The Perils of Dating Tim Wayne

Conner Kent stood nervously in one of Wayne Manor's many hallways, outside majestic wooden doors that led to Bruce Wayne's private study. His heart was pounding, and a drop of sweat went down his temple as he waited to be summoned inside the room.

Earlier that night when Tim let him in the living room, two men stood at the living room doors, glaring daggers at him. Tim introduced the taller one as Jason, his second elder brother, who had some cool looking white curl of hair as part of his bangs. The other one as Dick, who glared even harder at him than Jason. Conner swallowed the lump in his throat. Tim's older brothers were scary. And Tim's dad would be even scarier.

He almost jumped when the door opened.

"The Master is asking for you, sir," said the butler, and let him in.

Tim went to his side, and held his arm as he led him to the oak desk, where behind it, Bruce Wayne was sitting. Dick and Jason were by the window, once again glaring at Conner. He heard the door close behind him with a soft click.

"Daddy, this is Conner," said Tim, "He's a senior at school,"

"G-good evening, sir," Conner greeted the most powerful man in Gotham.

It was like he could feel Mr. Wayne's stormy blue eyes stabbing him over and over again. His stomach hurt. He was gonna die. There was no doubt that he was gonna die. And Tim's dad and his older brothers were his murderers, and they were going to get away with it.

"What business do you have with my youngest son," Bruce looked at the sheets of paper that were in a cream colored folder. "Conner Joseph L. Kent?" he set the folder down on his desk and looked at Conner as he took off his glasses, and set it down beside the folder.

Once again, Conner swallowed the very big lump in his throat, and gathered his balls and said, "I would like to ask Tim out on a date, sir," Where the hell did Tim's dad get that piece of paper with his full name? He was dead, really dead. Like 'chopped to a million pieces and thrown in the ocean to be eaten by the sharks' dead.

"Hmmm." was the only thing Bruce said. Conner didn't know if that meant he could take Tim out. "And what if I don't let you?"

"Daddy, please," Tim frowned a bit, and he was still holding onto Conner's arm, which Conner was absolutely grateful for.

"I will respect your decision, sir," answered Conner, "But that will not stop me from pursuing Tim,"

"Jesus, he pisses me off," Conner heard Jason whisper angrily, who looked away from them and out to the window.

Bruce looked at his older sons, then back at Conner. "You may," said Bruce. Conner smiled, relieved. "If Tim gets so much as a tiny scratch from a rose thorn on his thumb, I assure you, I will personally chop your dick off,"

The smile on Conner's face disappeared in less than a second. Maybe he should ask his father to prepare his casket.