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Kon’s carefully-manicured face lights up the tv screen, a bright smile settled perfectly on his lips. The camera pans to the interviewer, a woman in her late-thirties to early forties with reddish-brown hair, who’s holding a notebook with a bright pink pen. She smiles, shifting her position for a moment before introducing her guest.
“Today I have the wonderful chance to ask Hollywood's beloved Connor Kent some questions,” she said the word ‘beloved’ in a teasing manner, drawing out a small, but amused, laugh from Connor. She continues, “While I know most people here probably already know who he is, if you're new to the game, he starred in several hit shows and movies, rising in fame rather quickly for only being in the game for a handful of years as of now, but his talent certainly has proven that he earned his spot.” Connor blushes slightly.
“You flatter me,” he says. The interviewer smiles.
“You deserve all the good words that are said to you,” she says, rather sincerely. She taps her pen on her notebook once as she changes the subject. “Now, enough with the introductions, let’s get into the questions that everyone seems to be asking.” Connor nods, as if telling the interviewer to continue. “You’ve been on a hiatus for a couple weeks, as we’re all aware. How did you spend your much deserved time off?” Connor seems to think about this for a moment.
“It’s really just been a whole lot of laying around and rewatching reruns of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker with my loved ones. I was not very productive during these past few weeks.” Connor seems embarrassed at the admittance of his laziness. The interviewer just laughs.
“Well, with how hard you’ve been working these past few weeks, I’m sure this lull in activity was much deserved. Although, I will say I am quite intrigued by the term you used, ‘loved ones’? Has the infamously hurt Connor Kent finally found himself a new lover?” She asks lightheartedly, but there’s a twinge of something deeper in her eyes, as if she’s trying to find the answers in his body language. Connor shifts around nervously, bringing his hands together to fidget.
“Not quite,” Connor says awkwardly. The interviewer cocks her head to the side slightly, asking the silent question. “I haven’t found myself a lover,” he emphasizes the ‘a’, “But rather, I’ve found myself quite lucky with my two lovers.” Connor’s expression is filled with anxiety, worries of how the public is going to react about this flooding his mind. The interviewer’s eyes widen, a look of disbelief crossing her features for a fleeting moment.
“Well, it seems you have found yourself to be quite lucky. It’s rare to have any sort of representation of polyamorous relationships in today’s world. It must’ve been hard to decide to come out with it.” She asks an unspoken question. He nods.
“I will say, I am a bit more than a little worried of how people are going to react to this, but we’ve talked extensively about it throughout my hiatus, and we decided it would be best to tell everyone before a cheating scandal were to occur.” Connor huffs out a somewhat-bitter laugh.
“Are your partners in the public eye often?” She probes a bit deeper. Connor nods.
“Yeah. One of them is. The other isn’t, but they’ve been seen together and photographed multiple times, and I know how the media loves any sort of drama so, while we decided to try and keep our relationship, for the most part, out of the public eye, we’ll still address it before everyone tries to find the worst in us. Tim, the one who tends to find himself circulating through the media more often than not, has worked to try and keep our third as much of a secret as possible, given our line of work, so that we can have some semblance of privacy in our lives as well as our third not having to be chased by paparazzi every time they leave the house. We will ask that people respect our decision and, if you see us out in public and manage to get a photo of us, please either cease to post it or at least cover our third’s face. We understand that only so much can be done about this, and their face will most likely get out at some point, but we’d rather it not be plastered everywhere.
“Tim will be addressing this at a press conference soon after this interview is posted, and we’d like everyone to respect our wishes.” Connor finishes off confidently, rehearsed words flowing out of his mouth. The interviewer nods approvingly.
“Thank you for sharing this important news with me, and letting me write the first article,” she grins in faux-mischievousness, “but I fear that is all we have time for today! Thank you for joining me and answering my questions, and I hope we’ll meet again.” Her voice has a hint of finality in it as she slams her notebook shut.
“Thank you for making this interview one of the more enjoyable ones I’ve had.” Connor retorts, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his trousers. The interviewer stands up as well, shaking Connor’s hand politely as the tape ends. Connor gives the interviewer one last farewell before walking off set, flopping into the driver’s seat of his car once he finally reaches the parking lot. He lets out a weary sigh as he practically melts into the leather seats, letting his exhaustion overtake him. He hates interviews so much, but it was a part of the job. He knows that this specific interview is going to make its way around every corner of the internet, especially with how large his fandom is.
Connor straightens out his posture and turns his key in slot, lighting the ignition and starting the car, before driving through the familiar city to his home.
~~~
Bernard flops onto the bed with a loud groan, kicking his feet as he glances at Tim, who merely looks up from his laptop with an amused chuckle for not even 5 seconds. Bernard pouts, letting out a broken whine in an attempt to fully grasp Tim’s attention. Tim sighs exasperatedly, but closes his laptop and places it on the bedside table nonetheless, opening his arms for Bernard to climb into.
Bernard nuzzles into the juncture between Tim’s shoulder and neck, deflating with a sigh.
“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?” Tim asks with faux annoyance. Bernard lifts his head to look Tim in the eye.
“I miss Kon.” Bernard huffs in a decidedly adorable manner, if you ask Tim. Said man raises an eyebrow.
“It’s been like, barely a week.” Tim informs oh-so-helpfully. Bernard’s pout turns to a glare.
“And that’s a week too long,” he decides. “We still have, what, two months until he can come visit again? This is gonna be awful.” Tim hums thoughtfully.
“Just think about it this way, the next time you see him not over a screen, you’ll be graduated and you, Kon, and I will get a whole two weeks to ourselves.” Tim lays out, causing Bernard to let out a big sigh.
“I guess,” he mumbles, enjoying the feeling of Tim’s chuckle against his skin.
“In the meantime, you can finally get through the playlist I know you have of him in interviews and shows.” Tim teases.
“You’re not supposed to know about that.” Bernard responds.
“I know everything, Bernard.” Tim says ominously.
“I know you do, stalker.”
“And you love me for it,” Tim replies with a sing-songy tone. Bernard huffs.
“You’re lucky I do.” Bernard readjusts himself, letting out a sigh and drifting off to dreamland before Tim can formulate a response.
~~~
Bernard trudges into the cafe, letting out a weary sigh as he haphazardly drops his bag in his assigned bin in the employee area. One of his coworkers raises an eyebrow at him, leaning against the doorframe as she awaits an explanation. Bernard tosses her a glare.
“What?” He asks sharply, with no actual heat present in his voice.
“What’s up with you today?” She pushes off the wall and sits down on the table beside Bernard, looking at him expectantly. Bernard lets out another sigh as he tries to formulate a response.
“It’s our six month anniversary, but my partner has work, so I can’t even spend time with them, not to mention the fact that I haven’t even seen ‘em in almost three months, and I’ve barely been able to talk to them because they’ve been so busy.” Bernard explains, trying to be as vague as possible while still being able to (hopefully) get her off his back (although, knowing how perceptive she is, Bernard knows his chances are very slim). Hazel hums thoughtfully.
“I didn’t realize you and your partner were long distance.” She narrows her eyes at him. Bernard shrugs stiffly.
“Yep–” Bernard pops the ‘p’ awkwardly– “work, y’know?” He laughs a bit strained, pointing towards the door where their boss was standing as he mutters something about needing to clock in.
Bernard gets assigned to pastry duty, of course, since that is his job, so he thankfully doesn’t have to run in to Hazel again, since she works at the counter. Bernard hums a bubbly tune as he lays out everything he needs in order to back, as well as propping his phone up against his water bottle in the middle of the giant island, the calming sound of Kon’s voice flowing through his headphones as he slowly gets through his playlist of edits, compilations, and interviews that never seems to end.
(Probably because Bernard keeps adding to it. And Tim. Possibly. Bernard has a sneaking suspicion that Tim has added the occasional youtube video to the playlist, as there are some that Bernard has never seen before, but he doesn’t mind. It just means more for him)
Regardless, Bernard gets his work done in record time, huffing out the occasional laugh at a blooper or a cringy line that Connor said or did, paying no attention to the going-on’s of anything around him. Which means that he doesn’t notice Hazel’s analytical eyes following his every move for far longer than he’d like to admit. That also means that he nearly jumps when he turns around to see her standing there with a suspicious look in her eyes.
“Hi,” Bernard says rather dumbly, although he blames it on the fact that he was startled. Hazel doesn’t respond. Instead, she invites herself in to Bernard’s workspace (not that he minds, or that it’s not really his, but she doesn’t need to know that).
“You’ve been acting weird lately. Like, for several months now. You take a week off because you’re apparently ‘sick’, and suddenly you come back obsessed with one singular actor, with no preface or warning. I didn’t even know you knew this guy’s name before then.” She gestures loosely to Bernard’s phone, clips of Connor still rolling by.
“I watched one of his shows over that break and I really enjoyed it. What's wrong with enjoying a show? And, for the record, I was sick. I don’t know why you can’t seem to believe that,” Bernard shoots back, a twinge in his tone that made it sound as if he was offended by her accusation, which he wasn’t, because she was pretty spot on, but again, she didn’t need to know that. He has appearances to keep up with.
“It’s because you came back, totally fine. You had no stuffy nose, no swollen eyes, not even a sore throat! If a sickness takes you out for that long, there’s bound to be some lasting effects. And it isn’t that you enjoy the show, it’s the fact that this has long since surpassed mere ‘enjoyment’ of something, it’s like you can’t go more than a day without watching something of his.” Hazel pauses her dramatic ranting, suddenly standing fully upright. A look of realization dawns on her face as she looks at Bernard with eyes so narrowed that they were practically closed with so much scrutiny that Bernard didn’t even know was possible. She relaxes her posture a little bit as a small, proud smile floats on her lips.
“You’re dating him.” She states confidently, smirking as Bernard splutters.
“Pardon? How on earth did you get to that conclusion?” Bernard asks, utterly baffled.
“No, no, no, it makes total sense! We all knew you were dating someone long before you started working here, which made me very suspicious because it has been far longer than six months, but regardless, you were already in a relationship when you started working here and, while you never explicitly said who he was, you mentioned a ‘Tim’ a few times, plus we know from your offhanded comments that he’s rich, and your supposed ‘favorite actor’ got in a relationship with one Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises; and a mysterious third person, who was left unnamed due to privacy reasons, get this, six months ago.” Hazel looks far too proud to have cracked this case, snickering when Bernard bangs his head against the counter, looking at it with disgust when he feels the wet rag on his forehead, lying miserably from where it had been abandoned while Bernard’s cleaning was oh-so-rudely disrupted.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Bernard sounds exhausted, eyes pleading as he nearly begs Hazel. Said girl snorts as she prances around the kitchen as if she owns the place, snatching a cookie off of the tray that Bernard had just set up.
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t gotta worry about your identity getting out any time soon. You can save your soggy wet cat routine.” Bernard gasps offendedly at that.
“I resent that. I am not a soggy wet cat.” He replies indignantly. Hazel just responds by looking him up and down, raising an eyebrow at him as if to say ‘really?’, before walking confidently out of the kitchen and back into the serving area, where her break has, presumably, ended, leaving Bernard there, stunned.
~~~
“Oh my god, are you Connor Kent?” One girl asks as her and another runs up to the trio. Connor laughs.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Connor jokes, Tim scoffing good-naturedly.
“Dang it, I wanted to be the first one recognized,” Tim shakes his head jokingly. Bernard mutters a small ‘oh lord’ when Kon sticks his tongue out at Tim.
“I guess I’m just that much better than you,” Kon beams. Tim makes a faux-scandalized look as he puts his hand over his heart like all those rich people at galas. Kon just shrugs as he tries (and fails) to hold in his laughter.
“Are these your boyfriends? Oh my gosh, you’re so cute together! Can I get a picture with y’all?” The first girl asks, her words rushed and almost melded together in a way that reminds Kon of Bart when they were younger (and Bart was always high off sugar). Kon glances at Bernard, who smiles and gives a small nod, before turning back to the girls and nodding.
“Sure,” Connor says as the first girl hands her phone off to the second to take the picture (after the second one glared at the first when she asked if the second wanted to be in the photo). Kon and Tim both wrap an arm around Bernard while the girl stands in front of them, crouching a little and smiling brightly. The girl jumps up the second her friend lowers the phone, taking it out of their hand and squealing when she sees the photo.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” She drags out the last word before sobering slightly. “And I promise I’ll cover your third’s face before posting it, don’t worry.” She nods seriously before smiling again. “Have a lovely day!” She throws over her shoulder as she runs off with her friend. Tim turns to Kon with a pout heavy of his lips.
“I really thought I was gonna be the first to get recognized,” Tim’s pout turns to a frown when Kon chuckles.
“Maybe if we were in Gotham, that would be realistic, but we’re in Metropolis, so…” Kon trails off. Tim huffs and lightly punches his shoulder, muttering ‘bully’ under his breath before Bernard drags them off to their original destination.
~~~
Kon's jaw nearly drops when Bernard exits the bathroom, freshly-dyed-black hair catching the final rays of the day's sun, maroon mask hanging off one ear matching perfectly with the tie dangling from his neck. Tim saddles up beside Bernard, nuzzling into the other's neck. Bernard hums contently, melting into Tim's hold. He briefly opens his eyes to give Kon a lazy smile, the ladder of which glides over to Bernard to give him a chaste kiss. Bernard lets out a happy sound, basking in the feeling of his two boyfriends’ heat. Kon allows the moment to marinate for a minute or so before speaking up.
“We should probably get going soon,” Kon mumbles, Bernard letting out a whine.
“Or we could just stay home,” Bernard tries. Kon chuckles.
“You drive a hard bargain, but I’m gonna have to decline. I need to show up to my own movie’s premiere."
“Boo,” Bernard makes a face with his unenthused words before finally detaching from Tim’s octopus grip, the latter stumbling from the lack of support.
“What time does it start?” Tim asks once he regains coherency.
“At seven, so we really need to get going within the next ten minutes if we want to arrive on time.” Kon stresses slightly.
“And by on time, you mean thirty minutes early?” Tim raises an eyebrow.
“Of course, what else would I mean,” Kon teases. Tim nods, unimpressed, and walks over to the door to slip on his shoes, Bernard and Kon following close behind before heading down to the front of the apartment where the limo is waiting.
Kon greets the limo driver with a smile, thanking him for driving the trio to the event. Kon holds the door open for Tim and Bernard (like the gentleman he is, Ma taught him well), letting them slide in before him. Kon stays silent until he hears the telltale rumble of the car signaling that they’ve started moving.
“I like you with blonde hair better,” Kon nods solemnly, words light. Bernard nods with Kon.
“As do I, I could never pull off black hair. Thank god this is only temporary.” Bernard lets out a sigh. Tim pauses what he’s doing on his phone.
“You realize it’s still going to stick in your hair, right? Especially with your shade of blond, it’ll take a few washes to fully get out. And you’ll have to dye it every time we go to an event, so we can keep your privacy.” Tim states, amusement tracing a small smile on his lips when he hears Bernard’s groan.
“Don’t remind me. I might as well get a wig at this point.” Tim nods thoughtfully.
“I can look into that, if you’d like,” he offers. Bernard straightens slightly, contemplating that idea.
“I might actually have you do that; I really don’t wanna damage my hair…” Bernard trails off, eyes growing the smallest bit distant. Tim smiles.
“Of course,” his words bring Bernard back to the present, just in time for them to pull up to the venue. Kon reaches over to Bernard, resting his hand on the other’s cheek for a moment too long, corners of his mouth lifting just slightly as he brings the cloth strap of the mask across Bernard’s face, adjusting it until it fits nice and snug around Bernard’s soft features. Kon leans in a bit closer to whisper,
“If you get too overwhelmed, come and get me and I’ll take you to somewhere quiet, okay?” Kon’s voice is soft, gentle, and his eyes display his emotions so vividly, worry mixed with fondness swirling around each other as they meet Bernard’s eyes. Bernard nods and nuzzles his nose into Kon’s cheek, a show of affection to replace the smile that’s under his mask, one that Kon can’t see. Kon leans back into his seat and prepares himself for the avalanche of different sounds and sights that are sure to give Kon sensory overload before opening the car door, throwing himself to the wolves.
As soon as Kon exits the car, he’s assaulted by the flash of dozens of cameras and the sound of god-knows-how-many reporters asking questions too fast to understand. Kon takes a deep breath and equips a light smile, waving to the cameras and doing different poses as he feels Bernard and Tim exit the car behind him, the sounds of reporters getting louder as they realize who Kon brought with him.
Kon and Tim lead Bernard down the strip of red carpet, throwing around a few poses but noticeably a bit rushed to get Bernard into the venue, only spending a few minutes outside where they’d normally spend ten to twenty minutes.
The sounds of the party are miniscule compared to outside, Kon finally being able to take a deep breath and actually calm his heart rate down, something he was unable to do prior. It seems the other two feel the same way, a bit of the tension in their shoulders sliding off. Kon leads the two through the venue that he’s only ever been to once or twice, pointing out the bathrooms as he tries to remember where they’re located.
Tim’s gala training immediately comes out, the polite smile resting on his face not wavering once throughout the entire night. It becomes glaringly apparent that he’s been to events like this often, and people start to swarm him. He becomes the talk of the event after someone recognizes his name, everyone wondering why the infamously elusive Timothy Drake-Wayne is at a movie premiere, much to Kon and Bernard’s amusement.
About halfway through the night, Kon and Bernard break off from Tim to take a walk around the garden for some air.
“How are you feeling?” Kon asks softly. Bernard takes a breath and nods slowly.
“It’s…a lot.” Kon huffs out a laugh at that.
“Yeah,” he admits, “events like this drain my social battery like, instantly.”
“I fear I won’t be able to see anyone for the next three to five business days after this,” Bernard jokes, causing a smile to bloom on Kon’s face.
“I’m just glad I finished filming so I can spend more time with you and Tim, even if I still have a lot of promo to do.” Kon says quietly, blushing faintly when Bernard grabs his hand and starts swinging them back and forth as they walk.
“Well, no matter how busy you get with promotions, we’ll always be there with you.” Bernard states confidently. Kon gives Bernard a wonky smile, one laced with confusion.
“You do realize that I travel for promotions, right?” Kon asks carefully. Bernard stops walking, turning his head to Kon and stating with a deadpan tone,
“Connor. Both of my boyfriends are rich. I don’t need a job.” That makes Kon laugh out loud, the slight crinkle in the corners of Bernard’s eyes giving away his own smile.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re planning on quitting college?” Kon asks teasingly, continuing their walk. Bernard lets go of Kon’s hand just long enough to wave him off before grabbing his hand once more.
“The only college I have left is my pastry course, and I can do that whenever,” he claims nonchalantly. Kon’s smile widens, a warm feeling exploding in his chest at the thought of having his boyfriends nearby wherever he goes.
The two head back into the venue after a few more (selfish) minutes walking through the garden, basking in each other’s presence, recharging after a taxing nearly nine months apart. The moment they walk through the door, they immediately notice something is wrong. The air is still, the loud chatter having quieted down to the occasional whisper, one familiar voice echoing clearly through the venue. Connor instinctively reaches out to grab Bernard’s hand, subtly pushing Bernard behind his back protectively, before poshing through the crowd to find the source of that familiar voice.
His breath is nearly stolen straight from his chest as he sees who Tim is talking to. Someone who Kon himself hasn’t talked to in years, and even longer if they were talking about willingly. Tim turns to greet Kon and Bernard, eyes lighting up in a way that can only be genuine, as he waves them over with stiff, uncomfortable movements.
“You’ve met my boyfriends, right? Connor and Bee?” Tim asks the man, a dangerous look dancing in his eyes. The man smiles, a malicious, vile thing, as he nods.
“Oh course I know Connor. Did he not tell you? After all, he is a Luthor,” Lex lets out a polite laugh, and Connor feels like he’s being transported back to when he was ten years old, that same fake smile adorning the man who only ever called him over to show him off like he was a trophy. If he was any trophy, Kon thought to himself, he’d be a participation trophy.
~~~
Connor scans the room, placing names to faces and internally logging who’s in attendance, hands in his pockets and back against the wall in the far left corner. He scoffs when he sees Lex try and kiss up to Bruce Wayne in an attempt to get Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp to partner. Connor has seen him do this for years, and Bruce has always refused. He doesn’t know why Lex is still trying when it obviously isn’t going to work, but he digresses. He isn’t going to say anything, knowing that anything he says is going to set off one of his father’s ‘tantrums’.
He also notes that the Drake’s are in attendance, as well as the Dowd’s. It seems that the annual Wayne Charity Gala is one of the rare occasions where the Dowd’s come out of their isolation and the Drake’s return from their travels. Connor knows that both of those families have children, as well as several other guests, and Connor can even spot them from his halfway-hidden spot, near the children’s snack table, but he strives to remain as invisible as he can, so he refrains from greeting them. It’s not like he even wants to be there, but if Lex dragged him to yet another gala, Connor is going to act as sour as he can. He will not have fun, he decides. He must have an awful time so that Lex won’t think that Connor is okay attending more galas.
Lex catches his eyes from his spot across the room, beckoning him over with a small nod. Connor groans but kicks off the wall and starts making his way over anyways. He knows what he has to do, it’s the same thing he always does at these events. He must ask like the perfect son for Lex to show off.
“Oh, Connor, there you are! I was wondering where you’ve run off to,” Lex lets out a loud laugh as he ruffles Connor’s hair, much to the latter’s dismay.
“Ah, yes. My children have quite the habit of running off during these. It’s a miracle they’re still in the room.” Dick Grayson and Jason Todd-Wayne, Connor notes. Two of the most famous orphans on the east coast, second and third only to the man in front of him, Bruce Wayne.
The fond chuckle that the aforementioned man lets out at the end of his sentence surprises Connor, though. It sounds genuine, not like Lex’s strained laughs that he has when talking about Connor, his way of warning Connor to quit it. Connor smiles anyways, pretending that he isn’t jealous of Dick and Jason.
“Speaking of them, Connor, why don’t you join all the other kids instead of brooding in your corner?” There’s an edge to Lex’s voice that tells Connor that his words aren’t a question, or even a request, but a demand. Connor pretends that he doesn’t hear it.
“I’m okay, thanks.” Connor declines monotonously. Bruce laughs at that, and Lex soon follows with his own, albeit strained, laugh.
“Are you sure? They have snacks,” Lex tries to bribe, but Connor doesn’t think anything in the world could get him to sit in a corner with a bunch of loud, messy children. Nevermind that he himself is just a measly ten years old, he believes himself to be far more distinguished than the other kids there. Connor looks up at Lex with a faux-innocent smile, batting his eyelashes in a way that Lex definitely understands as a ‘no’, Lex’s smile falling.
“I’m okay, thank you!” Connor says cheerfully before skipping back to his corner, ignoring the sound of Lex’s voice telling him to come back. Connor knows that Lex won’t do anything, at least, not until they get home. He wouldn’t do that to his reputation, so he still has at least two hours until he’s grounded, and he sure as hell is going to take advantage of it.
~~~
Connor would have laughed at how red his dad was, if not for the fact that he knew it would make the situation far worse than it already was.
“Seriously, Mr. Luthor, it was all us,” He gestures to himself and Jason, ”we dragged Connor into it, I promise it wasn’t his fault.” Dick nearly begs the older man, trying to get in between Lex and Connor. The former completely disregards Dick’s words and pushes him aside, taking Connor’s shoulder in his hand rather roughly.
“Nonsense, Connor knows better than to cause a scene. I am very disappointed that I couldn’t trust him to behave today.” Lex looks at Connor with ‘The Look’, the one that Connor knows means business. “It seems that we have to cut the evening off a bit early, though. We don’t want Connor to be up late on a school night!” Lex claims before dragging Connor away from the pair without waiting for a response. They knew that Lex was lying, seeing as tomorrow was Saturday and Connor hasn’t been in school in years.
The silence stretches on until they’re already in the car and halfway back to the Luthor Penthouse that they’re staying in for the night.
“What was that?” Lex demands.
“I was bored.” Connor shrugs. Lex scoffs.
“So, what, you decided to rope the Wayne Children–” Lex emphasizes the last name “–into your schemes?”
“They were willing participants. I merely suggested that we slide down the stairs on a mattress, they were the ones that actually pulled it off.” Connor informs. Lex purses his lips in warning.
“This is not the Princess Diaries, Connor, it is not acceptable for the Luthor Heir to be pulling such ridiculous stunts,” Lex’s voice is raised in a way that Connor knows means it won’t be long before it escalates to yelling. Connor stays silent, mentally scoffing at the mention of his favorite movie. Connor had wanted to do that far before he saw the movie.
Lex takes a deep breath, much to Connor’s surprise, and finally speaks in a lower, calmer tone of voice, although his frustration is clearly evident in his words.
“I have arrangements for you to move to Hawaii with Mercy. I expect you to behave yourself. You are leaving tomorrow morning.”
“What?” Connor nearly screams. “So, what, you got tired of me so now you’re shipping me off to some island halfway across the country?” Lex doesn’t say anything, but rather just nods sternly. Connor scoffs and shakes his head. “That’s rich, even for you,” Connor mutters, turning to face out the window and zones out for the remainder of the drive.
~~~
Connor stares at his computer screen, a Daily Planet article on pollution within the water pipes. Connor doesn’t care about that, no, but rather, the person who wrote it. ‘Clark Kent’, says the byline. That’s his father, Connor thinks. It took three years, but he found it. He was starting to lose hope, but then he found an old high school newspaper from over a decade ago where Lex’s name came up repeatedly, occasionally paired with another one. Clark. Clark Kent.
Connor knew vaguely of his father’s time in a small Kansas town, but it wasn’t something that Lex often spoke of, and there’s barely any information about him during that six year period of time. A time that ended nearly immediately after Connor was born. Lioniol sent Lex there to work at their plant as a punishment, a way to get him to learn responsibility, for what was supposed to be a year. A year that extended into six.
This led Connor to try and find out anything that happened during that time, but it came up with nothing, so instead, he started digging into the mysterious Clark Kent.
Clark Kent is a 6’5 Kansas farmboy who was adopted by Jonathan and Martha Kent when he was a baby, who never played any sports except for a two month period of time where he was a fill-in for his high school football team, who spent all of his time either writing for the newspaper or helping his friends out at their local movie-theatre-turned-coffeshop, the Talon. He graduated from Metropolis University with a degree in journalism and almost immediately got hired by the Daily Planet, where he worked alongside his best friend, Chloe, and her cousin, Lois. A cousin that is now married to Clark with a four-year-old son.
Thirteen years ago, Clark and Lex, who were best friends, had a public falling out that resulted in Clark declaring Lex as a fraud; a sociopathic, spoiled brat; and declaring Lex as his mortal enemy, which, is Connor’s opinion, is a little dramatic, but they were 19 and also, Connor understands how awful Lex is.
To this day, the two have never had contact beyond Clark writing brutal articles on how LexCorp treats their employees like dirt on the bottoms of their shoes, their secret projects that are morally wrong, their illegal practices, and anything else that could taint Lex’s reputation. Connor did find one video from seven years ago that merely consists of Clark yelling at Lex before throwing his notebook at him and stomping away angrily, but that was it.
That was his other genetic donor, Connor thinks, and he has to find him.
~~~
Connor knocks on the wooden door with faded gold paint that forms the number ‘621’, nerves shooting through his body as he rocks on the soles of his feet, awaiting an answer. The door swings open not even a minute after Connor knocks, a brunette woman standing on the other side, her annoyed expression melting into one of concern.
“May I help you? Where are your parents?” She asks, tone filled with confusion and worry. Connor straightens his posture and puts on what is hopefully a determined look and smiles.
“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about. Is Clark Kent here?” He asks with his tone of voice that’s typically reserved for galas. The woman hesitates before nodding, stepping aside to allow Connor into the apartment.
It looks homey, and it’s definitely lived in, with toys and water glasses scattered around, but it’s surprisingly clean for an apartment that houses a toddler. Would a four-year-old be considered a toddler? Connor doesn’t know, so he shoves that thought aside. Connor turns around to look at the woman expectantly.
“Of course, where are my manners? I’m Lois Lane, what’s your name?” She asks.
“You didn’t take his last name.” Connor observes. Lois freezes for a moment before her warm smile returns.
“Yes. I kept my own last name, since I started writing with it and it’s far more well known than Lois Kent would be. It’s a common practice for journalists.” She responds. Connor lets out a hum of acknowledgement.
“I’m Connor Luthor,” He answers her second question distractedly, eyes scanning every inch of the apartment that’s in his view, looking for Clark. As if someone of his size can hide behind a couch. Connor huffs out a laugh at the absurdity of that thought. He’s brought back to the present by the sound of little feet hitting the floor, barely having a moment to prepare before the small four-year-old is launching himself into Connor’s arms, nearly falling when Connor doesn’t catch him fast enough, but the little guy hoists himself up, waiting for Connor to return his hug. Connor bluescreens, not managing to do anything else other than holding the kid up.
“Uh…” Connor stares at the kid, who’s nuzzling contently into Connor’s shirts. The man of the hour finally bursts through the furthest door in the hallways adjacent to the room where the other three are, nearly tripping over his feet as he rushes out apologies.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, we’re still trying to teach him stranger danger, I am sorry,” Clark’s face is bright red with embarrassment. He finally focuses on Connor, faintly registering that there was, in fact, a Luthor in their apartment, holding his son. Clark stands to his full height, reaching over to detangle Jon’s limbs from Connor’s frame and attach them to his own, ignoring Jon’s complaints about being disrupted when he was so comfy.
“Hi.” Connor finally gets out, a hint of awe in his voice. Clark’s eyes jump to Lois for a moment before focusing back on Connor, letting a wriggling Jon out of his grasp without breaking eye contact.
“What are you doing here?” Clark asks, rather impolitely. Ma would scold him if she were here, but Clark hasn’t willingly interacted with a Luthor in more than a few years, even if this Luthor is just a child.
“To tell you that I’m your son.” Connor states, and Clark is grateful that he let Jon down because, if he hadn’t, he definitely would’ve dropped him.
“...Pardon?” Clark responds, thinking he must have misheard the kid.
“You’re my father. At least, I think so? I’m like, 99% sure that you are. If you aren’t, I’ll eat my sock, ‘cause all the clues point to you. You and Lex had a falling out mere days after I was born, which, you not realizing that you’re my other genetic donor definitely changes things…” Connor trails off before regaining his train of thought. “Regardless, all signs point to yes, you are my father. You can get a DNA test if you need?” Connor hesitantly offers. Clark takes a deep breath, not responding to Connor’s words quite yet. Lois takes that as her cue to speak up.
“I mean, it makes sense. The timeline matches up perfectly and he does look a lot like you,” Lois’ words are nervous, something that her words rarely are. Clark looks at her with a look of incredulousness. Lois shrugs, as if to say ‘what, it’s true?!’. Clark turns his gaze back to Connor.
“I have to go.” Clark states, sliding on his shoes and leaving the apartment. Lois looks at Connor with pity.
“I’m sorry, he just…needs time to process this.” Lois purses her lips, opening her mouth as if she’s going to say something else, but decides against it. Connor nods.
“I understand. I must get going as well, my plane leaves in an hour.” Connor hangs his head in a greeting-slash-farewell-slash-bow-like-movement before walking towards the door that Clark walked out of just moments prior.
“Plane? Do you not live with Lex here in Metropolis?” Lois asks. Connor turns back and shakes his head.
“No, I live in Hawaii with his most trusted bodyguard.” He tries to say that in a proud manner, but it comes out rather pathetically. Lois’ eyes widen.
“Oh.” Is all she says in response.
“Yeah.” Connor waits a few seconds before finally going out the door, leaving Lois with more questions than answers and a kid who’s curious about his new brother.
~~~
(Connor flops onto the couch the second he gets back to his penthouse in Hawaii, because apparently Lex only likes penthouses, and lets out a weary sigh.
“That was awful.” He says aloud, following the sentence with a loud groan. That trip was rather anticlimactic, he thinks. His life isn’t going to change, and he doesn’t know why he ever thought it would.)
~~~
Connor stays far away from the media for several months after his small little escapade. Not that he’s usually close to the media. He never knows what’s going on outside of the local newspapers, as Lex doesn’t let him have any sort of news apps on his phone, and it’s not like he has any friends to tell him about the ongoings of the world around him.
That’s why he’s absolutely baffled when Clark Kent shows up with a CPS worker.
“Hello?” Connor asks, words riddled with confusion.
“I’m here to take you home.” Clark tells him, rather unenthusiastically. Connor nods and lets the two into his home, barely listening to a word they’re saying. Something about custody and neglectful tendencies, Connor doesn’t know, but he does what they ask and before he knows it, he’s standing in the middle of a Kansas farmhouse with his grandparents in front of him, telling him to call them Ma and Pa and gushing over how adorable he is. Normally, Connor would resent being called anything along the lines of ‘cute’, but with them, it feels warm, so he allows it.
Clark is saying something about how he hasn’t said a word since Clark arrived in Hawaii, mentioning it might be a response to the shock. Apparently, the CPS worker said it was fairly common in children who transferred parents or guardians, and that it should wear off soon. Ma and Pa say that they can love Connor no matter how few words he uses. That makes Connor feel warm, something that he’s never felt before today, but that warmth fizzles out when Clark bends down to Connor’s level and tells him that he has to go back to Metropolis to tie up a few loose ends and help Jon and Lois pack. He said that he’ll only be gone a week, at most two, but Connor doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling that it’s going to be far more than two weeks before he sees Clark again.
Unfortunately, he was right about that, and Clark, Lois, and Jon never move to Smallville, like they said they would, and Kon is left there, the feeling of abandonment growing as the months fly by.
Ma and Pa don’t outright say they’re mad, not that Connor thinks they have it within themselves to be angry, but they often remark that they’re disappointed in how Clark is lacking in regards to Connor. At one point, they offhandedly mention how they’re the reason Connor got put in Clark’s custody, and how they thought that he was Clark’s responsibility to take care of, not expecting him to merely drop Connor off in Smallville and pretend that he doesn’t need to do anything else.
Connor wants to be mad, he really does, because they’re the reason that he moved and his entire life got uprooted; because they instilled that hope in Connor that he might be worthy of Clark’s love and attention, just to be abandoned, like he always is. But he can’t. He can’t find it within himself to be angry at them, because they want the best for him, and they’re trying to make it better, and they don’t deserve his anger.
Eventually, Clark does come around (mostly because Ma and Pa’s disappointment is not something one wants to be on a receiving end of) and moves Connor back to Metropolis, into their apartment and enrolled in a nice high school.
Their relationship is still strained, because Clark has his hands full with Jon and neglects to give Connor any sort of attention outside of getting mad at his grades, but Connor doesn’t care, because, at least now he has Lois and Jon, of which he loves very much, and he’s made lots of friends at his new school, and he’s finally happy, even if Clark isn’t apart of that happiness. Connor is fine with that, or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. If he’s still hanging on to a shred of home that Clark will come around and finally act like a parent, that’s his own business, even if he knows that, in the end, he’s going to get hurt. And he did, but that’s what Lois’ comforting words and Jon’s warm hugs are for, and Connor realizes that his heart is full, and Clark isn’t a part of that, and it finally doesn’t hurt anymore.