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Misdirection

by Te

Misdirection
by Te
January 29, 2004

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

Spoilers: Of assorted intensity for Teen Titans #6 and #7.

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. teland@teland.com

*

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 east.

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 black.

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?"

"Sure."

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.

Twice.

"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 I?"

"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 violence."

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

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

"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 noticed.

"So."

"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."

"Kon..."

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 voice.

"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."

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."

"Yeah."

"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 violence."

"It's not random. I was kissing her... protg 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."

"Asshole."

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.

"Kon?"

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 now.

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, man."

"Anytime. You know that."

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

"Hunh?"

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 know."

"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."

"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.

"Tim?"

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 all.

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?"

"No."

"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."

"Um."

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 kiss."

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 again."

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 --

"Hey!"

"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 me."

"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 now?"

"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.

"Kon."

"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.

"Jesus."

"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.

"Damn."

"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 dick."

"He said that?"

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

"Damn."

"Exactly."

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

"One word: Catwoman."

"Harsh."

"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 worried."

"No?"

"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.

end.


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