Superblond Bingo: Sunglasses
Rating: general.
Bernard knows Kon has to be Superboy, but he just can't see it. Feat: the hypno glasses from Superman 2025
Read it below or in the AO3 collection here :)
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Bernard is pretty sure he’s the only actual civilian in his friend group. When he’d reconnected with Tim he’d had no one but the Children of Dionysus, not a single old school friend who would even remember his name. Tim changed all of that. It had taken a few months, but once the cult had been dismantled and Bernard had recovered enough to leave the house –if only for short stretches of time– Tim had started introducing him to everyone he knows, or at least that’s how it felt.
First it was Stephanie and Cass, who are hilarious and fantastic for shopping with, then Dick, who makes even worse puns than he does, then Damian and Jason, who are great company. Once Bernard steers the conversation to the correct topics he can debate with them for hours and there’s nothing as satisfying as watching their faces go so red they’re almost purple. Tim seems to enjoy it too, keeping a tally of wins and losses.
And then it’s Tim’s friends, one by one. Tam is a force of nature who snarks at Tim with well-earned exasperation and Darcy is close to the top of his list of favourite people, but even her position has been toppled by the trio Tim brought him to meet last.
They’re definitely members of Young Justice. Like, not even slightly can Bernard convince himself that they’re not. He’s not stupid, he just pretends to be. In any case, he doesn’t need to be Batman to work out that the girl who looks more-or-less identical to Wonder Girl and has a penchant for wearing star motifs actually is Wonder Girl. Being introduced to her by Robin (not that Tim knows he’s aware of his vigilante identity) doesn’t exactly help with plausible deniability. Bart is a little less obvious, in that he has a costume that covers some part of his face, but he still isn’t subtle. Sometimes when Bernard’s back is turned he can feel the rush of displaced air or hear Bart’s voice speed up until it’s almost unintelligible. Tim and Cassie are always careful to distract him when that happens, and so Bernard can say sincerely that he’s never seen Bart use superspeed. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t know it’s happening but again, plausible deniability.
It’s Connor who confuses him. Looking at the lineup of Young Justice members makes it pretty clear who he should be, but Bernard can’t make it work in his mind. Unless he has some sort of shapeshifting ability he has to be Superboy: there’s no other option. But they just don’t match up. No matter how many times Bernard pulls up photos of Superboy he can’t make it fit.
Connor (who snorts when he calls him by his full name and says he prefers Kon) has muscles like a prized bull. He has black hair and tanned skin and a laugh that sends butterflies fluttering in Bernard’s stomach. He wears a black leather jacket and a single gold earring and these are all things he knows Kon has in common with Superboy but somehow he still can’t quite imagine it. After three weeks of going mildly insane, Bernard decided it has to be some sort of magic and started reinvestigating rumors that link Batman to an ancient coven of Gotham-based Vampires. He’s hasn’t gotten very far, but at least it keeps his mind off things, and it’s imperative that he does, because Kon invited him on their first date shortly after and Bernard can’t afford to spiral and fuck up the best relationship he’s had in his life.
Today the five of them are in a field in the middle of nowhere after an hour-long car ride that Bart had refused to join them for. His excuse had been that he’d get someone to drop him off, but Bernard would bet his entire savings that he’d just run there a few seconds before they arrived to set up. He doesn’t mind the white lie; Tim makes worse excuses all the time.
Their picnic blanket is arranged beneath the shade of an old tree, its canopy shading them from the worst of the midday sun. Kon leans against the trunk and Bernard lounges back against him, head pillowed by his thigh. Somewhere to his right Tim, Cassie and Bart are arguing about the order in which you should add toppings to scones (which has an obvious right answer, in his opinion) but Bernard can’t bring himself to pay attention. He’s in heaven, staring up at Kon’s face while his boyfriend plays with his hair.
He still can’t see Kon as Superboy. All the evidence says he is, and Bernard believes it with his whole heart, but he just can’t make the images align. He reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Kon's ear and marvels at the fact that he's allowed to get so close. Like obviously Bernard isn't a physical threat to him; even if he's wrong and Kon isn't Superboy, he's still buff enough to snap Bernard in half. Which is… a mental picture he now has in his mind. But it’s just nice to be trusted like this. He hopes what he’s about to do won’t shatter that.
Kon wears his glasses all the time; round sunglasses when outside and a chunky framed set of standard lenses when they’re inside. Despite that, Bernard has never seen him take them off to swap between them or even to clean away a smudge. He always ducks away, excusing himself to the bathroom or pointing out something to distract Bernard so he’s not looking in the right direction when he switches pairs. It niggles at his brain and brings up a theory he’d considered when they first met, one he is determined to test.
It could be shapeshifting. It could be. But Bernard is sure it isn’t. Shapeshifting wouldn’t give him a migraine when he tries to compare Kon and Superboy for too long. It wouldn’t leave his mind see-sawing between being certain they’re the same and certain they’re not. So he’s going to test it. He cups Kon’s cheek, revelling in the way he gazes down at him, and snatches the glasses from his face.
Kon’s face blurs, an array of tiny changes asserting themselves in an instant. It’s not that big of a difference, not really. Bernard’s pretty sure the effect they cause is more about not letting people make the connection than actually changing what they see. His ears are a smidge more pointed, jaw and cheeks a little more sharp. They’re still within the realm of human physiology: he might assume minor cosmetic surgery if they’d passed each other on the street, but more than likely he wouldn’t have looked twice. But Kon’s eyes are different.
Conner Kent has blue eyes the colour of the sky on a cloudless day. They’re vibrant and gorgeous and entirely human. Superboy’s –whatever his Kryptonian name is, if he even has one– are not. Superboy’s eyes are a colour he’s only seen in paints, in computer graphics, in the brightest birds and flowers in the world. They’re blue, but not like any other blue eyes he’s ever seen. They fluoresce under the sunlight, almost glowing with vibrant colour. Bernard drowns in them.
Long black lashes blink, obscuring his view, and Bernard comes back to reality with a jolt. He’s still laying on the picnic blanket, the glasses in his hand, and everyone is staring at him. Tim is on his feet, lunch discarded in the grass beside him. Cassie and Bart are frozen mid wrestling match, faces pale. Kon himself is completely still, face stricken. Bernard caresses his cheek with a wry smile.
“Thought so,” he says, and tucks the glasses into Kon’s shirt collar, adjusting his position just a smidge until he’s more comfortably positioned in Kon’s lap. “Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut. I worked Tim out in high school.”
An outraged squawk comes from beside him, too-fast chatter and surprised laughter joining the choir, but Bernard doesn’t bother looking for his friends' reactions. Kon’s face is an absolute picture; disbelieving joy replacing fear, and Bernard feels the sun rising in his heart. He closes his eyes with a content sigh, settling in happily. It’s nice to get an answer to a mystery.
