Disclaimers: They aren't mine. My love is pure.

Spoilers: Really intensely vague ones for the
current run of Teen Titans.

Summary: Kon doesn't have issues so much as
kinks.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: A few of us have been really
obsessing about Tim (no, *really*) lately, and
this owes a lot to that sort of thing. Specifically
Livia's story "And burn the phoenix."

Acknowledgments: To Jack and Livia for
audiencing and helpful suggestions.

*

Bart reads a lot -- a *lot* -- these days, and it was
something for Kon to get used to, and he still really
*hasn't*, for the most part -- Bart saying random,
out-there shit isn't new, but Bart saying random,
out-there shit that's deep and true and *correct*
really is -- but some things really do stick.

Like when he started talking about their uniforms.

And really, any conversation about the things Kory
tends to wear -- and not wear -- is bound to be a
deeply entertaining one, as far as Kon is concerned,
but it was also actually pretty interesting. It totally
makes sense for Kory to be the kind of person who
"expresses her vulnerability aggressively," and
"announces her sexuality as both warning and
invitation."

There are few things cooler than being able to hide
your normal, every day, teenaged perviness behind
a perfectly plausible facade of, like, psychology.

But then Bart had moved on to *Tim*, and really...
okay, yeah, he was still making sense. "Deeply
invested in his privacy," absolutely. "Confidence
based more on preparation than anything innate,"
is a little difficult for Kon to wrap his head around,
but still, yeah, plausible.

And *then* they'd started talking about fashion and
stuff, and yeah, pretty damned girly on top of the
gay, but... interesting.

Because, like, he's missed a lot of pop culture with
the whole 'artificially aged in a tube' thing, and
trying to play catch-up with Bart is a lot like trying
to do your math homework while on a roller coaster
while actively fighting supervillains, but still. Kon
has picked up a few things.

Like the fact that it's really kind of *recent* that
people started walking around in public while also
showing skin. Which is just one more reason to be
perfectly fine with the fact that he's a kid, as far
as Kon is concerned. But there's *stuff* there, too.
Like that one weird science fiction movie they'd
watched that wasn't *that* old, but was supposed
to take place, like, a *really* long time ago, maybe
even a hundred years or so.

And there was a scene where the woman falls off
a ladder and suddenly you could see, like, her
*calf*, and everyone freaks out.

And it was *bizarre*, but after the talk about the
uniforms? Kon totally got it.

Because the first time he saw Tim walking around
in just a pair of boxer shorts, his brain pretty much
broke.

Like, seriously *broke*, because it wasn't like Tim
was making any big deal about it or anything, and
*that* was a *huge* deal. On the one hand, sure,
he didn't actually expect Tim to *sleep* in the
Robin suit, and he'd been fully aware that when
they had to hang out as a team overnight Tim was
probably sleeping *somewhere*, at *some* point,
but... wow.

Suddenly, every weekend, Tim was -- and *is* --
almost entirely naked for a few hours a night right
over *there*.

So, yeah, he'd managed not to do more than blink
and stammer a little bit that night when he'd gone
over to see if Tim wanted to sneak out and hit San
Francisco, but that was about the limit of anything
that could be remotely be referred to as smooth.

And now it's a weekly *thing*. And he *knows*.

And, being as how it's a Saturday-about-to-be-
Sunday, and they'd been training all day, and Tim
is alone in his room with the door closed... he
could be almost naked again right now.

And it's not like he has issues, or anything. Or...
not *that* kind of issues. Kon has never really
seen the point of freaking out over getting turned
on by things. Like, so long as you weren't popping
a boner whenever you saw, like, a *mime* or
something, you were fine.

So it's not that.

It's just, you know, Tim.

He's known Tim for about as long as he's known
*anybody*, and really, it was a good day -- a
*notable* day -- when you saw the guy's forearms.
It's not *his* issue. Or it shouldn't be.

So maybe he spends a little too much time thinking
about it. Or even a lot too much time, because,
man, how *dare* Tim answer the door in his
boxers like that? How could he not *know* it
would break Kon's brain?

Did he do it on purpose?

And, okay, so the idea of Tim *flaunting* his lean,
muscular, pale, scarred -- really, really *scarred* --
almost nakedness is funny. Or *should* be. But it's
also really hard to think fair, rational thoughts about
the whole thing.

As opposed to unfair, perverted, and downright
*insane* thoughts, and dammit, Tim is who he
*talks* to about those. Or maybe not the perverted
ones. He could probably talk to Bart about the
perverted ones, and Kory would maybe even
encourage him to, like, go into detail and maybe
she would start breathing heavy and he really
ought to be able to *decide* whether perving on
Tim or perving on Kory is more disturbing and
wrong.

He doesn't think that's too much to ask.

Either way, he's definitely perving, and he's in his
*own* room, and he's alone, and Tim is
somewhere else. Possibly while being almost
naked.

Kon squeezes his eyes shut and breathes and tries
really hard to stop thinking about the scar on
Tim's neck. He should at least be thinking about
the scars on Tim's chest or the ones on his thighs.
It's not like Tim's neck is all that hidden,
considering. It's right *there*, and even if he was
fully dressed it would *still* be right there. One
good tug on the collar away from being exposed.

'Exposed' is one of the best, most terrible, most
wonderful, most ball-tightening words in the
English language. It just is.

It would be better if he wanted to *do* things.
Good, hot, sexy things like licking and biting and
sucking and rubbing himself all over Tim to see
what the scars feel like on his dick. And he
absolutely, totally, *completely* does.

It's just that he kind of thinks he'd want to spend
a lot of time looking first. Or during. After. Before
he does it *again*.

Maybe he can convince Tim to go swimming with
him or something. Reasonably cold water would
certainly help with the whole not-jumping-Tim thing,
that really increasingly difficult thing, and Tim
*smiles* at him now and *says* stuff and --

Right, swimming. Because he could see all of that
and-who-*knew* Tim-skin, and maybe kind of get
his *fill* before... before.

And... and. It's night. Everyone is asleep. They
could do it *now*, and no one would bother them,
or walk in on Kon staring helplessly at Tim's
almost naked body. The perfect crime.

He has his suit in his hand and he's out the door
before he can think about it, and not thinking
about it gets him right up to Tim's door, gets him
*knocking* on Tim's door before he realizes that
he has no real idea how to say "please come be
naked for my viewing pleasure" without, you know,
*saying* that.

And also his jeans are doing just about *nothing*
to hide the fact that he's *thinking* that and "oh,
crap."

"What is it, Kon?"

And it's a completely serious question, in that
I'm-ready-to-listen-to-you-angst-at-me Tim-voice
that he's somehow supposed to be able to *deal*
with despite the fact that Tim is doing it *again*.

Being almost naked. In plain blue boxer shorts.

"Oh, crap."

"Okay, I'm getting that there's a problem. And
you're holding your swim trunks, so I'm thinking
there's a problem... with the pool?"

And there's that smile, the tiny, tiny one that
always seems so huge when Tim's in uniform, and is
somehow even more huge now that he really just
*isn't*. Because the smile is all about Tim's really
soft mouth, and it's usually this nice contrast
between that softness and the perfect not-soft-at-
all-ness of his uniform, but now there's just that soft
mouth and the skin, all the *skin*.

And it's not that Tim's body is in any way soft.

No, strike that, his *skin* is soft. And smooth. And
warm under Kon's hands, and he knows that because
the swimsuit is on the floor, and he's *touching* Tim,
touching his shoulders and kind of pushing him back
into his room. *Moving* them back into Tim's room,
and now Tim's doing that thing where his forehead
is crinkling because he's -- probably -- trying to raise
his eyebrows despite the mask, but he's also just
going with it.

Walking backwards with perfect grace just as if
horny guys always grab him and move him, and it's
the sort of thing he's used to.

Kon kind of hopes he is, because now they're right
next to Tim's bed, and it's just a *little* bit rumpled,
but really, anything that belongs to Tim *and* is
rumpled is just another thing to make him hard.

"Kon...?"

Now would be a good time to say something.
"You're almost naked."

"It's true."

"I... really want to do something about that."

"You want me to put on clothes?"

"Absolutely not."

Tim's mouth twitches. "So you want to do something
about me being almost naked that involves me
*staying* that way. I just want to be clear."

"Tim." His voice is low and kind of hoarse to his
own ears. It makes Tim's expression... shift. His
forehead smoothes out and his mouth gets even
*softer*-looking, and Kon squeezes Tim's shoulders
and leans in and --

"Close the door."

"What...?"

Another of those twitchy smiles. "The door's open,
Kon. Close it."

And that's a great idea. An *excellent* idea, except
that it involves letting go of Tim. Or... no, he has a
little too much shame to drag Tim along with him,
as well as the deep and maybe -- maybe -- irrational
terror that if he gets Tim close to the exit, he'll
make a break for it.

"Kon --"

"Kiss me first."

And he can see Tim's teeth, but it's not a smile, or
anything like one. It's... he leans in and Tim leans
in and it's hard and shockingly loud, lips and teeth
and tongue and *wet*, and Tim's hands are
between them, flat on Kon's chest and rubbing. A
little.

And then Tim *shoves* him, and... sits down on
the bed. Another one of those you-can't-see-my-
eyebrow-but-I'm-raising-it things.

"Right. The door." Kon flies over and forces himself
not to slam it and flies *back* and Tim's got one
foot pulled up flat on the bed and his hands are
kind of curled over the edge and Kon *doesn't*
tackle him. That would be overkill.

He does, however, lift and move and *shift* Tim
with his TK until he's flat on the bed and still so
very, very almost naked.

And looking at him.

Kon could do without the mask, but he also thinks
Tim losing it *now* would maybe kill him, so... not
now. He strokes up over Tim's torso with both hands
and then down again, settling his hands on Tim's
waist and just... looking. Little red-brown nipples.
Six scars that are big enough to be immediately
visible. The waistband of Tim's boxers isn't even --
it dips a little over his right hip, and Kon sets his
thumb there.

Tim's half-hard.

And it's all... it's like being hit, repeatedly, with a
large, sexy blunt instrument. All of these *facts*.
Scars and skin and half-*hard*, and Kon feels
himself shake a little, and Tim's touches his face.

"You okay?"

"Yes. No. Fuck, yes, Tim, you're not wearing
*clothes*."

"I could say something here about how I was going
to go to *sleep*, but I'm guessing that isn't your
point."

Kon's laugh is cracked to his own ears, and he buries
it against Tim's stomach. The skin jumps beneath
his mouth, and then stills. Which is... still another
blunt trauma of lust. Kon kisses him there, slow and
with a lot of tongue, and Tim jerks again. Again
when Kon uses his teeth a little.

And the hand isn't on his head anymore.

Kon looks up as much as he can without moving
his mouth, and Tim is... he's got one hand curled
around the side of the bed and the other flung
backwards over the pillow. He's turned away and
flushing a little and... "Tim."

Tim shudders, once. "Yeah," he says, and doesn't
turn.

"Is it... what do you want me to do?"

Tim takes a deep breath, and Kon can *feel* him
moving, and fuck, of course he can, he's *on* Tim,
but it still makes him *flex* in his pants.

"I just... I want to get you off."

And Tim *still* doesn't look at him, but he makes
this hot, soft little *sound*. Like a whimper, only
*higher*, and it's easy to forget that Tim's voice
just *isn't* deep, but this is different.

Kon grinds into the mattress and licks Tim again,
sliding his hands up from Tim's waist to play with
the hair under his arms for a second before moving
up over Tim's shoulders. The muscles are tensed
under his palms, and it's just...

He has to get closer, further *up* the bed so he
can stroke Tim's face, and the sleek coolness of
the mask, and the curve of his ear, and everything
else. He presses his thumb to Tim's lips and Tim is
*biting* himself.

"You want this --"

"*Yes*."

"Fuck. Fuck, *Tim*," and Kon has to kneel up, get
his *jeans* open, and when he moves Tim *finally*
looks at him, mouth slack and arms even *more*
tense.

Like maybe he was thinking about reaching out to
*keep* Kon there. He pulls off his t-shirt and works
on his fly, and Tim's *still* looking at him, really
kind of *staring*, and Kon's hands are shaking, and
he's so hard that the head of his dick is pushing at
the waistband of his shorts. He pushes them down
and Tim.... twitches. A little.

And Kon wants to say something witty and sexy,
something like how Tim can do anything he *wants*,
only a lot less desperate. He doesn't even bother
trying, because he's not sure he can get anything out
but heartfelt vowels, anyway.

He crawls up the bed and Tim spreads his legs wider,
making *room* for him, and it's just the hottest thing
*ever*.

Right up until he drags his dick over the bulge in
Tim's boxers and Tim rocks up at the same time that
he *arches*, and Tim makes this long, low 'ohh' sound
and Kon braces himself over Tim, hands on either side
of the pillow, and has just enough time to think "can't
stop," before his hips find their own rhythm and --

"*Kon* --"

And that wasn't soft at all, and Kon wants to cover
Tim's mouth and he wants to kiss him and he *needs*
to stay right where he is, grind and thrust and *fuck*
himself against Tim's fucking *shorts* and watch.
Tim's head tilted back, flush spilling right down his
throat and the upper part of his chest until every scar
is a livid, white exclamation. "You're so... you're
so --"

Beautiful, he can't make himself say, and Tim has
both arms bent back over the pillow, both hands
*hidden*, and every muscle in his arms stands out
stark and hard.

"I want to... God, want to taste you, Tim --
*fuck* --"

Tim bucking up so *hard* under him, wrapping his
legs around Kon's *waist* --

"You feel so good --"

Cotton of his boxers and every brush of hot, sweaty
skin, and the scratchy hairs on Tim's legs moving
along his back and sides, and every other breath is
another shot of pre-come, then *every* breath, and
it's like coming a little bit every time. He slides
through the wet and hot, through the tangle of Tim's
shorts, and digs his fingers into the mattress.

Watches his own sweat fall all over Tim's chest, on
Tim's *face*, and whimpers because he wants to lick
it off, and because he doesn't know how he's ever
going to stop.

"Tim. Tim, I think I need you..."

And the sound Tim makes, the shouting *growl* of
it, knocks the orgasm right out of Kon, and he has
to use the fucking TK just to keep from falling
*over*.

Because Tim's still *moving* under him. "Wait...
wait a second --"

"Can't. I can't -- Kon --"

And he lets himself fall, crushing Tim to the
mattress, and he has to do that, *too*, hold Tim
down and *feel* him, and had he really thought he
was just horny?

He kisses Tim hard, and he knows it's *too* hard,
because he can taste blood, but Tim just kisses
him right back, rough hands on Kon's shoulders, on
his head and his face, and Tim says, "more."

Kon pulls back, nodding jerkily, and crawls
awkwardly down the bed, tugging Tim's *wrecked*
boxers down while Tim lifts his hips *up*, and he
wants to get them all the way off, but... naked.
Naked and hard and slick with Kon and just
*himself*, and Kon wraps his fist around him and
Tim sits up and grabs Kon's *head* and that's too
much. Too *good*.

He mouths the head, managing for about a minute
to make it slow and something like what he *wants*,
but Tim is gasping and groaning and *scratching* at
Kon's head, hips twitching up and up in hard little
thrusts, and Kon gives up and goes down. Sucks
hard and bruises his mouth on his own fist and
squeezes and *sucks* and Tim comes in his mouth.

Kon groans, swallowing, and Tim shoots a little more
and *whimpers*, falling back on the bed. Kon pulls
off and kneels up when he can remember how to
make his body work, and wipes his mouth with the
back of his hand. And stares.

Tim is a naked, sweaty, naked *sprawl*, breathing
hard and still flushed. His boxers are a wet tangle
around his knees, and there's come spattered on
his stomach. Kon's dick twitches painfully, and it's
absolutely nothing to what his brain is doing.

"I think I'm going insane."

Tim laughs hoarsely, turning his face against the
pillow. "I like it."

"I can *tell*."

And Tim's naked, so Kon can *see* him tense, and
he can't decide whether he wants to pet him or
flip him over on his stomach and start over.

He thinks he wants to *say* something, but when
he opens his mouth all that comes out is a moan.
Tim reaches up and strokes his arm, looking at him
again. *Really* looking, because he's apparently
found the time to flip the lenses up on the mask,
and his blue eyes are wide and serious and framed
a little oddly by the mask.

Kon gives up and stares some more, and, after a
moment, the eyes aren't serious at all and Tim's
mouth is twitching.

"What?"

"All I had to do was strip to my shorts?"

"I..." Kon thinks about it. "Yes."

And that's an actual *grin*, lazy and happy. "I'll
keep that in mind."

"It might have worked if you were wearing a t-shirt,
too," Kon says, in the interests of honesty.

Tim snickers. "Knee socks?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

The laughter fades again, slowly and weirdly. Or...
weirdly *naturally*, which doesn't make any sense
except for how it does. It's Tim, and Tim seems...
really calm. Kon strokes a slow, experimental hand
up the length of Tim's thigh, and Tim just keeps
watching him.

Kon slides his hand up to the crease between Tim's
thigh and abdomen and digs in a little, and Tim
exhales a little louder than necessary.

And kicks the boxers all the way off and spreads,
still watching Kon steadily.

"Uh," Kon manages, after a moment.

The glitter is back over Tim's eyes. "We've got
until morning," Tim says.

Kon grins down at him.

And wonders if he can get Tim to put on clean
boxers.

Maybe the tunic.

end.