Disclaimers: Not even close to mine.

Spoilers: Vague ones for the current run of Teen
Titans.

Summary: Um. Kory's... flowers. Are. Thing.

Ratings Note/Warnings: NC-17. Content some
readers may find disturbing.

Author's Note: I'm kind of in denial that I wrote
this. It's another sex pollen story. And... really,
pay *attention* to that ratings note. For serious.

This isn't a story so much as... porn. A great,
great deal of porn.

Also, this is WM's fault. I just wrote a different
version of a story *she* wrote. Her fault. Hers.

Acknowledgments: To Livia, Jack, and Reilael for
audiencing and many, many helpful suggestions.
Then L.C. came in and made all things better.
Jack also gave me a title.

*

Tim's kind of scary right now.

Well, Tim's always kind of scary -- it's what Tim
*does*.

But... yeah. Right now...

"Tim! You're under the influence of alien pollen!"

Tim narrows his eyes at Bart, who's kind of vibrating
just out of reach. Kon always wondered how the
masks did that. You shouldn't be *able* to narrow
mask holes. But they can. Hunh.

"Tim...?"

Tim sways on his feet. Kon waits for it.

"Oh, no! Are you okay?"

Tim sways a little more. Kon shifts on his feet a little,
wondering if he should stop leaning against the wall.
Maybe...

"Kon! You have to help! The reaction is getting
worse!" And Bart looks at him.

Too late.

Tim pounces. Kon sighs. Tim had gotten *him*
with that trick, too. And Cassie. And probably Gar,
too. At this point, it's just a matter --

"Tim, you aren't thinking clear -- eeek!"

Kon tilts his head to the side to get a better view
of... yep. Bart's a speedster, and strong, and Tim's
human. But Tim's a sneaky, sneaky bastard. With
zip-strips. Bart's pretty effectively immobilized.
The only question is what Tim's going to *do*
with his bundle-o-Bart.

Kon clears his throat.

Tim kneels up over Bart's body and completely
ignores him, pulling a knife out of... somewhere
and using it to cut a strip from his own cape.

"Uh, Tim."

"Shh."

Right. Kon leans back against the wall and waits.

Bart is doing a good job of sort of... inchworming
away. And then he isn't, because Tim slams his
thighs shut over Bart's own. Pretty impressive,
really.

"Tim! You have to *listen* to me!"

Tim pauses, strip of cape stretched between his
hands. "Your pollen theory is completely
ridiculous, Bart," he says, and gags him.

And then he kneels up again and... purrs.

Kon shifts for an entirely different reason.

Bart makes frantic little sounds that are probably
words, but, well. Words just aren't working, as
such.

Cassie had had much better luck with just using her
lasso as an electro-whip thing. Of course, Tim had
changed her mind.

"Got that under control there, Tim?"

"Hmm...?" Tim is petting Bart's hair.

"The Bart-bondage thing. I'm just wondering."

Tim frowns, distractedly, and pulls another, smaller
knife out of... somewhere else. And cuts off Bart's
mask.

Kon checks. Not even a nick.

Bart's eyes are round and weirdly shiny. It's
probably something about the color and the lights
here in the med-lab, but it's still nice to look at.
They get even rounder when Tim yanks up a
handful of uniform and starts cutting *that*.

The last time Tim had paused in his little rampage
for long enough for Kon to check, Gar was still
holed up in the computer lab with Vic. There's a
reason for that, he's sure. Kon had mostly missed
that, being as he was still unconscious.

Tim pets Bart's chest. He's gotten pretty ripped
in the past... well, he'd probably grown half of
those muscles while they were asleep one night,
and the other half during breakfast or
something.

Kon clears his throat again.

"Mmm," Tim says, and flicks at Bart's nipples with
his thumbs.

Bart makes a really high-pitched noise behind the
gag. Kon checks, and Bart is looking at him.

Kon shrugs, but takes a step closer, just the
same.

And stops, because there are two batarangs
quivering in front of him. One an inch from the
toe of his right boot, the other an inch from the
toe of his left. "Er," he says, intelligently. It's not
like he's *surprised* or anything -- there's a
reason he'd been *unconscious*, after all -- but
still. He hadn't even gotten his feet pointed in
the same direction.

Tim takes his gauntlets off. With his teeth.

"I wasn't planning on interfering," he tries.

Tim pauses.

Kon can hear Bart breathing. It's fast enough to
be just one, solid whine. He swallows. "In
fact --"

"Stop talking," Tim says, and leans in to lick Bart's
throat. Short, steady licks, and Kon bets they're
even in a straight line as they march around Bart's
throat. Bart bucks under Tim and vibrates and
makes a lot more noise.

He probably doesn't care about Tim being neat.
"Tim -- wait!"

Just in time. Tim's giving him another narrow-eyed
look and there's another batarang in his hand.
This one has a little red light on it, which means
it's one of the *explosive* ones.

Thankfully, it's not flashing. Kon's willing to bet
med-labs cost a lot of money. Kon breathes. "I
just... why don't you let me... help."

The slits on Tim's mask narrow even more. "Help."

"Yeah. Uh... yeah." Kon steps over the batarangs
in his path, slowly, and closes the distance even
more slowly than that.

Tim looks up at him.

Kon carefully and thoroughly doesn't think about
how vulnerable Tim's position would be if Tim
were anyone but Tim. Because he isn't *anyone*
but Tim. He crouches beside him instead.
Gestures -- carefully -- at Bart's face.

Tim looks -- and Kon has no doubt in his mind
that Tim is still perfectly aware of everything
Kon is and isn't doing -- and frowns.

Bart's face is flushed and his eyes look like a
cartoon character's. And not a happy cartoon
character's, either.

Kon nods, as casually as he can. "He's not like
the others, you know."

"The others."

"Uh... yeah. The ones you..." Seduced and fucked
and left quivering in their ROOMS, you freak.
"Spent time with. He's young."

Tim doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at
Bart, who's staring at *Kon*.

"Younger than you."

Tim's frown gets more serious, and he moves,
fast as a striking snake. Still slow enough for
Bart to see it and flinch, but all Tim does is pet
Bart's cheek. Gently.

Bart vibrates again and stills. He probably *is*
blinking, but it's too fast to see.

"Yeah, so... Tim."

"I'm listening."

Of *course* you are. "You can't -- er -- you
probably *shouldn't* go about this... in the same
way."

Tim stops stroking Bart's cheek. "No."

Kon blinks. "No? I mean, yes. I mean no, exactly.
Yes. Uh." Kon blows out a breath. If he can just
get Tim *distracted* for a minute... "So --"

"Show me."

"What?"

Tim stands, smoothly and gracefully. He still has
the batarang in his other hand. "Show me how."

"With... *Bart*?"

Tim narrows his eyes again. "You said you wanted
to help. I'm willing to entertain the idea that I
have things to learn in this matter. Hence,
experimentation."

"... experimentation."

"With Gar. And Cassie. You took too long to
wake up."

"Uh, huh. So..."

Tim shudders once, all over, but he doesn't stop
staring at Kon. Not once. "Show me," he says
again, and brings the batarang up to his face,
absently tracing one of the points along his lower
lip.

Kon swallows. He can... try this. But. "You have
to do something for me." The batarang stops
moving. "After," Kon says.

"What."

Don't mention the drugs. Don't mention the drugs.
He will blow up the lab and possibly the ISLAND
if you mention the drugs, so do not mention the
drugs. "There's something... I want to try. With
you."

Tim shudders again, and Bart is... Kon can make
out individual breaths again.

That has to be improvement.

Tim stops shuddering and *bites* the point of
the batarang. "Tell me."

If he bites any harder -- blood. Sliding down
Tim's chin. "Uh." He's really going to have to talk
to Kory about her plants, whenever she gets back
from whatever the hell she's DOING and he is
*never* going to ask Tim what flowers smell like
to him again no matter HOW weird they are
and -- "Dude."

Tim's got the batarang out of his mouth and is
wiping his chin and *sucking* his fingers. He
pulls them out. Slow. "Tell me."

"Well." Thought. Thought would work. "It involves
a bed."

"Mm. I haven't done it in a bed yet."

Kon licks his lips. "Beds are nice." Because maybe,
just maybe, I can hold you down while Bart
restrains your crazy ass. "Soft."

Tim narrows his eyes.

"Or hard. We can --"

"Yes." And Tim tucks the batarang away. "After."

After. Right. Kon takes a breath and turns back
to Bart. He pets his hair and Bart shivers and Kon
remembers that *Tim* had done that and pauses.
"Easy, guy. Just let me..." Kon turns Bart's head to
the side and undoes the makeshift gag, bracing
himself for the babble that...

Doesn't come.

He turns Bart's head back to face him, and Bart's
mouth is swollen and his weird orange eyes are
still much too wide. "Are you..." He's not actually
going to finish that question.

Bart blinks and his gaze flicks up over Kon's
shoulder and back down to him again. "It's okay.
I uh. Um. You have to *show* him."

Kon stares.

Bart stares back really, *really* intently. It's an
I-get-it look, and it's more than a little reassuring.

"Right, so... I'm just going to..." He reaches for
the restraints on Bart's arms, figuring he's fast
enough to get the ones off his own ankles, and
stops. Hand on the back of his neck.

Hard, callused *Tim* hand.

"Uh..."

"He'll try to get away. They always do. You have
to convince them *first*."

Kon chokes back a laugh. "One day, you're going
to have to pretty much never, ever tell me about
what you've learned from the Bat, dude."

Tim rubs the back of Kon's neck with his thumb.

And... keeps rubbing. His thumb slides up into
Kon's hair, and down, and further down into
Kon's collar, and Bart's looking at *both* of them,
but it doesn't stop being hot. It's probably making
it hotter, and he really isn't going to think about
that.

"Not enough," Tim says, and digs one short, blunt
fingernail in hard.

Kon gasps, and bites his lip when Tim drags his
thumbnail down to just under Kon's collar.

"Kon..."

Kon squeezes his eyes shut hard and opens them
again after a second. "Yeah."

"I want to fuck you really, really hard."

Kon's dick twitches in his pants. "You can."
Anytime. When you're not crazy. "After."

Tim sighs behind him, a gusty little exhale that
hits a low note in his chest, and Kon digs his
fingers into the floor and wonders if he's doing
this right and he's not the one who makes the
fucking plans here for a *reason* and Tim takes
his hand away.

And Bart makes a sound.

Just one, quiet little... moan.

Kon looks up at Bart's face and Bart's staring
back over his shoulder at Tim, staring *fascinated*
at Tim, and Kon doesn't know if he wants to know
or *not*. And then Bart looks at *him*.

Bart's uniform is split open down to his waist and
he's breathing hard and Kon can feel *Tim*
looking at him --

"You ready, Bart?"

Bart nods, and... squirms. And sits up and kisses
Kon hard and awkwardly and *fast*, tongue
slipping in and out of his mouth too fast to catch,
and Kon grunts and grabs Bart's shoulders.
They're flexing and moving and Kon *knows* he's
trying to get his hands free, but --

"Kon --"

-- he's suddenly not sure what he's trying to get his
hands free *for*. Which... is no more fucked-up
than the rest of this, when he thinks about it. Which
he doesn't, for long, because Bart kisses him again,
and keeps kissing him, too fast to count, and *licks*
him and -- "Hey," Kon says, and tightens his hands
on Bart's shoulders, pushing him back a little. "It's
okay. You can -- "

Bart's gaze flickers over Kon's shoulder and back.
And then over again and *stays*.

Kon swallows. "Tim?"

"I have to *see*."

And there's a small double-thump behind Kon, and
then Tim's hands are on *his* shoulders and his
breath is hot and damp on Kon's ear.

Bart vibrates under Kon's hands, and Kon rubs his
shoulders with his thumbs. And closes his eyes
and leans in to kiss Bart again, who makes a
sharp, high sound in Kon's mouth and kisses him
back.

Kon can *feel* him trying to slow down to match
Kon's rhythm, and feel him shaking harder and --
*feel* him, because *something* has gotten to
the kid enough that he's bucking up hard with
his hips.

Kon groans and presses a little closer and Bart
*whimpers* and Kon pulls back and Tim bites
his *ear*.

"Hey --"

And licks it, licks *in*, and Kon shudders and
gets it. This isn't a reprimand. This is Tim
enjoying himself.

And Bart's staring at Kon again.

"You... like that," Bart says.

"Uh --"

Tim strokes a slow, hard circle with his tongue, a
really *suggestive* circle, and Kon feels himself
flush.

And Bart's still trying to get free, but he's just
making his suit flap on his chest, fast and
maddening, and Kon grabs the ripped edges and
*yanks*, pulling them down over Bart's arms, and
Tim grabs Kon's shirt in both hands and thrusts
hard against his ass.

"Kon," Bart says.

"Kon," Tim says, in an entirely different way.

"*Fuck*." He has to... just stay a *little* in control
here, and never mind Tim's hands on him, *Tim's*
hands, and maybe if he hadn't tried to restrain
Tim in the first place things would've been
different, and maybe Bart wouldn't be sitting here
in front of him, trussed up and half-naked and
one vibration away from *shock*, and maybe Tim
will just keep grinding against his ass, just like
this, like he can't stop, and Bart's eyes slip
closed, far enough that the orange is just a little
half-moon edge under the fringe of his lashes,
and Kon lets go of the edges of Bart's suit.

And rubs his nipples.

Not like Tim, because he doesn't think Tim had
done it this hard.

And Bart says "Kon" again, but it sounds like a
moan. And he arches forward, and Kon pinches,
just a little, and Bart bites his lip.

They aren't swollen anymore, and he didn't even
notice them *healing*.

Tim growls against the back of Kon's neck and
yanks Kon's t-shirt up and he can't *think* about
that, because Bart says,

"*Oh*,"

And --

"*Please* --"

And Kon has to pull him back in, has to crush
Tim's hands against his stomach with Bart's body
and bite Bart's neck, and Bart vibrates *again*
and Kon can't --

He pulls Bart in even harder, holding him against
his dick, and Bart vibrates even harder and Kon
hears another growl and realizes its his own.

"Like this?" Tim whispering in his ear, and
managing to sound honestly curious even though
he's doing a really good job of working his fingers
down under the waistband of Kon's jeans. Even
*now*.

"No," Kon says, and sucks a kiss onto Bart's neck
and slides his hands down to Bart's hips and
*makes* him thrust.

"Oh *God*, Kon, I can't -- I have to --"

Kon *rips* the pants of the Kid Flash suit open
and pushes down Bart's briefs and moans, because
his ass is tight and hard and round and just...
just...

"*Kon* --"

And Bart squeezes Kon's shoulders and shakes so
hard Kon's groans comes out like something out of
a really *fucked*-up cartoon, and comes all over
Kon's stomach.

"Ah -- *ah* -- n-no --"

Kon pulls away from Bart's throat and looks down
and... Tim has Bart's dick in *his* hand. And he's
*squeezing*.

"Tim. Tim don't -- *oh* --"

And Kon thinks Bart's squeezing his shoulders hard
enough to *hurt* a normal person, and he knows
he should bat Tim's hand away, but he can't take
*his* hands off Bart's ass.

"Shh," he says, instead, and Bart looks *really*
shocky now, face flushed and mouth hanging open.
"It's okay," he lies, and strokes Bart's ass in what
he hopes is a remotely soothing way.

"*Kon*," Bart says, and it's a whimpering moan.

"He won't hurt you. He just -- *fuck* --"

Tim *bites* the back of Kon's neck and Kon
shudders and forces his eyes to stay open.

"He just wants to touch you." Fuck you. Hold you
down -- "You feel so good." That isn't a lie at *all*.
Bart's got that speedster heat and smooth skin and
Kon squeezes his ass again and bites his lip.

Bart breathes and swallows and nods and vibrates.

"You should. You should lay down again."

Bart pants and jerks in Kon's arms, and Kon looks
down to see Tim rubbing his thumb over the head
of Bart's dick, over and over.

"If... if you lay down..." Then only I get to touch
you.

Bart squeezes his eyes shut and thrusts into Tim's
fist. Once. Twice. Kon squeezes Bart's ass *hard*.

"Bart --"

"It hurts. When I'm on my back. The... this zip-
strip --"

Pulls his shoulders out of joint. *Fuck* you, Tim,
and thank you. Kon licks his lips. "It'll be easier on
your stomach."

Bart nods shakily and Kon takes one hand off his
ass and wraps it around Tim's wrist. And squeezes.

Tim growls against his neck again, but lets go, and
Bart's dick bobs and spits pre-come and Kon thinks
about doing it anyway. Laying Bart down on his
back and just *swallowing*, but...

He breathes and turns Bart around with his free
hand and the TK, and lays him down as gently as he
can.

And watches him *writhe* against the cold floor,
Tim's pulse beating and beating against his thumb
in a way that has to be too fast for a human. "Tim.
His ankles."

"He'll get *away*."

Kon winces and drags Tim's hand down over the
bulge in his own jeans. "No he won't."

Tim gasps and clutches him and pushes his forehead
against the back of Kon's neck. "I need. I need --"

"I know, Tim. It's okay."

And he pushes Tim's hand away with pure force of
*will* and bends over Bart. Unties his ankles and
reaches up for Bart's hips and pulls him up until he's
balanced on his knees and his cheek. His wrists are
crossed and tied at the base of his spine and he
looks....

"Bart..."

"Nnn..."

"Is this... better?"

Bart pants. "I feel... I feel..."

Exposed? Used? Kon strokes Bart's arms, rubbing
the tension out of them, rubbing blood into the
half-healed and healing welts on his wrists. And
then just rubbing him, all over, pulling at the
shreds of the suit and stroking him everywhere he
can reach. "You feel good, Bart," he says again,
and Bart pushes into his hands, writhing.

Kon brings his hand back to Bart's ass, and his dick
is *throbbing*; he's so hard he *hurts*, and he's
still wearing his jeans, and he's going to *keep*
them on because otherwise he'll fuck Bart right
here, on the floor.

"I'm gonna spread you now."

Bart nods, sweaty skin squeaking a little against
the tile, and Kon does it.

Bart's hole is *small*. Small and pink and Kon can't
look away. And... he can feel Tim moving. He looks
over his shoulder, but Tim's already in front of him,
fully *dressed* still, but moving toward Bart's head.

"Tim --"

Bart gasps and struggles and -- stops.

And Kon realizes that he's got his fingers splayed
over Bart's hips. Holding him open with his thumbs
and holding him *still* and he can't stop that, either.
"It's..."

Okay, he was going to say, but he really just
*can't*. He watches Tim instead. And Tim...

Kneels down in front of Bart and lifts Bart's head.
Gently. And rests it on his own thigh.

And pets Bart's hair and *looks* at Kon. Kon looks
right back, because Tim *isn't* fully dressed. He put
the lenses on his mask up, and his pupils are
*blown*. And Bart's moan is muffled.

By Tim's *thigh*. And Tim pets him... harder. Really
just... pushing his fingers through Bart's hair and
down over his shoulders and back up to the back of
Bart's head and pushing *down*.

"Don't."

Tim doesn't gasp. It's more like a single, short
*pant*. And he eases up on the pressure on Bart's
head and Bart moans again and it feels... Kon
doesn't want to know what he's thinking. He doesn't
want to know what *any* of them are thinking,
including himself.

He leans in and licks Bart, instead. Slow and hard
and right up the cleft and he doesn't need to hear
Bart's muffled scream to know no one else had
done this before. Bart's told him about every kiss,
and practically every hug that may or may not
have lasted too long.

He licks him again and doesn't think about any of
that, and squeezes Bart's hips a little harder when
he starts to shake. It doesn't feel like teasing to
flick his tongue around the edges of Bart's tight
little hole. It feels like taking it slow, or being
gentle or something, and Bart yells and shakes
and Kon thinks about the first time someone did
this to him.

She'd been strong enough to hold him down. Just
like this.

She'd held him down and made him scream. Just
like this.

Kon shoves his tongue in hard and hears the wet
*slap* of Bart's come hitting the floor and goes
back to... being gentle.

Looks up and... Tim hasn't stopped staring at him.
Maybe not even once. But now he's petting Bart's
mouth and... shoving his fingers in.

Kon groans against Bart's hole and Bart whimpers
and shudders and *sucks* Tim's fingers and Tim
spasms, once, and starts fucking Bart's mouth.
And Bart rocks between them and whimpers, again
and again, and Kon realizes he's matching Tim's
rhythm.

Or Tim's matching his.

He squeezes his eyes shut and kneels up and
works his pants open and groans just because he
can *breathe*, at *last*. And Bart's ass is right
*there* and his own dick is slick all *over* with
pre-come and Tim is looking at him.

His fingers are still in Bart's mouth.

Fingers. He can... Kon brings his hand to his mouth
and he can smell Bart's sweat and he licks it off
and watches Tim's eyes narrow. Watches Tim fuck
Bart's mouth *slower*. He can... do this.

He slides one wet finger down Bart's cleft and Tim
holds Bart's shoulder with his free hand and Kon
pushes *in*, and Bart *whines* and Tim squeezes
Bart's shoulder and Kon twists inside him just a
little, Kon grabs his dick with his other hand and
*grunts*, and Tim bites his own lip and Bart shakes
and Kon strokes --

Strokes --

"You're so fucking *tight*, Bart --"

And Tim shoves his fingers *all* the way into
Bart's mouth and Kon squeezes his dick and shoves
*his* finger in all the way and every sound Bart
makes is choked and *needy* and Kon strokes
and Bart *spasms* around him --

"*Fuck* --"

Kon comes all over Bart's ass and his own *fist* and
Tim makes a sharp, low sound and when Kon can
focus... Bart's *biting* Tim's fingers.

Hard.

Kon pulls out, as slow as he can, and strokes Bart's
sweaty back with his sticky, dirty hands.

He can feel himself shaking.

"Bart," he says. "It's *Tim's* turn now."

Bart growls, and it's a flat, scary and really kind of
*crazy* sound, but he takes his teeth out of Tim's
fingers.

And Tim doesn't say a word when Kon undoes the
zip-strip around Bart's wrists, just kneels there and
pants. Once. Silence. Again. Silence.

Bart jerks upright, out of Tim's lap, sways, and slaps
Kon's hands *away* when he tries to steady him,
and okay, that's fine, too.

And then Bart's gone.

And back.

And gone again and back again and vibrating his
arms until they're just a pink blur with a yellow edge
where the scraps of his uniform hang. Kon watches
him and feels Tim watching *him*, and then Tim
reaches for --

He doesn't know *what* Tim's reaching for,
because Bart has Tim's arms yanked up and a little
back.

Tim's eyes flutter closed.

Tim's tights are wet. And he's still *obviously* hard.

"Bart. We have --" He checks. He doesn't *think*
Tim can do anything in that position. But... he
reaches out with his TK. He *tries* to reach out
with his TK and hits an invisible brick wall because
he can *fake* control, but in the end, his dick is
hanging out of his jeans and Bart couldn't be more
naked if he wasn't wearing the fucking shreds of his
suit, and Tim's rock hard.

He swallows and tries again.

"There's... we have to get him to the bed. Strapped
in." Tim shudders. "There are doctors --" Tim
*fights*, but Bart holds onto him hard and pushes
a knee into Tim's back and yanks his arms up
*higher*.

"No," Tim says.

"*No*," Bart says. And Bart's talking to *him*.

"Bart --"

Bart shakes so hard it goes right into Tim, and Tim
*jerks* his hips.

And then Bart glares at him. "It's *his* turn."

Kon blinks.

Tim moans, long and low.

Bart glares.

Kon blinks some more and nods. He... no. He's not
even going to pretend to *himself* that he can
understand. He crawls the few feet to where Tim is
kneeling and cups him through the tights. Wet.

Still warm.

He looks up and Tim's pupils are still blown behind
the mask. He looks up further and Bart is biting his
lip and darting back and forth between looking
down at Tim's head and looking at him.

"Bart."

"Yeah."

Tim pushes into Kon's hand. Once. If he hadn't been
here, on this *floor*, for so fucking long, he'd think
Tim had it under control. "Bart... what do you want
to do?"

Tim groans quietly and Bart's groan covers it
completely. He shakes, and his knuckles go white
around Tim's wrists. "I -- I don't *know*! I
don't --"

"Okay. It's..." Kon swallows, and squeezes Tim's
dick *hard*, just as if it's *only* his fault.

He can feel Tim looking at him, and focuses on Bart.
"Pull... pull him back. Lay him down."

"He'll... he could --"

"He won't."

Tim shudders and *flexes* -- once. Kon reaches for
his collar.

"Tell me how to get this off, Tim. All of it."

"Please --"

"Tell me."

Tim's dick twitches under Kon's palm and he squeezes
it hard.

"Tim --"

"Snaps. Fold under... you have to put your fingers
under."

Kon does, and it's a tight fit. It would probably be a
tight fit for *Tim's* fingers. He can feel Tim swallow
against his knuckles, and Kon squeezes him again
with his other hand, just because he can. And fumbles
and fumbles and Tim's skin is feverish and damp and
fumbles and -- there.

The cape falls off, faster than anything made of fabric
should. This isn't a surprise.

He's seen Tim take the tunic off before and reaches
for --

"Don't --"

"Tim..."

"No. It's... you have to. Disarm it."

Kon blinks. Swallows. "How."

And he can't read an expression in Tim's eyes, but he
doesn't think it's because Tim's hiding anything. His
eyes are *black* right now, with only the thinnest
circle of blue around the edges.

Kon rides him a little through the tights, slow and
hard because he *has* to, and Tim squeezes his
eyes shut and turns his face against his own arm.
"Tell me, Tim."

"The belt. Button on the right -- your right -- disarms
it. Then you take it off -- snap on the inside left."

Kon looks for it -- carefully. It's almost disappointing
when the belt just falls off into his hand. And then it
just isn't, because something about the lack... with
just the red and the green and the only yellow being
Tim's little 'R...'

He narrows his eyes and breathes, and breathes,
and completely fails to get control. "Pull him back
now, Bart -- yeah. Stop there."

It's easy to forget how *strong* Bart is, but he can
carry someone twice his size for hundreds of miles
without getting *winded*.

And he can hold Tim half off the floor, just like this,
while Kon pulls his legs off straight and yanks off
Tim's boots -- they feel *full* even when they're
off -- and tug off the socks and stroke his way up
those long, lean legs, over the smoothness of the
tights, and he *means* to take them off, but when
he gets his fingers curled under the waistbands of
the shorts and the tights...

He has to just lean in, because he can *smell* Tim.
Sex and come and sweat and he nuzzles against the
bulge in Tim's shorts -- he had to have gotten rid of
that armored jock somewhere along the way,
because it's *just* him under there. He's *naked*
under there, and Kon opens his mouth and sucks.

"Ohhh." That's Bart.

Tim just gasps, toneless and harsh, like a stiff wind
through a ripped paper curtain or something, and
he tastes salty and *sweet*, and Kon can feel him
*moving*, but he's not fighting.

Or if he is, it's just not enough to make Bart let
*go*. Kon slips his hands out from under the
waistbands and Tim cries out, short and sharp.

And his ass feels just as good as Bart's. Muscular
and round and filling Kon's palms so perfectly he
has to pull Tim *in*, crush Tim's crotch against his
face, and he can feel himself *drooling* and he
groans and Tim thrusts against him. Or tries to.
Kon's holding him too close.

He's going to need air soon, but... *Tim*.

Walking around like he'd never had a hard-on in
his fucking life, like he never saw Kon watching
him in the showers, or in the gym. Like he never
wanted it *just* this badly, and Kon growls and
digs his fingers into the meat of Tim's ass and he
can't *taste* him anymore.

He pulls back and forces himself to let go, wiping
his mouth with the back of one hand, and Tim's
hips are still driving up and *up*, even though Kon's
face isn't there.

"The tunic. Tell me --"

"Button beneath the first, slight diagonal -- there.
Please. Please don't stop --"

Kon slides his hands up Tim's lean side and works on
the catches, one by one, and the tunic cracks open
like a little red shell. *Exactly* like one, because
Tim's even *hotter* under there, so hot the t-shirt
is sticking to his skin in places.

Kon rubs and tugs at it and tugs it *up* and Tim's
nipples are tiny, hard spikes against his palms. He
twists them, just as hard as he did Bart's, and Tim
arches and groans. "*Please* --"

"Keep begging. Keep --"

"Please," Tim says. "Please don't stop. Please touch
me. I can't. I need -- I don't know what's going
*on* --"

Kon feels his face twist, strange and *ugly*, and
he can't listen to Tim anymore. He leans in and
kisses him instead, rocking him back against Bart,
and Bart...

Is behind Tim. On his knees, and Tim's arms are
still pulled back, but now they're *down*, and Kon
pulls out of the kiss and Tim pants against his face
and Bart makes a high, strangled noise and --

Tim's shoulders are working. He's... he's
*touching* Bart, somewhere between them where
Kon can't *see*.

Kon grabs Tim's chin and tilts his face up, and
there's nothing like clarity in Tim's eyes. Nothing
there but hunger and confusion and *need*.

Greed.

His mouth is wet and slack and red.

Kon yanks one of his arms forward again, away
from Bart, and Bart whimpers and shakes, shakes
 Tim right up *against* Kon, but he's *working*.

He pulls back and tugs the tunic off over Tim's arm,
and pulls the t-shirt up. He has to yank Tim's
*other* hand away from Bart to do it, but Bart
grunts and buries his face in Tim's throat and sucks
and Tim tilts his head to give Bart better access and
reaches for Kon.

Kon grabs Tim's wrists and hauls them back up over
his head, where they belong. And then pulls harder,
until Tim's kneeling *up*, and his dick is a thick,
obvious outline through the rumpled, wet tights.

"Bart, pull his pants down for me."

Bart's hands shake as they come around Tim's
waist, but he doesn't hesitate, pulling everything
down to Tim's knees. It's. He's...

Tim's dick is sticky with come and dark with
blood, the darkest spot on his whole pale body,
and Kon bites the inside of his lip and cups Tim's
balls with his free hand. Bart wraps one shaky
hand around Tim's dick and the other arm around
Tim's chest and holds on and shakes *more*.

Vibrates.

"Ah --" Tim shakes his head and jerks. "I -- I --
oh God, *please* --"

Kon gives Tim's sac a squeeze and then pushes
behind until he finds that hard spot, that spot
that makes Tim scream like someone who doesn't
have any air to breathe, grunting and low.

He watches Bart squeeze him, watches Bart shake
them *both*, and he doesn't know if it's the
vibrations that make him rough or just the *vibe*,
but when he pushes a finger into Tim's ass, he
*knows* it's too hard.

Tim shouts and struggles and *flexes* around him
and it just makes Kon *need* it more.

He shoves in deeper, and Tim grunts through his
teeth and Bart says,

"*Oh*," and *looks* at Kon, and he looks just as
confused and lost as Kon feels. He nudges past
Tim's cheek and kisses Bart, soft as he can, and
then he just lets Bart kiss him, because Bart needs
it faster than he can give.

Tim humps and bucks between them, and Kon
twists his finger inside Tim and *needs*.

Lets go of Tim's wrists long enough to lift up his
own shirt so that Bart can push Tim's dick against
his stomach on every thrust, and groans when he
reaches back up and Tim's wrists are still right
*there*.

And Bart sucks his tongue and hums and every
upstroke on Tim's dick is this sweet little *tease*
of Bart's knuckles, and Kon fucks Tim as best he
can.

And Tim whimpers and comes between them, hot
and wet all over them both.

It's not enough.

It's not *enough*.

Kon stands up, hauling Tim with him. Bart's on his
knees, hard and... he wants to fuck *both* of
them. Right now. He closes his eyes and breathes
and tries to get *control*, but when he opens
them Tim's feet are still dangling a few inches off
the floor, and Bart is *still* on his knees. And
staring at Kon with wild, orange-eyed *focus*.

Tim isn't staring at anything at all.

The beds are... there.

He carries Tim over and sets Tim down on his feet
again and bends him over. Tim clutches the far side
of the mattress and just... stays there.

"Spread... spread your legs for me, Tim."

He does, and Kon groans and grabs his own dick
and *squeezes*. A rush of air and Bart's right next
to him. Still more naked than not, and *hard*. And
reaching for Tim's ass and cupping it and
squeezing. "Kon... what you did. To me."

Kon licks his lips. "Yeah. I --"

"I want... I want to see..." Bart spreads Tim's
cheeks and Kon stares helplessly at Tim's spasming
hole.

"Tim... you want this. Say you want him to lick
you."

Tim groans and pushes up against Bart's hands.

"Say it."

"Do it -- do me -- I --"

Kon bites his lip and presses his thumb against
Tim's hole. "You want it."

"Oh *God*, Kon --"

He shoves his thumb in. "It's wearing off, isn't it.
The... the fucking *pollen*."

Tim gasps. "Yes."

Kon fucks Tim with his thumb, slow and hard.
"It's too late. Say you want it anyway. Say it." Bart
shakes next to him.

"I want it. I want all of it. I want you so *bad* --"

Kon pulls out and can't tell which of them is
whimpering. And walks around to the other side of
the bed, and Tim's eyes are squeezed shut and his
face is sweaty and flushed and his lip is bleeding,
either from the fucking batarang or all the *biting*.
It's so easy to forget that Tim's human, except that
he doesn't think he ever will anymore.

It just makes it sexier.

And Bart's panting hard and almost too fast to
*hear* again, and Kon wraps one hand around the
base of his dick and slides the fingers of the other
into Tim's hair and yanks his head *up*. "Bart," he
says. "Do it."

And he watches Tim's face. *Just* his face, the
blur of motion behind Tim completely unimportant
until it makes Tim's eyes fly open in a wide,
*anguished* blue. Until it makes Tim open his wet,
red mouth to gasp.

And Kon can push his dick right *in*.

Tim makes a high, muffled sound around him, and
it's as good as the *wet* sounds Bart's making, as
the *slick* sounds his dick is making as he fucks
Tim's pretty mouth, and Kon never knew he could
*want* it like this.

But he does.

So hard. So -- he shouldn't. He wouldn't have
ever --

He can't stop *taking* it, one short, ragged thrust
at a time, because that's all he can manage,
because Tim rolls his eyes back up in his head
and groans and the spit sliding down his chin is
tinged with pink -- *blood* -- and Bart's humming
and Tim's *whimpering* , and Kon does his best
not to yank Tim's thick, sweaty hair out by the
roots and that's *all* he can do.

Because Tim's mouth is hot, and *wet*, and Tim's
not even *trying* to hold on to Kon's hips. He's
holding on to the edge of the bed and -- Kon looks
up. He's working his ass back on Bart's *face* and
he's *sucking* Kon, inexpert and messy and
*hard*, and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

Right up until Bart disappears. And reappears, and
grabs Tim's hips and --

Tim *screams* around Kon's dick, and his
knuckles are *white* and Kon feels his own
stomach *roll*, and he's still so fucking *hard* --

"Oh, *fuck*, Bart --"

"Have to. He -- he's so *hot* inside and I -- oh --
*oh* --"

And Kon doesn't know what to *look* at. Bart's
head thrown back or Tim's lips stretched around
his dick, or Tim's eyes rolling back in his head or
Bart's fingers digging in to Tim's hips or --

"Fuck... fuck, *suck* me, Tim --"

Tim whines and chokes and groans and shakes
and *swallows* Kon, all the way *in*, and Kon
knows *his* eyes are wide, but the only thing he
can think is "tight. So fucking --"

And Bart screams and Tim swallows *again* and
Kon comes right down Tim's *throat*, too
shocked to do more than gasp.

He watches Bart stagger back, and Tim coughs
and moans around him and Kon pulls out and
grabs Tim's wrists again, lifting him and moving
him until he's flat on the back. *On* the bed.

He's hard. Bart's whimpering and Tim's *hard*
and Kon wraps his fist around the base of Tim's
dick and sucks him in. Sucks him fast and hard
and tries not to hear Bart panting, tries not to
hear Tim fucking *sobbing*, tries to be nothing
but his mouth, and the taste of Tim on his
tongue.

It's better when Tim comes. Because...

Kon pulls off before Tim can start hurting. Before he
can start hurting *more*, and then he...

Looks around.

The med-lab is trashed.

Bart's hugging his knees and staring at the floor.

Tim looks like... like someone who got bent over a
bed and used from both sides.

And Kon's dick is still hanging out of his pants, slick
with spit and come.

And Kon has no *fucking* clue what to do.

"Bart. Get... we need..." Help. A lot of help. Right
now. "We --"

Kon drops into a crouch next to the bed and waits
for the world to start making sense again.

And licks his own teeth.

*

It's Tuesday night, and Kon's on the roof of the
barn.

The air smells like growing things, and horse shit,
and good, clean country living. He hasn't felt clean
in days. For the first time in known memory, he'd
*really* rather be in Clark's old bedroom, studying
Algebra.

But Bart had called him, and told him to be *here*,
and... he's here.

He's definitely here.

The aftermath... had been exactly as messy as it
should've been. Vic found them all in the med-lab
when none of them answered their communicators.
Vic marched them into the showers and Bart didn't
make *one* comment about rust and Tim didn't
say a damned thing.

And then Kory had come back and spent about
thirty seconds bitching about her garden before
she *looked* at them. And then she started
apologizing, and talking about 'unpredictable
effects on humans' and how she'd forgotten, and
that was even worse.

Because suddenly they all had to *deal*, and Tim
had on his spare uniform even though Tim
couldn't fucking stand *up* without using a *wall*
and... shit. Shit.

*Shit*.

Cassie came out and pretended *nothing*
happened, right up until she realized they all knew.
Or maybe she just realized she was standing
*next* to Tim while she was pretending and...
*shit*.

They'd all gone home. Or he had.

He has no fucking clue about the rest of them.

He doesn't think he wants to.

Bart's wake rocks him sideways, and Kon uses his
feet to brace himself so he doesn't have to move
his hands.

It's really fucking amazing the things you can get
used to.

"Hey," Bart says.

"Hey."

"Cassie's okay. She's spending a lot of time with
Kory. I don't know if her Mom knows how much she's
just... not home, though."

"That's... okay."

"Vic says Gar's just really, really surprised. And then
he said something about Nightwing that I didn't
catch. What's --"

"Bart."

"Yeah?"

Kon looks at his boots. "How are you?"

"You. I did. A lot of reading."

Kon looks at him. A little. Almost. "Did it help?"

"No. Yes. No. I already *knew* I was... really screwed
up about this." Bart stares down at the roof. There
isn't a mark on him anymore.

There never was on *him*. "Yeah," Kon says.

"Tim's still in the infirmary."

Kon sucks in a breath. "Jesus. Is he --"

"Bruises. Dehydration. He. He'll be okay."

"No he won't."

"No." Bart squeezes his hands into one tangled fist
between his knees. "He's. Um. Not talking. Cassie
says he called Batman, and... and his Dad. And
that's it." Bart's hands work together in a way
that's too fast to really see but still looks painful.
"He's not talking," he says again.

"You... you went to see him."

"Well, *yeah*." Bart glares at him for a moment.
And then stares back at the roof. "I think
subjective time is making a difference."

Kon snorts so hard it hurts, deep in his chest. "Ya
*think*?"

"Kon --"

"Why are you here, man?"

"Because it's all screwed up and I want it not to be."

"I..." Kon sighs. "That's fair."

"I mean. We... if we... it shouldn't be so bad. That
we all had sex."

Kon sucks in a breath. "We didn't just have *sex*,
Bart."

"I *know* that! You're not looking at me and I
still can't look at *you* and Tim's staring at the
ceiling back in San *Francisco*. I fucking *know*
that, okay?"

Kon winces.

Listens to Bart breathe too fast and doesn't fucking
*think*.

"Okay," he says.

Gradually, Bart's breathing slows down. A little.

"It was funny. At first. I mean, it was freaky, but...
Tim beat the *shit* out of me because I tried to
hold onto him until he calmed *down*, and then
I wake up and get back to the Tower and Gar's
wandering around looking like the end of a three
day orgy and Cassie's doing a really good job
holding Tim back with the lasso until Tim *grins*
at her and turns on the freaking charm and then
she's chasing *me* out of the room. And then..."

"Me."

"Yeah."

"That wasn't... that wasn't funny."

Kon swallows around the lump of feeling in his
throat. "I figured that." After a while.

Bart shifts beside him. "But you *fixed* it."

"I made it *worse*."

"That, too. And then I did."

"Bart --"

"We fucked up, Kon. Bad."

Kon sighs. "Yeah. We did."

"It's supposed to get better when you do that. When
you... acknowledge the mistakes and get rid of the
blame and... stuff."

Kon stares up at the sky. There are too many stars
out here. There always are. "I think there's more to
it than that."

"Yeah." Bart drums his fingers onto the roof.

If Kon listens closely, he can hear old dust and bits
of rotting wood falling to the ground inside the
barn.

"But... *we're* still friends. Right?"

"Yeah. Always."

"Even though we can't look at each other."

Kon frowns. "I think that part gets better. Like
maybe one day we just *will* and... then everything
falls into place."

"You got that from a movie."

"Yeah, I really did."

Bart snickers. "Was it a good movie?"

"Not even remotely."

Bart laughs way too much, but he *laughs*, and it
makes Kon breathe a little easier. He turns his head
and looks.

And keeps looking until Bart looks back. And
swallows. In the Kid Flash uniform, Bart's eyes are
bare and vulnerable all the time. Freaky, big, pretty
eyes, and he knows what they look like when... He
knows that now.

Bart breathes. "It's not better."

"No."

"We should go not be better with Tim."

Kon's heart pounds and pounds and hurts. "Does he
even want us there?"

"Did you want me *here*?"

"I --" Kon snorts. Stands up and brushes at the back
of his jeans. "Let's hit it."

It's not like the Kents aren't *used* to him being
mopey and uncommunicative and then disappearing.

He takes off into the sky, and follows Bart's streak.

*

Tim's sitting up in bed in the med-lab -- the *other*
med-lab, the one that was only half-built and meant
for overflow.

He doesn't look up when they come in for a beat,
and then he *does*.

He's in uniform, everything but the cape. The boots
are beside the bed.

He looks like someone punched him in the mouth.

He looks like *Kon* punched him in the mouth. And
then he looks even worse, because his face twists
in on itself and he looks down at his book again.

"Um," Kon says at the same time Bart says,

"Hi, Tim."

Tim doesn't flinch, or curl in on himself, or anything
else. He just looks like he wants to. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, us, too. Um." Bart's shifting from foot to foot,
and Kon puts a hand on his shoulder before he can
think about it.

And forces himself to leave it there. "What he said."

Tim's silent for a long moment, and then he looks
up slowly. "Why."

"Uh... 'cause we completely failed to deal with you
going *psycho*? Jesus, Tim. We're supposed to
know how to deal with that stuff. All of us."

Bart twists out from under his hand and zips over to
the side of the bed. And then the other side of the
bed, and the foot, and back again.

Tim shifts just enough to keep Bart from getting an
easy view. Kon can tell. Tim's been doing that... for
fucking ever. "Tim --"

"You're blaming yourself." Bart looks back at him.
"He blames himself. He totally blames himself for
everything." Bart zips around the bed again until
he can get a better look at Tim's face. "Why are
you blaming *yourself*?"

Kon takes a step further into the room. "Tim --"

"I lost control." Tim's jaw works, and it *has* to
hurt, but it just *keeps* working. "Please leave.
Now."

Kon winces. Tim really *doesn't* want --

Bart stops moving. "*What*?"

"Leave."

Bart grabs Tim's shoulder and Tim hisses and Bart
yanks his hand back. "Sorry. But... are you
*insane*?"

Kon winces *again*. "Bart --"

"Tim, *you* were the one who was all... all
messed up!"

Tim's jaw is working again.

"Tim --"

"Bart, I'm sorry, but you need to leave me alone
now." Work, work, *work*, and Kon *can't* deal.

He crosses to the bed and cups Tim's jaw as
carefully as he can and waits for Tim to grab his
wrist or pull a Kryptonite baseball bat out of
somewhere, but he doesn't. He just... looks at
Kon.

And Kon can't tell what his eyes look like with the
lenses up, but his memory gives him a *lot* of
choices and all of them are either terrible or much
too good. He swallows and tries a smile.

He knows exactly how sickly he looks.

"Kon. What are you --"

"I'm sorry, man, but... you keep grinding your
*jaw*, and it looks painful as hell and I really can't
deal."

"You -- can't deal."

"Uh... yeah?"

Bart zips in under Kon's arm. "Tim --"

Tim puts up a hand, the same way he's been doing
since before they were Young Justice.

Bart stops.

Tim... breathes, and his jaw shifts under Kon's palm
and Kon does *not* tighten his hold.

And Tim narrows his eyes at him through the mask.
"You can't deal. With me being in pain. From
what -- you -- you *did* it, Kon!"

Bart snorts. "Yeah. He did."

Tim blinks. "I --"

"How's your... um." Bart waves a hand.

Tim flushes so hard and fast that Kon wonders if
sixteen year old humans can have heart attacks
and *die*, but then Tim *yanks* his head away
from Kon's hand. Kon shoves it back in his
pocket.

"Uh... Tim," he tries.

A muscle in Tim's cheek twitches and Bart *laughs*.

"We messed up his brood." He's grinning at Kon.
"We messed it up BAD."

Kon blinks. Thinks about it. And... "Heh. We totally
did. Blame me some more, man. Do you know how
much of your *hair* I had in my hand?"

Bart snickers and rocks on heels. "Bet you clogged
the showers."

"And those bruises -- Tim, your wrists must be
*so* fucked up right now."

"His *hips* --"

"Shut up!" Tim glares at them both.

Kon shuts up.

So does Bart, but he doesn't stop rocking on his
heels.

"Just... just..." And Tim's breathing *hard*. "I
don't -- I don't know how to *deal* with this."

"And you thought sitting in here alone and hating
yourself was a *good* plan?"

Tim's face twists again and Kon puts a hand on
Bart's shoulder.

"Tim... man, *none* of us know how to deal with
this. I don't think there's a *way* to deal with
this."

"I." Tim scowls at the sheets for a long moment
before looking up again. "Then... how?"

Kon shrugs. "I was planning on faking it."

"Me, too," Bart says.

"Tim... I mean... Bart's right. He was right, when
we were talking before. We... this shouldn't fuck
us up. I mean... it shouldn't fuck *us* up. Who
we are. Or something. You know?"

"No," Tim says, and his face would be blank if you
didn't know him. "I don't know."

"Well... okay then. So that's settled. None of us
know shit."

Bart nods fervently. "And the sex was really hot."

Kon winces.

Tim *flinches*.

"Er. Subjective time. Right."

Tim snorts, and Kon really, really wants to reach out
and brush his unbruised cheek with his fingers and
really, really works on not doing it. He clenches his
fist in his pocket.

"Tim --"

"You guys... you win. Okay? You win."

"Really?" Bart beams at Tim. "I mean. Cool."

Kon scrubs his free hand back through his hair and
tries not to look as relieved as he feels. But... Tim's
looking at him.

So he lets everything show, instead. He wants... a
lot. "So... Tim. What now?"

Tim's mouth twitches, and his eyes narrow with
what's probably pain. "Now you guys get out, and
let me sleep, and heal, so that I'm healthy enough
to deal when Batman unravels all the lies I had to
tell him and tries to nuke the Tower."

Bart blinks. "That..."

"Sounds like a plan," Kon says, and grabs Bart by
the shoulder again, tugging him towards the door
before Kon can do anything stupid. Er.

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

Kon stops despite himself, but manages not to look
back over his shoulder.

"Will you listen if I say 'no?'"

"No," Kon says, before Bart can. And waits.

"Then... no."

"Hey!"

Kon grins to himself, and shakes his head, and tugs
Bart the rest of the way out the door.

He still has homework to do, and a lot of careful
not-thinking.

Bart smiles at him over his shoulder and zips off.

And maybe some thinking, too.

end.