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Kon stared down at his hands, they didn't look any different then they had five minutes prior, but his attention didn't divert. Kon was puzzled, and all over something Cassie had said. She hadn't meant anything by it, just something said in passing. “He still wears your colors,” she had noted with a sad, but sweet smile. And Kon was somehow suppose to know what that entailed.
Kon hadn't noticed before, not to say he hadn't noticed Tim's change in costume, that was pretty hard to miss, but he had only been faintly aware of the color scheme. Kon had just been thrilled to see Tim after such a long time of nothingness, even if the cowl frightened him a little (a lot). Kon was alive now, he was Superboy once more, and there was no need for Tim to keep up the red and black feature; he could have a new costume with any color he liked, but maybe that wasn't practical. Maybe, Kon was hoping for too much, looking into things that just weren't there. Kon snorted, what was he doing?
“Surprised to see you grounded.”
Kon nearly fell back, noting Tim's stealth had only improved. Kon was glad Tim couldn't see his face, but maybe not; Tim didn't appear to be in good spirits as of late, not that anyone could blame him for. And there Kon was, over thinking things again. When his brain had become such a complicated a place, Kon didn't know. Tim sat down beside him.
“Didn't really feel like flying around,” Kon vaguely said.
“Really?” Tim asked, perplexed.
“Yeah, really,” Kon said, and Tim shrugged.
“If I had the choice of flying or sitting down, I'd chose flying each and every time.”
Kon laughed. “Everyone says that, but you're the only one I believe.”
“Thanks, I think?” Tim said, feet dangling off the edge of the tower. Kon wondered if Tim would be so brave if he didn't have him there to catch him if, for some reason, he ever fell. Probably.
“So, what's up?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” Tim said, never missing a beat.
Kon bit the inside of his cheek, caught in between lying to his best friend, unforgivable, or telling his best friend the truth, unfavorable. Kon chose somewhere in the middle. “I've just been thinking. A lot,” he said, puckering his lips as though he could have done better.
“Thinking is...”
“Cassie told me you changed your colors for me.”
“I thought that was pretty obvious,” Tim said, not really understanding Kon's point.
“But, why? Red's not your favorite color, is it? I mean, I've been gone for a while, and it might be now. What if my costume was one big rainbow of spandex, Tim?”
“Then I would be in a rainbow themed costume, Conner. You were dead. I wanted to honor your memory.”
“But I'm not. I'm not dead, Tim,” Kon said, looking at Tim with a sense of desperation. Wouldn't anyone believe him? Bart said it would take sometime, but this was ripping him apart.
“I know you're alive,” Tim said, placing his hand on Kon's forearm, the feeling sending rivets of pure joy through Kon's spine. “I just, I want to keep them.”
Tim had removed his cowl, and Kon noted that it was the first time he had seen the other boys face in over a week. “I don't mind. Really. I just thought you should know we're going to have to share them now, is all,” he said, completely pathetic, but it earned him a Tim-like smile, so maybe not so much.
“I've grown to really like the red,” and that was Tim-speak for 'I missed you.'
“That much, huh?” Kon questioned, steering the conversation to his advantage. Tim might not have said it outright, but Kon more than got the message.
“More than you know,” he answered, looking forward over the horizon, sun slowly slipping away. Kon could feel the warmth fleeing from his very bones.
“No,” Kon said. “I mean, I wasn't here. I didn't have to watch anyone die, or bury them, Tim, but I didn't know whether anyone was alive, either. I came back, not really knowing what to think, but I just had to see you. I had to know that you were alive, seeing that you were okay helped to ease the fear I had coming back. I almost didn't recognize you, Rob, you've changed so much, the most out of anyone, but I knew who you were...like it was built in me to know,” he babbled on before he could be stopped.
Tim was looking at him again, his eyes studying, and Kon laid it all on the line by allowing the other boy to read him, not like he had much of a choice. If Tim wanted to know something bad enough, he would. Tim looked down, to the side, he looked anywhere that wasn't directed at him. The silence that came to rest between them was short lived, but agonizing, and Kon wondered as to whether or not his assumption was wrong. That Tim only continued to wear his colors out of respect for him, practicality, and nothing more.
Tim could read anyone, but no one could read him.
“I mean it,” Kon said, eyes peering guiltily at his lap.
“Kon...”
“I mean, if you...”
“I feel the same way,” Tim said, interrupting Kon before the other boy could continue on a tangent.
Kon nearly stuttered, just barely managing to hold himself together. “Are you serious?” he asked.
“No, Kon,” Tim said with a long, suffering sigh. “I'm not being serious. Not at all. Of course I'm being serious.”
Tim's hair whirled in front of his face, licked by the wind as the happiest grin to ever grace Kon's lips kept him from forming a coherent thought. Luckily, Tim had enough common sense for the both of them to reach over, grasp Kon's chin in his hand, lean forward, and kiss him. Kon's fingers clutched at Tim's costume, digging in. When the two separated, there was a hint of light Kon recognized in the blue of Tim's eyes he was afraid would never appear again. Kon brushed the hair away from Tim's face, intent on focusing on all of his features.
“You should come to Smallville with me. It sucks, and all, but you could come, and it wouldn't suck as much, and you wouldn't have to wear that weird cowl thing you have. If you want to, that is.”
“I'd...really like that,” Tim said, resting his head upon Kon's shoulder, content to watch the world move on without them. Kon pulled him closer to his body, chest tight for the first time, in a long time, with a good feeling. Tim made coming back easier, less painful, and as he made a mental note to check in on Bart, he also marked the days date deep within his mind.
Red and Black. The Clone and The Bird.