Disclaimers: They are *so* not mine, dude.
Spoilers: None, really.
Summary: Just start singing "I Think We're Alone
Now." That's close enough.
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Author's Note: Lots of people have been poking
me to write schmoop. So I wrote schmoop.
Intended as part of the Connection series, taking
place sometime after "In Your Room."
Could be read as a standalone.
Acknowledgments: Lots of love to Weirdness
Magnet, Jack, Livia, and L.C. for holding my hand.
Tim's smirking at him. "You look like you're hiding
Kon's willing to admit Tim has a point. He is kind
of... *pressed* back against Tim's door. But. "I'm
"No?" Tim stops juggling the small, innocuous
pellets that are probably small nuclear warheads.
Three in one hand, two in the other. "Then
"It's..." Really phenomenally stupid, actually. Even
for him. Still. "Nothing."
Tim gives him a look, and shifts until his back is
against the wall. He's sitting cross-legged on his
bed, just like he's a normal kid, instead of
someone who sees nothing wrong with hanging
around in pajama bottoms and a mask. "Nothing,"
Kon settles a little more of his weight back against
the door. "Maybe something."
"Mm-hm." Tim rolls the pellets around in his left
hand, then the ones in his right. He isn't quite
Eyebrow raise. And...
"Doesn't that ever get uncomfortable?"
"Not since the time I accidentally ripped one off."
"You ripped off an *eyebrow*?"
"Not *all* of it." Tim gives him another look, and
then bends to stick the pellets... somewhere. The
line of his back is long and... nice. Really nice.
Kon's pretty sure he'll get used to seeing Tim
half-naked... never. He's okay with that. Some
things deserve appreciation.
And when Tim sits up again... "Are you going to
"We spent all day yesterday playing taxi service
for supervillains. After which we pretty much all
passed out." Or, well, *he* did. For all he knows,
Tim had stayed up to build Alcatraz better
security or something.
"We spent all day *today* cooped up in that
stupid classroom getting quizzed on supervillains
no one has seen or heard from since, like,
Nightwing was *your* age."
Another one of those not-quite-smiles. "You're
building to something. I can sense it."
"Oh, don't be an asshole. We haven't gotten a
chance to... be alone. In a while."
"Five days. Dana says I should give that nice
Conner boy a hug for her, by the way."
"I like her. Tim --"
"What *I* don't get... is why you're over *there*."
"Well..." I'm kind of savoring the we're-alone-now.
He's not actually saying that.
What he's doing, mostly, is watching Tim... unfold
himself. His legs. And it's not like he's suddenly
Gay Porn Robin, Now With Extra Weaponry or
something. He's just got his feet flat on the bed
and his knees bent up and spread a little and
okay maybe it's totally porn.
That smile actually exposed teeth.
Kon likes that smile. A lot, actually. And --
Kon waits. "Why am I waiting?"
More teeth. He's being spoiled. "Well. Since you're
Tim looks down at the bed. "I've been thinking."
"I like your thoughts."
A brief *look*, and... okay, porn or no porn, Kon
wants the mask off. He *knows* that look.
Tim's eyes are a perfectly normal blue, right up
until they pick up a glittery little *shine* that...
says a lot, really. "Tim..."
"You talk a lot. About jerking off."
"Uh. Not as much as I do it?"
Tim laughs, a little. And. "Yeah. I... you know it
turns me on. Thinking about it."
And... *yeah* he does. Facial expressions and
everything. "You... uh. Want to see me jerk off?"
Tim... shifts. "Yeah."
Kon nods, and thinks maybe he's nodding too
much. He has to think about where his *off*
switch is, because... of *course* he would. He's
*Robin*. Watching is who he *is*. Kon takes a
breath and starts working on his fly. "But... um.
Why am I over here?"
He watches Tim watch *him* push his jeans
down to his thighs. And his shorts. And... he
wonders how *much* Tim has to be narrowing
his eyes for Kon to be able to *tell* through the
mask. And he also... "Because...?"
He kind of knows.
He knows *more* when Tim reaches up to flick
back the lenses and... "Tim."
"Yeah. Show me."
And okay and also absolutely. He's been half-hard
for... he doesn't even want to *think* about how
long he's been half-hard, because it's painful and
ridiculous and also evil. And his own hand is
*just* his own hand, but it's also something that
Tim seems to think is really nice to look at.
Or maybe it's just his dick.
Kon leans his shoulders back against the door and
spreads as much as he can with his jeans around
his thighs. "Is this... what you wanted?"
"It's... yeah." Tim licks his lips.
"No, tell me. Do you want..."
Tim looks him in the eye, and it's like... "I want to
see how you do it. When you're... thinking. About
Us. It's *exactly* like being hit. Kon bites his
tongue and rubs his thumb over the head until he
starts leaking. Breathes. "I think... I think about it
"Yeah..." Tim's not looking at his face anymore.
Tim looks... really damned *focused*. And it kind
of makes him *wonder* if he should be
embarrassed, but... it's *Tim*.
And Kon *likes* seeing him turned on. And also...
'Tim' and 'whim' only *sound* alike.
"How long... were you thinking about this? About
me doing this?"
"Since the first time."
"*Fuck*." Kon's dick *flexes* in his hand and Tim
licks his lips. Not slow or anything, just this fast
little pass with his tongue.
Tim looks him in the eye again. Steady, just like
he's about to say something important about a
mission, instead of -- "Think about it. Right now.
What you... want to do to me."
There's a thud and Kon knows his head just hit
the door. He tries to spread a little wider, and
then just reaches down with his other hand and
gives his balls a squeeze.
"Yeah, Tim --"
"What -- tell me. Tell me what you want."
He has to open his eyes again, just a little. Just
enough to *see* Tim, and watch those eyes
flicker all over his body and... it's weirdly like
being photographed. His chest, his face, his
thighs when he flexes. His pumping hand.
He'd so totally let Tim do it if he didn't know
*exactly* how good Tim's memory is.
"I want your mouth."
Tim makes a sound. A quiet one and --
"Yeah. You make these sounds. You're
always -- fuck, Tim --"
Tim's fingers are curling into the sheets. A *little*.
"It's like you think you're only allowed to be
really loud when my dick is in your mouth."
And Tim just *flushes*. Like the blood is rolling
up to the surface of his skin and all the way
*down*. Right over his chest and Kon squeezes
himself harder and pumps faster.
"Take it out, man. I want to see how hard you
"Show me, please, Tim --"
And Tim *whimpers*, so loud Kon wants to catch
it in his mouth, and he lifts his hips and shoves
the pajama pants down past his knees and --
"Oh, fuck, Tim. Spread your knees... oh *fuck*."
He's *so* not gonna last. Not if 'lasting' means
staying way the hell over here, instead of over
on that bed, where Tim's dick is hard and dark
and just a little wet at the tip.
Wetter as he watches.
"I think -- I'm thinking about fucking you. Wanna
be inside you."
Tim's *panting*, and he's got the sheets balled
up in his *fists*.
"Wanna do it... do it slow --"
"Hard. You like... you like everything so *hard*,
"I like feeling you. When you're not there."
And Kon has to *lock* his knees, because that's
just... "You're so hot. You drive me fucking
And Tim's *looking* at him, and Kon isn't sure
he's *blinking*, and Kon starts fucking his own
fist and Tim's dick just *twitches*. More pre-
come. Jesus. *Jesus*.
"Tim. Let me come over there. Let me touch
Tim moans and his knuckles are *white*.
"Rub my dick all over you. Fuck your mouth --"
"Don't stop --"
"I can't. I can't -- I want you."
Kon rolls his balls in his hand and his dick is almost
too slick, it's too good, and Tim's getting *just*
as slick. "You're so fucking hot, Tim. I'll do
whatever you want, I'll do it hard for you, Tim,
And Tim makes this *noise*, this hot, strangled
*whine*, and Kon hadn't even realized he'd closed
his eyes, but when he opens them, Tim's *coming*
"Oh *fuck*, Tim."
All over his own chest and his head is thrown back
and it looks like every muscle in his *body* is
flexed and Kon doesn't really register that he's
moving until his jeans do their damnedest to trip
him, but it doesn't matter. Bed. Tim.
*On* Tim. Has to push him down, and just...
working his balls is nice, but sliding his hand
through the come on Tim's stomach is even nicer.
"Don't *stop* --"
"Yeah. Yeah, Tim. Gonna -- fuck. Come on
And it's awkward, like maybe he's going to *fall*
on Tim before he does anything else, and he
*can't* brace himself on Tim's stomach, even if
he wasn't just *slipping*, but Tim is staring at
him and Tim is covered in his own come, and
Tim likes to *watch*.
"Oh God --"
And when Tim says his name like that, like he's
something different and special and sexy, when
he looks at him like he's never worn a mask at
*all* -- Kon's mouth falls open on a groan and
he comes all over Tim, driving himself *down* so
the next shot is between them, and Tim grabs his
head and *yanks* him up into a kiss.
Kon moans and gives it right back, rolling them
over until his shoulder smacks the wall and Tim's
mostly on top of him. And he wants to kick his
jeans off and *one* day he'll remember to ditch
his boots *first*, but this is more important.
Sucking Tim's tongue and touching him
everywhere he can reach.
Slick, sweaty skin and the constant, terrifying
and hot little *interruptions* of all Tim's scars.
And then he just has to get his hands up to
Tim's face, and just... *feel* him. He's so hot.
*Literally* hot, and Kon knows that at least
some of that is a blush, and that's even sexier.
The mask is cool and smooth and Tim just
*isn't*. Tim bites his mouth and makes little
growling sounds and sucks on Kon's neck and
*rocks* against him like he *didn't* just come.
"Tim. Tim..." He doesn't have the words that
come after that, but Tim doesn't seem to need
Tim kneels up over him and strokes him through
the shirt and his eyes are *wild*, even with the
mask shadowing them, and Tim curls his fingers
and *scrapes* Kon's chest.
"Fuck, *yeah* --"
"Kon, I want --"
And Tim laughs, one of those two-syllables-and-
out things that usually just mean he's too busy
to be amused, but *this* time it feels more like
Kon reaches up and cups Tim's face and just...
holds him. Until Tim looks him in the eye again,
and his mouth looks soft and... he was totally going
to say something. He has no fucking clue *what*.
"Kon," Tim says, and turns his face halfway into
Kon's palm. Just enough that he can *feel* that
mouth against him while Tim is still looking at
"I want you," Kon says, and it's nothing like
"Yeah. I..." And Tim turns his head a little further
and just breathes against Kon's palm for a long,
hot second before kissing him there.
And then Tim grabs his wrist and holds on just
long enough to swallow two of Kon's fingers into
his mouth and *suck* before pulling off again.
"You want my mouth."
Tim smiles at him, just one of those little, quiet
things that always make Kon want to tell the
world to shut up or something, because he
doesn't want to *miss* them, and... fuck.
He... has it bad.
Tim squeezes his wrist. "I want... I want you
to tell me. What you like."
"You get off on that."
The smirk is familiar, and way easier to deal
with. "Think of it as a feedback loop," Tim says,
and moves down Kon's body. All the way down
to his boots.
And maybe he'll remember to take them off
when Tim stops doing things like bending and
twisting *himself* to do it when his pajama
bottoms are still tangled around his knees. Maybe
freaking *never*. "Feedback loop?"
Tim looks back over his shoulder. "I get off, you get
off on me getting off, I get off *again* on you
"I like feedback loops."
Tim bites his lip. And squeezes Kon's ankle.
The look on Tim's face is a little shadowed. "Do
you ever... get scared?"
Kon blinks. "Of this? All the *time*."
Tim turns back around and yanks off Kon's other
boot. "I can't tell."
"Yeah, well. You usually make me scream for
other reasons." Like the fact that your ass is
right *there* and... yeah. Smooth. Kon sits up
and digs in with his thumbs and just... rubs.
"I want to suck you."
Kon squeezes. "Fuck, Tim."
Tim pushes Kon's pants and shorts all the way
off. *Bending* to do it and --
Tim kneels up again, and looks back at Kon over
his shoulder. And it's a *serious* look. "I want
you to fuck my mouth. And then... whatever else
we do, I don't want you to leave tonight."
"I won't. I..." He wants to say he *hears* Tim, that
he *gets* it, and that he's thinking about... just
anything. *Everything*. "Tim."
Tim smiles at him *again* and turns around,
pressing Kon's hands against his own hips for a
second before pushing them off again. "Yeah."
And he pushes a hand back through his hair, until
it's spiked and messy and...
"Me, too," Kon says, and pulls his shirt up over
his head and off.
And Tim looks at him, and it's the look that
makes Kon want to be naked all the time,
especially with Tim bending in to kiss him, and
press him back down to the bed, and kiss him
more, and kiss him all the way down his chest.
I love you, Kon doesn't say, and pretty much
only because it would probably be stupid to do
it *right* when Tim slips his mouth over the
head of his dick. And then because moaning is
much, much easier. He shoves the fingers of
one hand into Tim's hair, mussing it more.
Spiking it, because he wants to focus on
something other than how good Tim feels, how
hot and wet his mouth is. How *familiar*, in
this weird way like he knows he won't be able
to recall the exact feeling tomorrow, but he
knows that the *next* time Tim does this it'll
feel just like this.
Slow, thick waves of feeling rolling up through
his belly and down his legs, making his thighs
tremble and his breath catch.
Tim hums around him and clutches Kon's thigh
with one hand and wraps the other around the
base of Kon's dick, and Kon remembers that
he's supposed to be *talking*.
The first attempt is just another groan, and
another when Tim shoves his tongue *hard* at Kon's
slit and --
"Jesus, Tim..." He can't stop pushing and tugging at
Tim's hair. "You... like that --"
Another humming sound, and it's a question.
"You want me to be *specific*?"
An entirely *different* sound, and Kon braces
himself on his other elbow and looks up to find
Tim *smiling* around his dick.
"You're gonna kill me."
Tim just *looks* at him, and strokes his thigh.
"Yeah... yeah, I --" Never want you to stop.
You -- "Your tongue --"
Tim closes his eyes halfway and licks him slow,
all around the head, and Kon can *feel* Tim
making noise, but he can't hear him over his
"Fuck, Tim, don't stop. That wasn't -- but don't
Kon clutches Tim's hair and he *knows* it's too
hard, but Tim just looks at him *more*. "Gah."
Tim licks his lips. "'Gah?'"
"Tell me what you like."
Kon forces himself to breathe, but can't stop
himself from trying to thrust into the fist around
the base of his dick. "Your tongue. In the slit.
You ginormous perfectionist control freak."
And he gets a narrow-eyed *smirk* for that, but
there's no time to respond before Tim's on him
again, sucking him in, sucking him *hard*, and
then pulling back to *fuck* the slit with his
"Oh Jesus Tim *yes* --"
It's good. Of *course* it's good, but it's also...
he gets this, too. They've never really settled
into *giving* blow-jobs, as opposed to getting
each other off with their mouths. There's a
difference, but Kon doesn't actually think he's
capable of being specific right now, because
he can feel himself sweating and he can
*smell* Tim sweating and it's --
"So fucking good, Tim..."
"Mmm," and it's around him, all through him,
and Kon feels himself shooting pre-come and
he *knows* he could come like this, but there
are so many *other* things Tim does really
fucking well, and Tim wants to *know*.
"Teeth. Scraping -- *fuck* --"
All the way down to his own fist and all the
way up again, and Kon's pretty sure he would
*not* like this that much if he was more than
half-human -- he *never* does it to Tim -- but
he can't imagine an entire life *without* it.
Like fingers. Nails and heat and on the next
upstroke Tim *flickers* his tongue and --
Looks up. Looks at him and *sees* him and
Kon knows he must look *exactly* as turned
on as he is, because Tim's eyes just *burn*.
And it's just another wordless sound, but Kon
knows it's his *name*, and it makes him jerk
"Suck me. Just don't stop. Suck me off, Tim,
I need you --"
And Tim squeezes Kon's hip hard and goes
*down*, giving his dick one last squeeze before
moving his hand and swallowing him and --
He means to say something, even just Tim's
*name*, but the only thing that comes out is
noise. Which would be fine, but it makes it
harder to hear *Tim*, and feeling him moaning
around his dick isn't enough. Kon bites his lip
and fucks up into Tim's throat and that's...
Fuck. Every little noise cut off with his *dick*,
and Kon cups the back of Tim's head and tries
not to pull him in, tries not to just *hold* him
there, because even though Tim's nose is
pressed right to him, it's not *enough*.
Or it's perfect. He can't --
He can't *think*.
"You feel so good. You feel so -- *oh* --"
Noise, just noise, and Tim pulls off enough to
catch a breath, pushing up hard against Kon's
hand, and when Kon pulls him back down he
*groans*, like Kon's done exactly the right
So he holds on and fucks his way *in*, over
and over, and he can't tell which of them is
making what noise anymore, and it doesn't
matter. It's never been this good, and the fact
that he thinks that *every* time is just one
more reason why he can't stop clutching at
Tim's hair with one hand and the sheets with
Why he's going to come, right down Tim's
spasming throat. Just like this and --
And Tim just digs in with his thumbs and
swallows while Kon shakes. And he has just enough
willpower to yank Tim off his dick and up into a kiss
before he has to fall back on the bed. Tim coughs
into his mouth and never stops kissing. Not once.
Just cups Kon's face and licks his tongue while Kon
tries to get slightly less of a death-grip on Tim's
He pretty much has to make a bargain with his
body before he can, though -- agreeing to roll
them over until Tim's under him, grinding up
against Kon's stomach and starting to bite.
"You always bite when you want more."
"You always respond," Tim says, and his voice
is rough and low. Used.
Kon pulls back enough to stroke Tim's throat with
two fingers, and it seems strange that there are
no marks except for those few, old scars. "You
know I'll do anything you want."
"But what do *you* want?"
"Everything." And it's not a surprise when Tim
cups his chin and squeezes. "I know, you want
specifics." Kon grins. "It's hard, sometimes."
Tim frowns a little. "You never seem to have
trouble saying... things. Like that."
"Oh, well... it's not that. I just... have a hard
time deciding." He grins a little wider. "You're
kind of distracting when you're not saying 'no.'"
Tim raises an eyebrow. "I don't say 'no' that
Tim strokes the line of Kon's jaw with his thumb,
and then his mouth. Kon resists the urge to suck
Tim's fingers into his mouth, and the urge to
close his eyes. There's something about *Tim's*
eyes when he's petting Kon in a not-directly-about-
getting-him-off way. A different kind of focus, and
Kon shakes his head in small motions, dragging
his mouth against the motion of Tim's fingers. "I
could suck you," he says, and Tim's fingertips tap
against his teeth.
Tim takes a deep breath that still *looks* sharp.
"I like it when you fuck my mouth. Maybe almost
as much as you like it when I fuck yours."
Tim's eyes narrow and his mouth twists into this
hot little *snarl*.
"Oh, yeah, Tim..." He presses more of his weight
down, pushing Tim into the mattress. Tim's dick
is a slick-sticky bar of hot and *hard* against his
stomach. "Is that what you want?"
Tim shoves two fingers into Kon's mouth and
pushes down on his tongue, and pulls out again.
"I want to know what *you* want, Kon."
Tim grins at him. "Yeah. I am."
Kon rocks a little. He's got a little while before
he gets hard again, and maybe another few
minutes after that before he *needs* to get off.
But Tim is starting to flush a little. And it's... it's
not that he doesn't *like* playing with Tim.
He's too well-trained not to feel that every
minute of Tim-at-play is some kind of reprieve
from the universe. It's just...
"You've got too much control."
Tim's eyes widen for just a second before
narrowing again. "Do I?"
Kon laughs. "That's not *even* a serious
Small, sharp little smile, and it's something Kon
should probably worry about, because it's one
thing to be trained for *Tim*, and it's another
thing to get off on *everything* he does --
especially since all the Bats *he's* met have a
lot of the same... quirks. But.
It's not like he wants to fuck Batman's mouth
anytime soon. The guy probably has Kryptonite
fillings. And that's... a horrifyingly funny
thought, and he can't quite bite back a laugh.
Tim reaches up to pet his mouth again. "What?"
"Thinking about taking my life in my hands."
"Why don't you think about fucking me,
And that's both an excellent idea and the closest
he's likely to get to finding out what *Tim*
wants. "I can do that. Think about that."
Another glittery look. It's almost a shame Tim
wears a mask. He could probably scare the hell
out of people with a few well-placed looks. Not
that Kon's *scared*, per se. And... he knows
exactly what he wants to do.
He pulls back, kneeling up over Tim, and
spreading his knees. Tim strokes Kon's thighs,
up and down, and never looks away from his
eyes. Kon catches Tim's hands and moves
them, squeezing them for a second before
pressing them back down to the mattress. "Turn
Tim opens his mouth, and it's halfway between
a gasp and something unspoken. And he does
it, thrusting once against the mattress. *Just* once,
and Kon can *see* him holding back.
Tim's all pale skin and lean muscle and scars. It
wouldn't matter if Tim had been artificially aged,
too, before being sent off to be a Batkid -- he'd still
*look* older. Sometimes Kon thinks that's the
biggest attraction. How *worn* Tim is, and how
all that experience is just written all over him in a
way it'll never be on *him*.
Mostly he just thinks about getting his *hands*
on Tim, all over, just like this. Stroking him and
squeezing his shoulders and lifting him enough to
play with his nipples, and then lifting him so that
he's up on his hands and knees and petting him
some more. Tim makes him *feel* like a
teenager, like this is exactly how sex is supposed
to feel if he was normal -- only better.
Neither of them are normal.
And Tim's quiet except for his breathing, but Kon
already knows what that means. Every breath
is another moan, every moment of hard, flexing
tension is just...
"I love touching you, man."
Kon grins and pulls back so he can reach
*between* Tim's legs and play with his balls a
little. "Want some candy, kid?"
Tim snorts and gasps. "I don't know, Mister.
Batman said never to *take* candy from
Kon snickers and gives Tim a little squeeze,
rubbing his back with the other hand. "He totally
did, didn't he?"
"Mm," Tim says, and that's *so* a yes.
Kon takes his hand off Tim's back and sucks two
fingers into his mouth, rolling Tim's balls in his
other hand and watching Tim react.
Probably more to the sounds than to anything
else. Kon sucks hard enough that pulling out
makes a nice, dirty little 'pop' sound and narrows
his eyes at the flush spilling down Tim's back.
"But you like candy. Right, Tim?"
Sharp little exhale. Kon squeezes Tim's sac one
more time and moves that hand up to cup
Tim's cheek and spread him a little. And pushes
in with his wet fingers. Not slow enough. Tim
groans and tenses and shakes. Just for a
"You like it a lot."
"Don't breathe. Don't relax or get yourself under
control. Just..." He pushes in deeper, as deep
as he can get.
"Oh God --"
"Yeah. You..." Tight and *hot*. Flexing around
him. "I want you to come like this, Tim."
There's a weird, cloth-intensive noise, and Kon
looks up just in time to watch Tim uncurling the
fingers of one hand out of a claw.
"Tim. This is what I want. I want to fuck you
like this. I want --"
Kon squeezes Tim's hip. "I want to watch you
"Please -- *fuck* --"
Kon straightens his fingers out of the crook. And
then crooks them again. He's too deep to really
*thrust*, but he can sort of rock his fingers.
"Oh God --"
He can *definitely* do that. Especially with the
way Tim's just rocking right *back*. Taking it.
*Wanting* it. Hard. He likes it... Kon bites his lip
and pulls out slow, holding Tim as still as he
can without using the TK, and listening to Tim
*pant*. "Jesus, you're hot --"
"Kon please --"
"Yeah, I --" He shoves in hard, swallowing back
a groan when Tim shouts. Like they really *are*
alone, instead of in a Tower full of people with
enhanced senses. "Hard..."
Kon pulls out again and licks his lips. He's a lot
less sure of what he wants now. He's getting
hard and he shoves in again and Tim shudders
and... "Yeah. Yeah. I said I would, right?"
Tim just moans and... it's a shock every time.
That Tim's letting him, that Tim *wants* him,
and it should be stupid, but it isn't. Because it's
one thing that Tim wants him, and something
entirely else that he wants him like *this*.
Everything Kon can think of, everything Kon
wants to *do* to him, and it's not until Kon
registers the *rhythm* of Tim's moans that
he realizes that he's fucking him for real. One
short jab after another, and Tim spreads his
thighs and drops down to his elbows and
Every stroke, every twist.
Every time Kon pulls out far enough to make
the thrusts *long*, and the sounds are muffled
now. He looks up, and Tim has his face in the
pillow, shaking his head back and forth and
*gripping* the sheets.
"Don't. Don't stop."
Kon moans and reaches for Tim's balls again with
his free hand, and... fuck, he *does* want to see
Tim come like this, but it almost seems unfair.
Like *taking* something, like *using* Tim, in a
bad way, and he just -- he can't.
He reaches further and wraps his hand around
Tim's dick instead, and he's *wet* with pre-come,
hot and heavy in Kon's hand and *whimpering*.
"I've got you, Tim --"
"I know. I *know* --" Tim gasps and rests his
cheek on the pillow. His mouth is swollen and
soft-looking and his face is damp and flushed.
"God, you're the hottest thing I've ever seen --"
"Don't stop --"
Kon squeezes Tim's dick and strokes him hard
and fast, harder than he normally would, but
Tim's so *wet*. The hardest thing is trying to
catch a rhythm and keep it, but Tim catches it
*for* him, rocking back and forth between
Kon's hands, fucking Kon's fist and fucking
himself back on Kon's fingers.
Every exhale is a groan, and it's starting to
hurt. The *need* --
"Tim, I have to be inside you --"
"Do it --"
He pulls out too fast, and Tim turns his face
into the pillow again and shouts and *growls*
when Kon pushes in. One straight thrust, and it
makes Kon's eyes roll back in his head, makes
him squeeze Tim's dick *again*, and he's back
to having no idea who's making what noise, and
it's back to not mattering.
He pulls Tim up away from the pillow and
against him, sweat and heat and *motion*, and
Kon wraps one arm around Tim's chest and gets
a better grip on Tim's dick and buries his face
against Tim's neck, licking and sucking because
kissing requires too much thought. And biting,
because *he'd* meant to pause a little bit, but
Tim just drives himself back and *down* on him
Likes it hard. Likes to *feel* it, and he can *do*
that. Kon bites the hard muscle between Tim's
neck and shoulder and rocks in, *in*, and there's
nothing like rhythm and he'd have better leverage
if he grabbed Tim's hip, but he needs to *hold*
him, and there's no way he's letting go of Tim's
Kon bites him a little harder, and Tim makes a
noise that sounds like *pain* and reaches back
to hold Kon's head, hands slipping in his short
hair and hips *moving*.
Never stop. Never even --
Tim grunts and spills all over Kon's hand and the
sheets, digging his fingers into Kon's scalp and
shuddering and -- he doesn't stop. He rocks
back *faster*, and Kon moans into Tim's throat
and closes his eyes.
And gives up on doing *anything* but fucking
"Come on, Kon..."
So hot. So tight --
"I need you, too."
It's not enough. It's so fucking *much*, and Kon
squeezes Tim's chest and --
"More." Tim's gasping again. Ragged and --
Kon's squeezing too hard, and fucking him too
hard, and he can't *stop* --
"I *do* like candy," Tim says, and he's actually
*laughing*, and Kon feels himself seizing inside,
feels himself just burning down to stupid, needy
ash at the feel of Tim stroking his face, gently
and awkwardly, even as Kon does his best to
fuck his way *into* him --
"Me, too," and the laughter is gone.
"Oh God --" And Kon shoves in hard and loses it,
coming and listening to Tim groan over the
sound of his own helpless panting.
Tim keeps stroking his face.
He should probably let go. His body wants him
to know what a deep, terrible sacrifice it had
been to stop *biting*, and also wants to know
if he's insane. It's another one of those bargain
things. Kon pulls back enough to bend his head
and press his forehead against the back of
Tim's neck and push.
Kon pushes again. Speech is a little too
Tim snorts and leans forward and Kon leans
with him and eventually they hit the bed. Tim
grunts and Kon's dick twitches weakly and
fervently. He rolls them onto their sides and
Tim makes a humming sound and pets the arm Kon
still has locked around his chest.
He should really let go. He has to...
Go absolutely nowhere. Kon blinks. Tim shifts a
little in his arms and makes a different sort of
"Are you... okay?"
"Gee, Mister, I *think* so..."
Kon snorts against the back of Tim's neck and
feels it prickle with gooseflesh. "You... really
need to stop that."
He's pretty sure he can *feel* Tim smirking. "You
"I..." And he was going to say something witty
and to the point like 'what?' But really, he knows.
Tim's... playing. Still. More.
For whatever reason, Tim's about as relaxed as
Kon's ever seen him when not actively
unconscious and... happy.
The only reason Kon isn't squeezing him harder
is that he'd actually like Tim to continue
breathing. And petting his arm. Still. "So... you
want me to stay?"
If you want to, Tim was going to say. But he
didn't. "I want to. I always... um."
Tim strokes his way down Kon's arm and twines
his fingers in Kon's own. And squeezes.
Kon breathes. "Are you... comfortable?"
"Mm. Eventually I'm going to have to move a
little, but... yeah."
Kon closes his eyes and kisses the back of Tim's
neck. A few times. Tim shivers and squeezes his
Kon presses a little closer, just because he can.