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A tornado flew around my room before you came.
Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn’t rain.
In Southern California, much like Arizona.
My eyes don’t shed tears, but, boy, they pour.
---
Tim Drake composes himself the best he can. The best is not enough, he knows but he’s trying.
He takes a deep, deep breath and opens the door.
Connor Kent- Kon, his supposed-to-be best friend stands there. With a huge smile and bright, gleaming eyes that make Tim weak because those eyes - those fucking eyes led him to believe what wasn’t real. Those umber eyes filled with warmth and softness that always looked at him like he had hung high the moon and the sun and the stars in the sky, like he was the ocean to Kon's ship, like he wasn’t the only one who was head over heels in love between the two of them, like there was actually something between them and fuck - Tim is already tearing up.
“Kon… I told you not to come over,” he finally says. His voice sounds incredibly lifeless but for the first time, he doesn’t give a damn.
“You like me… don't you? Cassie, she told me. I'm sorry,Timmy. ”
Tim trembles, something deep inside his body shakes so hard - hard enough that there’s immediate tears, hot and unrelenting, streaming down his cheeks and- and Kon’s standing right there but for the first time, he doesn’t give a damn.
Kon looks away and steps inside, letting himself in and Tim should object to it, really, because his apartment has become a mess but for the first time, he doesn’t give a damn.
When I’m thinkin’ ’bout you
I been thinkin’ ’bout you I been thinkin’ ’bout you
Do you think about me still?
Do you, do you?
---
Sometimes Tim wishes there was a way to switch off his brain. Except death and sleep.
He wishes there was some way to bury some of his thoughts deep inside without resorting to oblivion.
“I don’t blame you. I know we agreed on keeping it strictly just sex but there’s no way I’m saying that - uh you shouldn’t have or - um it’s your fault,” the other guy says and Tim has to control the urge to just scream at his brain to not twist and turn those words in a way that’ll make him feel worse.
Don’t treat Kon’s words like your goddamn criminal cases, he repeats in his head.
“And I know that your pain isn’t compared to anything that I feel right now but you’re still my best friend and I’m - just - I'm concerned? I know it would probably be the best if I stayed away from you but I don’t wanna…” Kon trails off and raises his head to meet Tim’s eyes. “I don’t wanna leave you alone or abandon you, I don’t - I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. I don't know the fuck I want, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here but I can see you're hurting and I just.. I can't not stay away. You and me. Superboy and Robin. Kon and Tim. Till the end, you know? And I fucking know my presence probably hurts… Tim, please ask me to leave right now because if you don’t, I don’t think so I will.”
Don’t treat Kon’s words like your goddamn criminal cases. Don’t treat Kon’s words like your goddamn criminal cases. Don’t treat Kon’s words like your goddamn criminal cases. Don’t treat Kon’s words like your godda-
A weak, tiny laugh escapes him.
“You shouldn't say things like that, Clone Boy. People might get the wrong idea.”
My heart counld get the wrong idea, he wants to say. But he doesn't. He knows Kon hears it either way.
Someone sighs. Could be either of them.
“I do care about you. I really fucking do.”
Just not in the way you want
The words aren’t uttered but it hangs heavily in the air and Tim feels as though his air passage has been cut off and he’s suffocating.
Don’t treat Kon’s words like your goddamn criminal cases.
His own voice sounds strange in his head.
And, he whispers in a weak voice, “I know, Kon, I know.”
Or do you not think so far ahead?
ʼCause I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout forever
Or do you not think so far ahead?
ʼCause I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout forever
---
Tim Drake had fallen for Connor Kent dangerously. Too quickly. Too deeply.
He had fallen and he didn't think about shattering. He had lain on the bed of roses and didn't think about the thorns. He had climbed on the clouds and didn't think about the thunderstorms.
He had gotten lost in love and didn't think about not being able to find himself.
And now he feels the shattering, the pricking, the thunderstorms in his mind and it's all too much for him to bear. So much that all he feels is a heavy numb weight on his chest and he can't breathe.
He can't find himself.
“Is it because of me? Am I not right for you?” Tim whispers, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
“Tim...”
He shakes his head and doesn't meet Kon's gaze knowing Kon is trying to get him to make eye contact.
“ No. Kon. Don't fucking 'Tim' me. I'm - I need something, some kind of.. reassurance. I don't even fucking know... I need some sort of... something- ugh,” he closes his eyes and there are fresh tears invading them already.
“I just need to understand why not me,” he sounds and feels pathetic and he knows he is being pathetic right now but there's the heavy numb weight on his chest and it's not going away no matter how many rational thoughts he throws at its way.
“Tim, you're my best friend, the best seriously and we fucked a couple of times, and really it was great,” Kon sighs and when he speaks again, his voice is lowered, softer - like cautiously letting down a child. “Sometimes it isn't meant to be that way. I can't see you that like that. I can't imagine us together. I'm sorry.”
And Tim knows this already. But that doesn't make it hurt less.
“It fucking hurts, Kon. It fucking hurts. Fuck YOU. It won't fucking stop hurting no matter what I do, no matter what you do, fuck. you.”
A second flies away.
Then,
“I'm sorry, Tim. You deserve better. "
And he fucking loses it, screaming his throat out at Kon which he certainly will regret later, he's cursing him, blaming him because it's his fault. It's Kon's fault for being so fucking stupidly good, nice and caring. Tim rains down horrible curses at Kon, spitting out unkind words like posion and admist his hysterical screaming, his body starts shaking slightly and his legs give away.
Kon crosses the space between them, catching him before he can hit the floor and instead of immediately scrambling away like Tim expects him to, he's hugging him tightly holding him as if Tim's this precious thing and somehow, it brings him comfort which is ironic. And pathetic.
There is a terrible strectch of silence. Tim breathes in Kon's fresh airy scent and shudders, a blend of want, love, resentment and every other feeling in between swirling internally.
Finally, he buries his head into Kon's shoulder deeper and whispers weakly, “I wish I could hate you.”
“I wish I could love you the way you need me to.”
Kon isn't being rude. He knows exactly what Tim needs and he's giving it to him. Tim's almost thankful.
He tightens his grip around Kon breaks into an another loud sob into his best friend's arms.
---