screaming at infinity

Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? Tim Drake || 19 || Red Robin

[redrobiiin-blog]

text : tim & kon

kon: nah, baby. it's okay.

kon: you're way better than batman, by the way. just keep the team afloat.

tim: i can do that much.

tim: be safe, please.

[redrobiiin-blog]

text : tim & kon

kon: okay, just let me know if that changes?

kon: it's...really frustrating. got half a dozen people with a billion superpowers out looking for one person, and we can't find her?

kon: it's not good, tim.

tim: i can keep the team here and come your way if you want.

tim: i'm not quite batman, but y'know.

[redrobiiin-blog]

text : tim & kon

kon: hey. is everything okay on your end?

kon: you guys are doing okay, right? i can come back if i need to, just say the word.

tim: we're fine, babe. i promise. all smooth sailing.

tim: how are things looking for you?

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

kon gets a sparky little feeling all up and down his spine when he feels the press of tim’s lips through his shirt.  it’s such a sweet gesture that kon feels like he’s going to just puddle at tim’s feet.  can tim feel the elated stutter of kon’s heart through his shirt ??  

kon’s attention?  to say that anything other than tim has his attention now would be a lie.  “ nothing that interesting, boy wonder.  was hoping you’d show up, anyway; thought maybe we could have dinner together tonight ?? ”

“we have dinner most nights.” which isn’t at all to say that tim doesn’t want to have dinner with kon, and he knows full well what kon means. but in the interests of true and complete honesty: tim drake is an asshole. but he’s also whipped, and so with another press of his lips to kon’s back, he slips around to his front. 

“kiss me?”

[redrobiiin-blog]

firstlantcrn:

@redrobiiin

ALAN is supposed to be retired him and jay had promised it to each other – a while ago. that doesn’t mean either of them keep that promise. he’s suited up and stopping a mugging when he hears a soft clink and looks up, “oh hey….” one of the batkids – which batkid – “red robin?” 

“green lantern.” which... y’know, isn’t a title tim thought he would be giving an old man for another few years (listen, hal jordan’s getting there but he’s not there yet, even by tim’s standards). but he seems plenty capable in spite of his age and that’s the important part, right? as long as he doesn’t break a hip?

[redrobiiin-blog]

@damnedsuper

slipping up behind him and wrapping his arms around kon’s waist, tim nuzzles into the line of his spine. “hey clone boy.” exhaustion settles over him in the warmth of his boyfriend’s company, and it takes damn near all his self restraint not to drag him back to whoever’s bedroom is closest (note: tim’s.) so that they can sleep. a kiss through the thin fabric of his shirt, just in between his spine and right shoulder blade. “what’s got your attention today?” 

[redrobiiin-blog]

@modecrasher

“dude.” can you slow down? it’s on the tip of his tongue, bart running circles--almost literally--around him. but it’s stupid, and borderline insensitive given the nature of... everything, so tim just keeps his mouth shut and makes a mental check to stop in the kitchen when he’s done reviewing the updates to the batmobile that luke sent his way that morning. “at least sit, or something.” 

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

not for the first time, kon’s struck by how much he hates tim’s cowl.  it makes him near impossible to read.  there’s something in tim’s voice that kon can’t place, but it doesn’t sound angry.  fear, but kon doesn’t recognize it.  he cocks his head at the question.  embarrassment cuts through his anger like a hot knife through butter.  the truth of the matter is, there’s no good reason for how angry kon is.  

    except, of course, that he’s angry because tim nearly got really, seriously hurt.  but that’s not something kon can just say.  it sounds ridiculous, and he knows he’ll get reprimanded for it.  for letting emotions cloud sound judgment.  for letting all the strings that connect him to tim get tangled.  and god, that’s the only way to explain the myriad of things kon is feeling.  tim: best friend, lover, leader – he’s important to kon in too many ways.  and when the lines between those ways blur, it’s messy.  

face burning in shame now, kon hangs his head and takes a few deep breaths.  “ it doesn’t matter, red. ”  another deep, shuddering breath, and kon releases the last of his hold on the men.  and almost faster than kon can watch, they scramble away.  all the anger and power leave kon in a rush so fast that he sags; it feels like coming down from a high.  like dragging yourself out of a blackout.  

kon stares at the scant distance between their fingers with so much fucking longing he can feel it in his stomach.  “ i didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that.  i’m – i fucked up. ”

moments like this, red robin can’t afford to spare an emotional response. he can’t afford to let the line between everything they are, everything they could be, blur. but tim? tim can’t bear to watch kon stew in his own self-loathing. there are a thousand and two ways he can handle this, between the two people he is, the two people he’s supposed to be. but it comes down to a small handful of plausible ones. brush it off. tell him to get up and they’ll deal with it later. follow up on some tests to check that everything really is okay in superboy’s head. 

his fingers close the small space, inch forward until he can feel the heat of kon through his gloves, and looks up at him for a moment. this is not how he’s supposed to handle this. “it’s... we’ll figure it out.” 

tim and red robin both are really, exceptionally bad at false niceties. but with such a heavy silence between them, he doesn’t know what else to say. even if it’s not true, it’s the nicer thing to say. the safer thing. much safer than the tug in his gut that says kisshimkisshimkisshim. like it’s that simple. like he’s not out of breath just thinking about it. 

“are you okay?”

[rpmemesyo]

Send 📱 to see how my muse has yours in their phone!

May include: contact picture, name, a sample of texts, anything the mun wishes to include!

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

well, when kon farmed the decision out to tim on this one, he didn’t think that he was farming it out to the crown prince of being a dumbass.  what’s he going to let them go for ??  it takes kon a second to focus, to see tim right in front of him.  oh.  huh.  he doesn’t let go of the energy yet, not so sure he likes the answer he’s getting.  it doesn’t make any fucking sense. 

“ you don’t wanna call the cops ?? ” kon demands.  he loosens his grip on the man’s throat a tad, makes sure he can breathe comfortably.  but he stays still, doesn’t move to follow the instruction, not yet anyway. 

why can’t kon just let go ??  why’s he staring at the proof that tim is unharmed, but still so goddamn angry ??

       one hand inches into the space between them, rests just short of where tim’s fingers are.  “ why ?? ” he demands, sounds a little angry at tim now, too.  he just wants a goddamn explanation, maybe.

of course tim wants to call the cops. of course he wants to handle this the way he’s been taught to. but the way kon is looking at him... like he’s a whole pile of stupid, and not with the tinge of amusement he usually gets, makes something deep inside him want to turn back and hide. or at least get kon to let go. 

kon’s fingers inch towards his and tim shuffles a little closer, knees closer to his hand without brushing his fingers against kon’s. this is all way too much and way too fast and there’s way too much anger in those eyes he usually knows. his throat tightens a little bit, makes thinking a little harder. 

“i’ll call the cops. they won’t get very far.” it’s still not the best answer, but how do you tell your best friend that he’s scaring you without making things worse? tim swallows hard again. digs his nails into the concrete to keep himself from spiraling. “why are you so angry?” 

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

@redrobiiin

“ get down – ” 

     when the command comes, it’s without any of superboy’s characteristic snark.  it’s not that – playful is a mask he has to slip on.  more days than not, it’s natural.  but it wasn’t always that way.  it’s not that it’s specifically tim ( except, it is ), kon’s protective of their team, of the handful of people he calls his friends.  and a stray bullet can actually kill some of them.  

kon reacts quicker than he realizes he even can, reaching an arm out and taking the bullet – just barely intercepts it with his forearm.  it’s going to leave a nasty fucking bruise, but it doesn’t pierce the skin.  

free hand grabs tim by the shoulder, pushes him down out of the line of fire.  it doesn’t matter that kon knows tim is highly trained, can probably fucking handle this better than even kon can, bulletproof skin notwithstanding.  the beating of kon’s heart is too hard, too loud.  the blood is rushing in his fucking ears, and he’s so goddamn furious he could bring this entire fucking city down around their ears.  there aren’t any uniforms; it’s just some nameless thug with a gun who got spooked.  their interference meant a drug deal gone south, and he fired.  

all in all, kon should be more gracious dealing with him, but –

      but he’s not.  he’s a blur of black and glowing red as he crosses the few feet, plants one hand on the man’s chest.  keen ears pick up the sound of back up coming, and kon hears those guns cock, too.  with one hand, he holds the first man down with enough force that it must make breathing difficult.  the other flies out to cast a red sort of haze around the two quickly approaching.  it would be easy as breathing to let tim take them out, because tim knows how to, and they work as a team, for christ’s sake.  

kon’s lip curls in a snarl, and with more exertion than it should take, kon disassembles the guns.  ( disassembles is a kind word.  explodes is more accurate. )  when they turn to run, kon lets the strange power wrap around them in ephemeral tendrils, anchoring them.  between the flare of rage and the bullet and the unnecessary burst of ttk, kon is breathing in heavy, angry pants while he tries to work through what he’s supposed to do with the three men.  

 “ – your call, ” he finally manages through the red haze of it all, turning his attention to tim for just a second.  there’s a question in there.  what do i do?  how much pain is too much?  help?  make a fucking call, please?  

it all happens really fast. too fast. as someone who can follow bart 95% of the time, tim’s definition of too fast is supersonic. infinite moments wrapped around each other gone in the blink of an eye. kon’s right next to him. right there, then he’s not. then he’s got someone by the shirt. by the chest. by the throat. then there’s guns making more noise than they should. red haze. and then finally-- finally--words. 

it takes him a second, a stunned blink of a second, to catch up. and even that’s too much. tim falters, takes a step forward, hand outstretched. they feel lumpy and useless and heavy. heavy as he catches onto just what’s happening, onto how gone kon is. and also isn’t. it’s a messy moment of contradictions. and tim is trying to keep himself going. keep himself anchored in the moments that are happening. 

“stop.” he’s careful and quiet, takes another stumbling step forward. his slow-moving feet catch on a loose stone. he trips forward, catches himself, keeps going. stopping just short of kon, he drops down to the same level. on his knees. hand on the ground between them. “let ‘em go.”

[legorobin-deactivated20170916]

Dick Grayson voice of reason™: bruce do you honestly think any of your kids are okay have you looked at the security footage of tims room he has been crying listening to africa by toto for the past 3 hours

[nights-cowl]

@redrobiiin

[redrobiiin-blog]

gothamsrxdhood:

“All right Timbers,” Jason smirks and twirls the bo staff in his hands before tucking it under his arm. “What should we say? No broken bones? You’re the one who bruises easily here.” Tim is the only one who has training comparable to what Jason got under the league of assassin’s, which is why Jason chooses him to spar with over any of his other “family” members. Tim is also the only one he really finds any kind of tolerable, which is pretty bizarre considering the way their relationship began, but true. 

tim just rolls his eyes. as someone who went toe-to-toe with kon just a few days ago--for training purposes only, of course, and he’ll deny if anyone asks, but it left him breathless in more ways than one. anyway. he went toe-to-toe hip-to-hip with superboy less than a week ago. jason is nothing. “sure. no broken bones.” a pause, huff of breath. “are you just going to stand there or--? i have a team to get back to sometime today.”

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

oh no.  even when tim caves, he wins.  kon’s thrilled to feel tim this close.  the steady thrum of his heart can almost be felt and heard.  kon’s thrilled, by he’s – he’s something else too.  he’s stripped down.  kon loses every time, because he’s so goddamn lost in tim.  swept up in the wild look he gets in his eyes, laid low by the history between them.  

his fingers clutch desperately at tim’s hip.  now that tim’s given kon this, he won’t give it up for all the world.  greedy now, so fucking greedy and needy and drowning in this moment, kon leans in like he’s done a thousand times and kisses tim.  

the first brush of a kiss already has kon wound tight as a spring, and he puts his other hand on the back of tim’s neck to keep him there.  to ground this moment.  oh, damn it.  kon wonders, not for the first time, why the hell he bothers with games when he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would move mountains just to lose to tim again and again and again.

it’s like he’s catching fire and the thrill of it will kill him. kon’s lips brush against his and--jesus--he’s lost in it. lost in the taste and the feeling and the knowledge that he’ll have kon’s fingerprints on his hip as bruises for the next several days. that the biting sting of his grip won’t fade. he’s burning higher and higher.

running his hands along whatever part of kon he can touch, reverent, enamored. nails catching on the material keeping him from kon’s abs, from his spine. his other hand hooks onto the base of his neck and keeps him there, pulls him close and presses every line of himself as close as he can to the heat of kon. 

losing is also winning. tim’s known that from the start, but every time the feeling of losing and of winning gets more and more intense. he’s desperate, unraveling before kon in a way he doesn’t know how to fight. doesn’t want to fight, not for the life of him. he moves his lips’ attention from kon’s mouth to his jaw, to his throat, to the sneak-peak of collarbone his shirt allows. not just desperate, hungry. 

[redrobiiin-blog]

soulshiines:

@redrobiiin

    dick drops his voice, and even still, he’s waited until the cops have carted off random a-hole #6 of the night.  “ did you just – try a batman voice ?? ” he asks, throwing tim a sidelong glance.  that was some batman level intimidation dick just witnessed.  “ i think you gave them…ya know, a fright. ”  all three foot nothing of tim was scary as hell.  and dick’s not laughing, not at all.

sometimes he trips up. sometimes all the things he’s learned about batman and nightwing and red hood and catwoman and everyone get tangled up in his brain and he absorbs behaviors. he doesn’t like to take credit for it, just a slip of tongue, a shift in tone. but it happens. and it happens in front of dick, of all people. tim shrugs. makes sure his voice doesn’t crack as he looks down at his shoes, readjusts his gloves. “that’s what we’re supposed to do, right?”

[redrobiiin-blog]

damnedsuper:

kon is strong; he’s not going to cave.  tim pulled away, and as far as kon’s concerned, that means the game is over.  no one wins, no one loses.  a stalemate.  but ‘clone boy’ always threatens to do him in.  anyone else would get a mouth full of teeth for that, but not tim.  tim makes it sound like an endearment.  

and for a brief, treacherous, terrible moment, kon’s not thinking of his hands greedy on any part of tim he can reach.  he’s thinking of a hand on tim’s cheek and kissing him softly once.  softly, like they never really are with each other.  and holy shit, kon has got to get out of here.  “ you know where to find me, ” kon says, edging his way towards the door. 

his gut betrays him. so do his feet. and his hands. there’s a wonderful, beautiful moment where kon’s expression changes, just a hint of difference, a subtle shift. and there’s a second where tim thinks maybe he’s won. or maybe there’s something bigger than the game. but there isn’t, and kon starts towards the door with a dismissive response that leaves tim’s desire steaming and his throat all locked up. 

kon takes a step backwards, tim takes a step forwards. and he wants to kick something, wants to win this stupid fucking game for once and have kon cave. have kon want him so badly he can’t think about anything else. can’t touch anyone else. but he can’t do it. can’t seem to make the same impact left in his own... everything. one step becomes two and two become three and he crosses the room in quick strides, grabs one of kon’s hands and pulls it to his hip. 

says nothing. 

[redrobiiin-blog]

starter call!! y’all know what to do!