by Te
January 30, 2004

Disclaimers: ::points to DC:: ::points to self:: See?

Spoilers: Of assorted intensity for Teen Titans #6 and

Summary: Kon's joking. Tim isn't.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: I told Livia I felt like writing. Livia?
Has more bunnies than individual hairs. She gave me
this one to play with.

Acknowledgments: To Liv, Pearl-o, and Jack for
audiencing and many helpful suggestions.

Feedback: Oh, *yeah*. teland793@sbcglobal.net


Kon doesn't really know where he's going when he
starts flying. Except that's a *complete* lie, because
it's not the weekend, and anyway, he's heading

But he can pretend he doesn't actually know, and
that helps in that really pathetic way that he tries not
to think about. Right up until he gets to the darker
*and* brighter patch of night that's Gotham. And,
okay, it makes sense. Most of Gotham's buildings are
made of exhaust-stained stone so, yeah, dark. And
Gotham's also a city, so there are always plenty of
lights, so, bright.

Still. On a gut level it always kind of feels like one
more part of what makes the city weird. No real
meta-humans of its own, save for the psycho criminals,
and pretty much all the heroes wear various shades of

Except for Tim.

Sometimes, Kon likes to think that it's because Tim
doesn't really belong there, that the Robin uniform is
all bright because one day Tim will come to his senses
and find a non-creepy city to protect. But, well, no.

There were Robins before Tim, and there will probably
be Robins *after* Tim, and the suit is actually bright
and colorful for important, tactical reasons that make
perfect sense in a place like Gotham.

Just like Tim does.

Kon finds him easily, in the middle of a vaguely circular
collection of unconscious bodies. For a moment, it's
weirdly tempting to make the circle neater. Prop the
guy with the broken nose up against that wall, stretch
the other-guy-with-the-broken-nose out evenly... he
shakes it off and blames Tim for it.

The guy had the kind of orderliness that was
dangerously contagious.

"Need some... extra rope?"

Tim looks around at his handiwork. "Got any?"

"Well, no. I have a belt, though."

For a moment he seems like he's actually considering
it, but then he shrugs. "Nah, I'll just use my extra
grappling line." He starts working on detaching it and
gives Kon a serious-but-not-Robin-serious look. "Meet
you on the roof?"


Tim makes him wait about two minutes, which was
probably just enough time for Robin to check and
re-check his rope work on the unlucky gang members,
if that was what they were.


"What's up?"

"I... uh. Just felt like hanging out?"

Tim grins at him easily and punches the little switch
that retracts the lenses on the Robin mask. His eyes
are colorless in the gloom, except for how it's really
easy for Kon's memory to fill in the blue.

"Does it ever get weird?"

Tim blinks at him. "You know, I do actually have to
go home in two or three weeks."

Kon shoves him. "Jerk. I meant the lenses. I see you
wearing them more than I don't."

"It's not so bad. It's just kind of like taking off
sunglasses after a day at the beach."

"A really violent, painful day at the beach."

"Goes without saying on Gotham beaches."

Kon snorts. "I've got about one more month of living
in Smallville before I lose all my city kid cred, don't

"You never actually *had* city kid cred. We all thought
you knew."

Tim dodges the next shove easily, even with his arms
folded under the cape. And gives him that smirk that's
more about his eyes than his mouth. The cape itself
barely moves.

"Kon, Kon. Is it time to school you yet again?"

And that's... really damned tempting. He can see Tim
seeing *him* take the bait in the way that the cape
moves even less. Robin's own turf, and who knew
what the hell he had in the belt, the boots, the shirt,
and everything else?

There are worse ways to spend a Tuesday night.

He settles for using his speed to smack Tim on the
back of the head. "I actually came by to... talk."

Tim smoothes his hair back into place and grins at
him from under the fall of his hair. "Yeah, I figured.
I was hoping I could distract you with pointless

"Hey, I'm a deep and sensitive soul!"

Tim just snickers at that, but he also takes a step

"Yeah, so..."

"It's about... what I found out, right?"

Kon shoves his hands in his pockets. "I guess I'm
kind of obvious."

"Hey, you could be like Nightwing. When *he* angsts
it could be about all kinds of things."

"But probably Batman."

"Shh, that's a secret," Tim says with perfect solemnity.

"I'll keep that in mind." He kicks a pebble off the roof,
reminding himself at the last minute to do it gently. It
still hits... something audibly. He's getting stronger.

Tim doesn't say anything, but Kon knows he's


"I'm listening."

"I feel like an idiot, you know. I mean. Laying all this
on you."

Tim punches him on the arm. "Look at it this way:
you're getting all your warm, sensitive conversations
over with. You won't actually have to have any more
until your mid-twenties."

"Does it work that way?"

"It does in *my* family."

Kon snickers helplessly. "You realize that isn't
reassuring in the least, right?"

"Well, if all you're gonna do is *complain*..."

And Kon *knows* he's joking, knows that if he actually
intended to pull the grapple it'd be *out* already, but
he can't stop himself from grabbing Tim's arm.

"Hey --"

"It's just. They hate me already." He squeezes Tim's
arm once and then forces himself to let go. "I'm just
a clone to them, Tim."


He scrubs a hand through his hair and thinks about
growing it out again, wondering if it would be stupid
to do it *just* so messing with it will be more
satisfying. "I'm not actually wallowing in my own
self-pity here, man. I mean. I don't *think* I am."

"You're not." Nothing but open sincerity in Tim's

"I just... what are they gonna do when they find out
*whose* clone I am?"

"Well, Batman will probably send Superman and Luthor
identical 'congratulations on your blessed event'
cards --"


Tim sighs and slumps a little under the cape. "I have
to admit, I'm a little out of my depth here, Kon. I
mean... I don't want you to think I'm making fun of
you, you know? This *is* huge and serious. I just
don't actually have any useful suggestions yet."

"Hence the hair jokes."

"Hence the hair jokes. Kon..." And this time it's Tim's
hand on his arm.

He wonders if it'll feel weird if he ever does it without
the gloves. "Yeah?"

"It's gonna be okay, you know? I mean... some of
them, the adults, *are* going to be assholes. But
some of those guys are just assholes every day
anyway, you know?"

He feels himself smiling tightly. "I could say something
about your partner, here."

Tim squeezes his arm and grins. "Funny how I heard
it *anyway*."


"You know... just because I don't have anything useful
to say doesn't mean *you* shouldn't talk. I can keep
myself from making stupid jokes, I swear."

"I... really hate whining."

"You're not *whining*. Come on, man --"

"Tim. You have to promise me something."

"Sure, just tell me."

"If you ever have some huge crisis about something,
you *have* to come to me about it. And whine for
like, hours. Over the course of three or four weeks."

Tim snickers and punches him again, and it *is*
better. Easier. Even though Kon's pretty much dead
serious. "I promise. I'll cry all over your t-shirt. I'll
blow my nose on your jeans. It'll be a party."

The smile this time feels better on his face, even
though it still kind of hurts. "So. I'm worried."

"About Batman."

"Not just him. I mean, Wonder Woman tossed me like
a freaking shotput, man."

"Dude, I know. I mean... you were *just* kissing
Cassie, right?"

"I don't move *that* fast."

Tim puts his hands up in mock-surrender. "Hey, just
checking. I mean, Wonder Woman's a badass and
all, she's just usually not so... uh. Random. With the

"It's *not* random. I was kissing her... protégé or
whatever, and, apparently, that's really freaking
wrong. And Batman pretty much told me he'd *geld*
me if I went anywhere near Batgirl."

Tim frowns at the roof. "Maybe... I mean, they're
both pretty... parental. Sort of."

"Yeah, I know. I mean, it would be funny if it wasn't
all 'the clone' this and 'the clone' that. Like something
out of a sitcom, you know?"

"You shouldn't make me picture the Brady Bunch in
tights, man. That's just mean."

"I'm pretty much going to be paying you back for the
bald joke for years, you know."


And Tim's laughing and smiling at him, but there's
something... else. He can hear something like fabric
shifting on stone, and a... heartbeat? But he's *been*
hearing Tim's heartbeat, and his own, and he's going
to think about that pretty much *never* because he
still hasn't got a handle on the freaking *heat vision*,
and now... he can't see anything. Not really.


But he fucking *knows* that's Batman. Watching
them. *Spying* on them, and it's ridiculously in
character. "Man, one of these days you're going to
have to tell me how you put *up* with this place."

"You should come around one Halloween. Then it
*really* gets creepy."

"Creepier than usual? I mean, considering."

Tim grins at him again. "Yeah, well... not really. But
still. At least there's a *reason* for it to be creepy
on Halloween."

And of *course* Tim is used to this. He *works* with
the guy. And if Kon didn't *already* know Tim was
the most laid back guy in the universe, he'd know

Still, if *he* isn't freaked out by the fact that their
heart-to-heart has an audience...

Kon gives an exaggerated shrug. "Thanks for listening,

"Anytime. You know that."

He is *so* smooth. "Yeah. And, well, Batman was
probably right to tell me to stay away from Batgirl."


Kon grins and winks. "*You* know."

"Kon --"

He leans in, cupping Tim's face in his hands, and
kisses him. Tim is absolutely *rigid* for a second,
which is just hilarious -- this is probably every surprise
he'll get to pull on the guy for a *year* -- but he gets
with the program fast, licking his way into Kon's
mouth and settling his hands on his waist.

*Moaning* into Kon's mouth, and yeah, of *course*
Tim will up the ante. Why *not* give the creepy
Batfreak a show? Kon grins against Tim's mouth and
kisses him harder, and now those hands are sliding
up Kon's chest and... kind of shaking a little.

Which is weird, but also kind of... hot.

Maybe hotter than the kiss, and suddenly it's kind of
hard to remember that he's actually playing a joke,
as opposed to making out with his best friend on a
roof. Which is problematic, but... not that much.

Good show, right?

He takes one hand off Tim's face and slides it down
his back, tugging the cape out of the way to give his
(firm, really *nice*) ass a squeeze, and Tim breaks
the kiss to pant against him.

Perfect timing.

Kon pulls back, licking his lips mostly on purpose.

Squeezes Tim's ass again and thinks, seriously, about
holding on. Because it's a joke, yeah, but Tim looks...
His mouth is all wet and red. But Tim would give him
so much *shit* if he got too into it. Keep it professional,
right. He shakes it off and lets go. Winks again.

"Yeah. I'll see you next weekend, man!"

Tim gives him a funny little wave as he takes off. It's
really tempting to stick around to watch Tim give
Batman six kinds of hell, but... he'll hear about it at
the Tower, if Tim doesn't just IM him or something.

He grins to himself and heads back to Smallville.


Supes93: Man, you haven't been online all week. What's
going on?

CallMeAl06: Don't. Ask.

Supes93: *snicker* Yeah, I'll bet. C'mon, give me the
goods. I'm *dying* over here.

CallMeAl06: *smile* Not tonight. Last night's lecture
went on so long that I barely got home before Dana
woke up and -- shit, gotta go. I'm *supposed* to be
doing homework. Later.


Bart zips Tim directly into the den, drops him on the
couch, waves, and zips out again. Tim pulls off the
weirdly blank full-head mask he has for the Kid
Flash-rides, unzips the arm bands, and just kind of...
tosses them.

And lets his head fall back against the couch.

Kon grins. "You're failing to get used to the whole
3,000-miles-in-a-minute thing pretty spectacularly,
you know."

"Uh? Oh. It's not that."

"Tough week?"

Tim laughs, short and sharp. "You don't even wanna

"Fuck that, man, I'm *dying* here."

Tim smiles humorlessly and rolls his head until he's
looking at Kon. Reaches out to give his arm a
completely strengthless punch. "Kon... Batman saw
us. When we were... you know."

"Well, *yeah*. That was the plan!"

Tim blinks. "The plan."

He pokes Tim in the arm. "So tell me what he *said*,
man! God, we got him good."


"Wait, lemme see if I can guess. 'This is unacceptable,
Robin. Drop and give me fifteen hundred.'"

Tim just looks at him.

And keeps looking at him. And, okay, his Batman
impression is a lot like his Principal Goodwin impression
and his Pa-Kent-is-disappointed impression, but...

"You knew Batman was there."

"Um. You... didn't?"

And the look on Tim's face is... really, really bad. Like
he's about to throw up or something.


He makes a choked little noise and sits up, hands
hanging between his knees and hair falling in his
face. "You kissed me to... fuck with Batman's head."

"I thought you *knew*! I mean... I mean you
*always* know when someone's watching, and I
could *hear* him."

"He was three buildings away."

"... what?"

"He was *three buildings away*, you jackass! And
you have fucking *super hearing* and I wasn't.
Paying. Attention."

And the lenses are down, so Kon can't actually *see*
Tim's eyes, but he also doesn't have to.

And doesn't really *want* to.

"Oh... shit."

Tim shakes his head and smiles at him, but there's
nothing like happiness in it. "Yeah. Shit about covers
it." And then he stands up and heads for the door.

"Tim, wait a second --"

But Tim just throws up a hand and keeps walking.

Now would be a good time to... he has no fucking
idea. There'd been a whole plan. Tim would tell him
whether or not you could see a vein throbbing in
Batman's head with the cowl on, and then they'd
laugh, and then Kon would bitch a little about the
fact that Krypto had *eaten* his boots, and they'd
laugh some more.

And then they'd hang out with the others and maybe
kick a little ass and maybe Tim would've come up
with something really smart about the whole Son of
Luthor thing, or maybe they wouldn't talk about it at

And then, if there was time -- or if they *made* time,
Tim would help him come up with something to mess
with Wonder Woman's mind, because, hey, he'd sure
stepped up big-time with the Batman thing.

Except that he hadn't.

Except that he hadn't been playing at *all*, and it
makes so much sense *he* wants to throw up.

Tim's shaking hands, and that moan, and the look on
his face when they'd stopped kissing and Tim's
*shaking hands*. Tim's hands didn't shake when people
pointed *guns* at his head.

But they had when he'd touched Kon.

"Oh shit."

Bart's wake rocks him sideways. "Are we under attack?"

"Uh... no."

"Do we have something to do?"


"Are you freaking out about something deep and
personal and embarrassing?"

"... pretty much, yeah."

"Got it."

And Bart's gone again. Thank *God* they'd convinced
him to wait a little while before he started using
everything he'd picked up from the psych section of
that library.

Though maybe it would help, right about now.

Because, okay, he hadn't even considered... it. Tim
was his *friend*, his best friend, and you didn't really
do that with friends, unless... he hadn't even let
himself *think* of 'unless' beyond really enjoying the
memory of Tim kissing the hell out of him and
touching him and --

It was just a *joke*. A really, really stupid joke.
Because, yeah, he *owed* Tim for the bald thing,
but... not that. Not...

He can't even wrap his head around it. Because what
if it'd been him and Tim had suddenly kissed him out
of *nowhere* and made him hot enough to kiss *back*
and then said it was just a freaking *joke*?

What if he hadn't *made* Tim hot at all?

His friend. He had just... royally *fucked* with his best
friend's mind. And there's no fucking comfort
whatsoever that he didn't do it on purpose. Why
*would* Tim tell him he had a crush or whatever?

Christ, he hasn't been able to talk about anything but
his own stupid problems for *weeks*.

And for all the jokes about Batman freaking out...

Jesus. Tim had gone toe-to-toe with Batman just for
calling him a *clone*. And Tim... maybe really (wanted)
liked him. Did he? Was he even... he had a *girlfriend*.
Sort of. In that I've-got-more-important-things-to-do
Tim way. Did this even *count*?

And this is one of those times when he seriously,
honestly, actually wants to call Superman. Wants to call
*Clark*, because he'd have to know how to deal with
this, right?

Except that Kon thinks maybe if he ever tried being
completely honest with Clark he might not be able to
*stop*, and that would be... really, really bad.

Even beyond the really terrifying prospect of 'hey, I'm
your clone, and I think I might be kind of gay, and
does that mean...?'

He doesn't think Clark can *have* a heart attack,
but he totally won't make any new friends if he makes
the World's Greatest Hero keel over and die. Because,
yeah, he knows you can't tell by *looking* or
anything, and it's not like Clark spends a lot of time
discussing his sex life with Kon in detail -- dear God
and also *no* -- but... yeah.

He's pretty damned sure Clark is straight. He kind
of doesn't want to know if he *isn't*, even though
him being straight would just mean Kon has to think
about his *other*... donor. Is Luthor gay?

And this is where Tim would probably throw
something at him, or at least glare, and say something
really smart and reassuring about how neither
Luthor *nor* Superman really matters, because it's
*his* life.

His... choice?

And now he's making his own head hurt. And, well,
of course he is, because he's gotten really used to
talking with Tim and whining at Tim and yelling at
Tim and everything else. He *always* does.

Except now.

Kon has no idea what he's supposed to do *without*
Tim. And, okay, maybe that's a little fucked up, but
maybe it's also kind of an answer, too.

It takes two hours, but he finds Tim in his own room.

The *third* time he looks. He's leaning against the wall
between windows, having managed to find the one
spot in the room with an actual shadow. His arms are
folded under the cape again, and he's pretty much
glaring at the floor.

"So. I guess you're kind of... avoiding me."

"Not anymore."

Kon winces. "Bart found you?"

"Fourteen times."


Tim sighs and looks up, resting his head against the
wall. "What do you want, Kon?"

"A do-over?"

Tim snorts, and his expression... It's that smile Kon has
really started to hate. The one that's not about anyone
or anything but whatever nasty thought is running
through Tim's head.

"Tim, man --"

"Yeah, whatever. It never happened, and you were
just kidding, and also it never happened."

"But what if I wasn't? Just kidding."

Tim looks at him, and Kon thinks the mask is probably
making his expression a lot more innocuous than it
actually is. "But you were."

"But what if I wasn't?"

"But you *were*."

"I... look. I'm just..." He takes a step closer, and Tim
doesn't *flinch* or anything. He just sort of stills all
over. "Tim. I've been... you know I *liked* it, right?
I mean, yeah, I was originally just trying to mess
with Batman's head a little, but... um. You can really

Tim snorts. "Steph will be glad to hear the lessons
paid off."

He winces again. "This isn't... going to be easy, is it?"

"Why should it be?"

"Because it could've been."

And this time Tim *does* flinch, and Kon takes it as
his cue to get a little closer. And a little more.

"I mean, that's the point, right? You thought I wanted
you, and you wanted me, too, and... fuck. I don't
know what I'm *doing* here, Tim. I'm trying to talk
to you, and all I can think about is grabbing your ass

Tim's laugh is shocked, but honest, and Kon can't
help but grin, even though Tim's still all folded up.

"I mean, is that even allowed? I talk to you all the
time about asses I like, but, man, right now I'm kind
of focused on yours."

"Kon... you can always talk to me. Always."

Which is... so fucking *Tim* that he's thinking
seriously of hanging himself, or maybe both of them.
Because Tim's gone back to looking at anything *but*
Kon. He braces one hand on the wall, as close as he
can get to Tim's face without actually touching him.
"And if I don't want to talk?"

And Tim just... looks at him. Clear and blank and he
knows exactly what message he's *supposed* to be
taking from it, but all he can think about is Tim's
mouth, and the fact that, in Tim's mind, they maybe
would have been kissing again.

Right now.

He goes in soft, hoping, and for a moment there's...
pressure. But when he tries to lick his way into Tim's
mouth, there's nothing but the rock-solid line of his
lips. Dammit.

"Tim --"

He turns his head.

"Jesus, man."

Which is really Tim's cue to say *something*, but he
doesn't. And there's something really... attractive
about the line of his jaw. Kon kisses him there, and
Tim tenses. He's close enough that he can feel Tim
tensing everywhere, and he really wants to get closer.

He kisses his way back to Tim's mouth, instead, licking
his mouth when it *still* doesn't open. And has to
force himself to stop.

"Say something. Please."

"If this is just another 'I don't know who I am'
Kon-special, then you really need to find another guy
to experiment with."

Jesus. "You know, one day I'd like to see you *pull*
a punch, man. Just for the novelty."

And Tim kind of slumps. Takes a breath. "Okay, that
was fucked up. I know it was. And I'm... really failing
to be sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry."

Tim turns back to face him. "Then what do you want?
Do you *know*?"

"This." And he shoves his thigh between Tim's and
it's even better than he'd hoped. The cape hides a lot,
but he can *feel* Tim, now. And when Tim's mouth
falls open he gets a *real* kiss. Or... okay, *takes* a
real kiss, and Tim's arms are crushed between them
and Tim's tongue is slick and hot and he *wants* it in
his mouth.

He's... so completely not getting it.

He breaks away panting, and *can't* bring himself to
move his leg. "Tim. Tell me what to do here. Tell me
what I *can* do, okay?"

"Do you have any *idea* how fucked up this is? You
figure out that I want you and all of a sudden it's
grope-the-Robin day?"

"Punish me for being an asshole, okay, absolutely, but
Tim, how the fuck was I supposed to *know*?"

Tim looks down again. "You weren't."

"Thank *God*." And he leans in again, and has just
enough time to wonder about Tim's leg curling
around the back of his own before Tim shoves and
*hooks* at the same time, sending Kon sprawling.

"You weren't. Supposed. To know."

"I did a really good job with that!"

Tim kicks him, which doesn't actually hurt, but --


"Don't you *get* it? You weren't supposed to *know*.
And now you do."

And it clicks. Tim. *Robin*. The one who'd held on to
his secret identity right up until the world was maybe
going to end if he *didn't* tell. The one who *none*
of them actually knew anything about that Tim hadn't
*wanted* them to know, even though *he* knew every
stupid little detail about all of *their* lives.

Tim glares down at him for another second and then
turns to leave. Which... no. Absolutely *not*. Kon
grabs a handful of cape and yanks, pulling Tim down
on top of him and holding on.

"Let go."

"Not a fucking *chance*. Tim --"

"Let me *go*."

"Why? So you can go back to being the Mysterious
fucking Boy Wonder? The secret's *out*. You want

"And that's supposed to make me *happy*?"

Kon thinks really hard about putting some *real*
strength in his hold, or maybe just tossing Tim like
a football, but he represses it. "You're supposed to
*cope*. We're a fucking *team*, man, and *we're*
supposed to be friends. Which means that, yeah, I
actually *do* get to know a few things about you.
*And* you're allowed to be wrong.

"Which works out nicely, because you have *never*
been more wrong than you are right now."

Tim doesn't move, and doesn't move, and generally
does such a good impression of a Robin-shaped statue
that Kon wonders if he *should* let him go, but then
Tim relaxes. All over, and all at once. "Tell me what
I'm wrong about."

"That this... that *we* can't be exactly as good as
you were thinking. Before."

Tim looks him in the eye. "How do you know what I
was thinking?"

"I don't, actually. I'm totally guessing. Prove me
wrong, man. Better yet? Prove me *right*."

"You weren't kidding, were you? When you said you
wanted me to talk to you about my issues."

"What? No, I totally wasn't. Jesus, even *before* I
was starting to feel like we were... you know. Uneven."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "'Before,' hunh?"

"Yeah. Before I knew how fucking *insane* you are."

And the punch is definitely aimed at his eye, which is
one of the few places where Tim can actually cause
some pain, if not damage, so Kon feels justified in
using his speed to catch it and flip them over and...
damn, Tim feels good.

Lean and hard just because of all that training, as
opposed to tension. "Tim, man. Can we *please* kiss

"Well, if I'm going to take shit for it, *anyway* --"

Good enough. Kon catches the rest of Tim's sentence
in his mouth and *fuck*, it's good. It's exactly what
he hadn't really let himself think about or feel back in
Gotham, it's Tim's tongue licking his own and stroking
the roof of his mouth and Tim's hands on his
shoulders and Kon's turn to moan.

A lot.

He touches Tim everywhere he can reach, and his
hands spend a lot of time arguing with the rest of
his body about how it would be better to *move*, at
least enough so he could get his hands on the rest
of Tim, but his body's having none of it.

Especially when Tim shifts enough to spread his legs
and hook them over Kon's own and pull them in
*tight* --

"*Fuck* --"

"You wanted to know more about me."

"Hunh?" Tim rocks up under him. "Oh, *yeah*. I
mean, yes --"

"How I feel."

"You feel incredible," and he thinks maybe he'll be
embarrassed about *just* how heartfelt that came
out later. When he can make himself stop humping
Tim. If.

"I wanted you."

"Jesus, Tim." Kon leans in and kisses Tim's throat, or
tries to. *Only* Tim would have a suit that made this
kind of thing difficult. He braces himself on one hand
and tugs at it. "Help me out, here, man --"

"Sure." Tim unhooks the cape and loosens his collar,
pulling Kon back in. "I thought about you, Kon."

He moans mid-suck. "Yeah?"

"Jerked off." And those hands are sliding down his
back, *into* the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh *fuck*." He wants to see that. He *can* see
that. And Tim's neck tastes like sweat and his own
spit and -- "And you weren't going to *tell* me?"

"I didn't know. I wasn't sure."

And it doesn't matter that he's still wearing the
mask, and that the lenses are still down. Tim's
being nothing but honest, hands on his ass and
mouth already kiss-swollen.

Kon tries to make himself breathe, but he can't
even make his *hips* stop moving.

"Are you sure yet?"

And something in what he said, or maybe just his
voice makes Tim's mouth fall open. Wet and red
and so fucking *hot*. He reaches back and grabs
one of Tim's hands, pulling it between them.

"Are you sure?"

Tim takes his hand back only long enough to tug the
glove off with his teeth, and then squeezes him *hard*.
And that's pretty much it for language. He leans up,
tugging at his fly, and Tim just follows him, kissing him
hard and unzipping him, reaching in. "I almost did this
that night. Almost touched you."

"I wish you did."

"No you don't."

"Fuck, *Tim*, man --"

He's close enough that his smile is just another kiss.
"Batman would've gassed us."

And... okay, point. But right now Tim's jerking him
*off*, and he's finally got his hands back on Tim's ass,
and he can taste it every time Tim exhales. "Worth it,"
he manages, and pulls at the shorts and the tights
until he can get to skin.

"Hey, *I* would've been -- oh man. Unconscious."

"Wake you up," and he knows he's not making any
sense, but he thinks he's allowed. And it doesn't
matter, because Tim's ass is smooth and hard and
Tim straddles his thighs when Kon pulls him closer.


"Fuck, *yeah*," and he *knows* he's never thought
about this, but it doesn't matter. Tim rocks and the
head of his dick drags against his own, and he has to
just. Get his own hand down there and wrapped
around both of them, twined with Tim's.


"Did you... did you think about this?"

"Yeah. Other things. Can't --" And Tim jerks them
faster, free hand digging into Kon's shoulder and
mouth hanging open and it's too much and *too*
hot and kissing him again is the only option.

Holding on and jerking them both off and Tim groans
into his mouth and bites and it's all just heat and
*feeling*. Tim's ass flexing against his hand, and
Tim's dick, and Tim's hands and Tim's mouth and Kon
comes shouting into the kiss. Getting them *wet*,
and Tim breaks the kiss to throw his head back and
keeps pumping them both.

Until Kon bites his throat.

Tim stops breathing, stills except for his pumping fist,
and comes with a choked-off groan that Kon thinks
he wants to tape. So damned *sexy*.

After a moment, they pry their hands apart. Tim
wipes his on the carpet. Kon thinks seriously about
yanking the Robin tunic up and wiping his hands on
Tim's chest, but... yeah. Carpet.

For now.


"Yeah. Tim..."

"How are you?" Serious voice. Like maybe he *hadn't*
just shot all over him. Pure Tim.

Kon grins. "Good. Wondering what else you were
thinking about."

Tim shakes his head and tugs them down to the floor,
Kon half on top of him and both of them pretty much
advertising 'sex just happened right here.' Which isn't
an answer, but also maybe kind of is.

Kon gives Tim a squeeze and decides to go with it.

"So... uh. How much trouble *are* you in, anyway?"

Tim snorts. "Well, Batman mostly just glared and
made pointed little comments and generally acted like
an asshole."

"So it was a regular week."

"Yep. But then he started in with the responsibility stuff.
And how I was being reckless and thinking with my

"He *said* that?"

"Not in so many words, but... yeah."



"So, I mean... how do you deal with that?"

"One word: Catwoman."


"Effective. But... yeah. Now you're *really* not allowed
to go all evil supervillain. Because that would pretty
much just suck for me."

Kon pokes him in the ribs. "Yeah, well. I'm not


"There's this guy. Said he'd look out for me."

"You trust him, hunh?"

Kon grins against Tim's shoulder. "Well, he's kind of
a psycho, but... yeah. Pretty much."

And for a moment, Kon thinks that's going to end it,
but Tim turns to face him, bracing himself up on one
elbow and tapping the mask until the lenses retract
and Kon can see his eyes again.

He doesn't actually say anything, but then... he
doesn't have to.

Kon pulls him in for another kiss, and holds on.


.As a whirlwind.