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Touch and Go

by Te

[Story Headers]

Touch and Go
by Te
February 16, 2004

Disclaimers: Still not mine. Still reasonably okay with that.

Spoilers: Vague ones for Teen Titans #6. Other than that, not so much.

Summary: Dick visits. Tim wigs. Kon stresses.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: I pretty much knew I had to write this while I was still in the middle of "Cherry Lips," though it didn't work out entirely the way I thought it would. Second in what I'm calling the Control series, and there may or may not be a third.

Acknowledgments: To Jack, Livia, and Bas for encouragement, audiencing, and many helpful suggestions. Jack also gave me a title.

Feedback: Vastly appreciated. teland@teland.com

*

Kon kicks out as carefully and gently as he can, pleased that he'd gauged the distance well enough to hit the shaft of the barbell with just his toe. And, okay, that small, creaking noise isn't the best sound he's ever heard, but he's not dealing with his increased strength just now.

Per se.

He concentrates and the barbell lifts with his TK, just the way it's supposed to, only wavering when it's at the limit of his range for the kick itself.

"Nice," Tim says, and Kon grins.

It's not like he couldn't toss the thing through the wall and most of the way across the Bay, but this is about control. And when Tim -- Robin -- compliments you on your control...

"I could suggest some other things you could try..."

"You've got a giant file full of potential exercise programs for all of us, don't you?" Kon increases the stretch as much as he can without losing the concentration he's using for the TK. He gets his foot up another inch. "I mean, besides the one in your head."

"Maybe."

There's a quiet breath and the only-slightly-louder sound of a body hitting the mats behind him. Tim's down from the rings. "Uh, huh. I'm listening." And not thinking too much about how he wishes he could watch Tim and do this at the same time without causing major property damage.

"Aura work. We know you can extend it through solid objects, but how far? And what about gases?"

It's getting harder to keep this up, more because of flexibility than anything else. Which is annoying. "Gases?"

"Yeah, I... hmm. Put the barbell down a second, I'll see if I can show you what I mean."

Kon holds the position just a few seconds longer, just long enough for his down leg to start shaking a little -- he's so going to have to work on this -- and lowers the barbell as gently as he can.

When he turns around, Tim is not-quite-smirking at him just enough for Kon to know the guy knows exactly how much of a relief it was to put it down. Right. He joins him on the mats.

"I'm here."

"Yeah. You're about four feet away from me right now... take a half-step back."

"Done."

"Okay. Now if you were going to lift me from there, you'd extend your TK through the mats, right?"

Kon nods. "Yeah, I'd sort of toss you just enough to get my hands or something on you." A thought he's had... more than once.

"Assuming I let you." Another tiny smirk.

Kon smirks back, tempted to show Tim something. He's working out without the cape today, but his hands are sort-of folded in front of him in a position Kon can mostly recognize. If the cape was on, you wouldn't be able to tell anything about Tim's body beyond the fact that his calves are pretty ripped for a little guy.

The look on Tim's face turns curious for a second, or... it's more about how he -- deliberately -- tilts his head than an actual expression. Tim's version of communicating.

Kon shakes his head and grins to himself. "Nothing, I'm listening."

Slow nod. "Okay, what if you did it without the mats? Without reaching out at all. Or... okay, here's what I'm thinking: that aura surrounds you, like an invisible body-suit or something."

"Which would get me some interesting looks..."

Tim gives him the I-might-be-carrying-Kryptonite look. "Focus."

Kon bites his cheek to keep from grinning. He does, actually, want to hear this.

"You weren't barefoot just now. You touched that barbell with the toe of your boot, and even when you wore a suit that covered more, you still didn't actually need to touch anything you were moving with your skin. So I'm thinking... bodysuits stretch. So does your aura, at least a little bit."

"You're wondering how far it goes."

"Exactly. Because if you can work at a distance, or when you were restrained..."

"You know, me and mental powers... the jokes are pretty endless, man."

Tim gives him the blank-eyed stare that's only a glare because of the tightness around his mouth. "Only if we let them."

And that... was a little serious. Kon blinks. "Okay, don't... move."

Sometimes he thinks Tim could disappear like that, just still himself enough to stop existing on any plane normal (or even abnormal) people did. Control.

It's been a while since he's tried to visualize his own aura, but the image comes back easily, especially since it's not so much an image as the absence of one. A faint sheen of Nothing all around him, just a little heavier than air.

The first attempt to consciously stretch it makes him grit his teeth -- he can feel a large portion of his back a lot more than he could before. He'd moved the aura, leaving himself vulnerable. And it's a trick he'd been working on for... other reasons, reasons where the words 'increased sensitivity' were very, very good words, indeed, but it's annoying.

Because the difficulty isn't the sudden rush of feeling (sunlight, a draft from an open window) so much as in giving it up again.

He shakes his head.

"Maybe if you --"

"Wait."

Tim is silent again, and Kon closes his eyes and readjusts the aura back into its original position. He'd been thinking of it as clothing even before, something that could be taken off or pushed aside.

But... bodysuit. Stretching. The problem is... what would be pulling it out of shape?

Obviously, his own mind, but...

"Damn."

"Yeah?"

"It's like... it's like I'm trying to picture myself standing where you are and pulling."

"Why not picture me pulling it? I mean... uh. Don't say it."

Kon chokes on a laugh. "You owe me."

"Noted."

It's a pretty easy image, actually. Because if anyone could grab a fistful of nothing and yank -- Kon grunts and sways on his feet. That feels --

"Kon, are you -- whoa."

"Success?"

"Uh... maybe? This feels..." Like my skin is trying to leave my body. Like if you fell over you'd take important bits of me with you. "... not so great?"

"Hmm. Maybe we should try with lighter objects."

"Yeah, okay, just let me --"

"There you are."

And Kon can feel Tim trying to turn around. It doesn't hurt so much as... "Don't... um. Don't do that, please. It's just --"

"What are you two doing?" Nightwing, grinning and moving into the room.

"Practicing."

And Kon isn't sure what Tim's trying to do, only that it involves moving, lots of parts of him moving at once, which probably makes sense in terms of muscle groups and stuff like that, but just makes him groan. And fall to his knees.

"Kon!"

He winces in anticipation of Tim reaching out for him, but thankfully he just stills again.

"Maybe you should --"

Kon catches his breath and lets go, feeling his aura snap back into place with a smack which feels audible, even though it isn't.

"Yeah, that."

Kon sits back on his heels. "Lighter objects, yeah."

And Nightwing is smirking at them both just as if he'd walked in on two guys in weird positions making weirder noises. This probably isn't going to help with whatever big brother/little brother freaky vigilante thing Tim has going on with Nightwing back east. "Uh..."

"What are you doing here?"

Tim doesn't sound especially friendly, but Nightwing just smirks a little more and gives Kon a weird little look before turning back to Tim. "I needed to pick up some new equipment from Vic, but then I remembered something..."

"What."

Kon hadn't thought it was possible for Bat-types to smirk like that.

"You left something in... at my place." And Nightwing pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it at Tim.

Tim catches it, of course, but not before it unfolds... into stockings. Fishnet stockings.

"See ya around, kid."

And Nightwing walks out of the gym.

By the time Kon looks back, the stockings may as well not exist, which means they're tucked somewhere in Tim's belt. "Uh."

"It was for a case."

"Yeah, okay, the disguise thing, but... um. Don't you... I mean... were you supposed to be a girl?"

"Something like that." Tim isn't looking at him.

"Okay...?" Kon stands up. "So he's basically just fucking with you."

"... basically."

"You know, the Mystery Boy routine got old about a day and a half after I met you, man." Kon tries a smile to show that he's mostly kidding. "I mean, it's not like you guys are fucking or anything."

Tim doesn't say anything.

"Um." Kon's stomach lurches. "Just to be clear --"

"He isn't my... boyfriend."

Which is... more of a relief than he has any room to deal with, but... "More clear. Would be good."

Tim crosses his arms over his chest.

"I mean, if it's not... prying? Shit."

Tim gives this choked little laugh that's pretty much the opposite of all things cheery and full of humor. "Fuckbuddy. Except that I'm pretty sure I'm going to kill him."

"For... um. Outing you? I mean, you know I don't care, right? I kinda wish you'd told me --"

"There's nothing to tell. He -- Nightwing's just... way too fucking invested in his little jokes."

"You just cursed. Twice. You're... bisexual? And you curse."

"Do I need to give you a moment to sit down?"

Kon winces and backs off a step. "Hey, I didn't mean... I just meant that we're... friends. You can talk to me about things if you. Want to. Um."

There's a muscle working in Tim's jaw.

"Shit, man, help me out here."

And Tim finally, finally looks at him. Or... probably looks at him. It's hard to tell with the mask, especially with everything wiped off his face but a vague tension.

"Tim?"

"I don't know what to say."

Kon scrubs a hand through his hair. "You know... you could start with --"

"Can we not do this now? I mean... not right now."

Kon bites the inside of his lip. "Yeah... sure. Um... see you?"

Tim nods at him once and walks out.

Which is... what?

They've known each other for a couple of years now, but they hadn't really done much toward being friends until recently. It was kind of hard to be friends with a guy who you only knew by his superhero-name, and calling him 'Rob' hadn't really improved things.

And they are friends, but... he isn't really sure what that means to Tim, and his suspicions are more toward 'not all that much' than they are toward anything normal. As opposed to what it means to him.

Which is maybe-probably-definitely closer to 'way too much' than it is to anything... normal.

And thinking about that is just asking for trouble. Even with Tim not actually in the room, because Tim is screwing Nightwing and not him.

It's not like he had a plan or anything involving long, meaningful talks and kissing the life out of Tim on the roof of the Tower or the roof of the Kents' barn or just the sky and... dammit.

Because part of that plan he didn't have was gently and carefully figuring out whether Tim even did that, or wanted to do that, and so the plan hadn't moved very far at all, because, well. Tim opening up? Not so much.

Knowing the guy does swing that way is a lot less comforting than it could be, since Tim's doing all the swinging with Nightwing.

Who is... okay, he can see why Tim would. Nightwing is hot and everything, in almost-but-not-quite the same ways Tim is. Just taller. Not as annoying (and scary) as Batman, and capable of smiling (smirking at him because he must have known), and a stand-up guy in terms of getting the League off their case.

He probably shouldn't want to drop kick him through a wall.

Kon sighs to himself and sits back down on the mat, dragging a handful of change out of his pocket and setting it in front of him. He can at least practice with the aura thing.

And not think about what Tim must've looked like in those fishnets.

Because, really, had he shaved? When had this happened? Was the hair back now? What had --

There's a weird pinging noise and Kon looks up to find... two dimes and a quarter buried in the door. Oops.

Possibly Tim being 'something like' a girl -- and what the hell did that mean? -- and cursing and having sex with Nightwing isn't the only reason why he has a headache.

Kon winces and tries to consciously reach out to get them back. He can see the dime start to wobble, but it could just be his own brain. Wobbling. In his head.

Okay, queasy now, and maybe practicing alone isn't the best idea he's ever had.

It's a painful and really kind of sick thought, but the fact is... he could just go find Tim and make him help some more. Find Robin. Because he may not know Tim (who curses and does things with other guys and occasionally wears fishnets), but he knows Robin well enough to know that nothing short of being actively unconscious would stop him from working to make Kon -- make all of them -- as powerful and efficient as they could be.

Maybe he should just tell him that he needs the hot gay sex in order to function.

Which is an amusing thought right up until he gets the image of Tim putting on his game-face and doing it -- just to help him out. Because it's ridiculous, but it also kind of isn't.

It's one thing to be jealous of Nightwing because he's gotten in Tim's pants, but something else entirely -- and entirely pathetic -- to be jealous because Tim maybe likes him more than he likes Kon.

Fuck.

Kon gets up and walks to the door, deliberately holding on to the coins before tugging them back out. There's nothing he can do here right now without breaking things or giving himself an aneurysm.

He heads for the roof.

And freezes, because Nightwing is there with Changeling, laughing and wrestling while the Batplane idles.

He watches long enough to see a frighteningly large green spider smacking Nightwing in the face with several of its legs and turns around again.

"Oh, hey, Superboy! Have you -- stop that -- seen Robin around?"

He winces, glad he at least had time to look away. "No. I have to --"

Nightwing's hand is on his shoulder before he's halfway through the door. And yes, the entire Batfamily is that good. Dammit.

"Uh, I'm kind of busy --"

"So am I. I won't keep you." Nightwing tugs a little on Kon's shoulder until they're looking at each other.

He's too close to punch effectively. The first time, anyway. "What?"

Nightwing cocks his head at him and frowns. "You aren't... look, I tend to think Robin needs to have his head fucked with as much as possible, but... those stockings were for a case."

"You think I'm pissed at him?"

"Aren't you?"

Kon gives up on looking directly at Nightwing, and tells himself that it's just the usual mask issue.

"You know, he doesn't have anything to say about you that isn't good."

And Nightwing is... trying to put him on a guilt trip for doing whatever he thinks Kon had done to Tim. Kon laughs a little helplessly, watching something green and presumably winged moving up into the sky out of the corner of his vision.

"You are his friend --"

"And you're screwing him."

Nightwing takes a step back. "He actually told you that?"

"Oh, don't even pretend you aren't --"

"No, no, I'm just... wow. I didn't think T-- Robin talked to anyone without serious torture. Hunh."

"What?"

Nightwing... smirks.

"What?"

"Well, I don't know, tough guy. On the one hand, you're so jealous that your brand new heat vision is probably three seconds from making me extra crispy. On the other hand, there's Robin. Who, for reasons of his own, has decided to open up to you. That's just... interesting, don't you think?"

"Look, Robin might put up with you... fucking with him, but I really don't need it. I appreciate what you did with the League, and I'd appreciate it even more if you left me the hell alone."

"Done. But --"

"Fuck off."

"You might consider talking to him."

Kon steps inside and slams the door behind him, wishing he could control his heat vision well enough to weld the thing shut, and then squeezes his eyes shut hard because he can feel it.

It isn't about heat so much as just... potential. Power.

"Fuck."

"Are you okay?"

"Weren't you leaving?"

The door, of course opens, and Nightwing's hands are on him again. "The heat vision, right? You really don't have control over it."

"I didn't burn anything on purpose --"

"I didn't say you did. Though it's not like you're the first person who ever wanted to take Superman down a peg or two. Batman was probably just pissed that he didn't get to do it. This time."

It's almost funny. And he can feel Nightwing's gloved fingers on his eyelids, and they feel different from Tim's gloves, even though Tim has never touched his eyes, and that's probably the stupidest train of thought he's ever had. He grits his teeth. "Look --"

"It's the aura holding it back, right? Not your skin. That's the theory with Superman, anyway. Hmm."

He knows that 'hmm.' It's the 'don't take it personally, but I'm kind of thinking of dissecting you,' that he's sick of from everyone but Tim. Maybe it's a Bat thing. "Um. Do you think you could --"

"Being around me isn't helping you keep it back, I'm guessing."

"Well..."

"Look." And those hands are on his shoulders again. "Or... listen."

"Do I have a choice?"

"I'm... not in your way, okay? Robin -- fuck this, I know you know his name -- Tim is my friend, and he's hot --"

"You know that thing about 'not helping?'"

"I'm just saying. It's not a... romantic relationship."

"Do you have any idea how fucked up it is that you're pretty much trying to fix me up with your... your..."

"Do you have any idea how often people ask me questions that start like that? I try not to think about it."

"Nightwing --" He cuts himself off. He doesn't actually want to say 'I don't want to be your friend,' no matter how true it is.

"Right. It's the aura holding it back, and you control the aura, so... how did you stop it the first time?"

Safer ground. "I'm not sure. I just..."

"Thought about it?"

And Kon thinks classifying that moment of shock and terror as 'thought' is probably pushing it, but... "Pretty much? I was angry, and then I was too... freaked out to be angry."

"Well, I could probably freak you out pretty easily, if I put my mind to it."

"Please don't."

"Heh." Nightwing squeezes Kon's shoulders and slides his hands up behind Kon's neck, digging in with his thumbs.

"Uh --"

"You know, you're kind of hot."

"Jesus, what the fuck?" He steps away and shoves Nightwing back against the door. "What are you --"

"Worked, didn't it?"

And... it did. His eyes are open and nothing is on fire. Except that he's got about three seconds before he's pissed off again. Less if Nightwing keeps smirking like that.

"Here's my thought: you were so busy focusing on how angry you were that you couldn't focus on anything else. Like control."

"Couldn't you have just gone with 'boo?'"

"Maybe next time. I have to bail." And he grins at something -- someone -- over Kon's shoulder. "Right, Boy Wonder?"

"Oh, I think so."

Jesus. Even knowing Tim was back there isn't enough to keep his heart from trying to climb up his throat.

Nightwing winks at him and finally -- fucking finally -- leaves.

Kon closes the door behind him and doesn't bang his head on it more than three or four times.

"Kon --"

"I don't think I like your... friends all that much, Tim."

"Why do you think I have so few of them?"

There's a smile in Tim's voice and it drags one onto Kon's face before he can do anything about it. It isn't a comfortable smile, and he isn't sure how he's supposed to feel about that.

"Kon... do you... can we talk now? Maybe?"

Tim shouldn't ever sound that hesitant. "Like I'm going to say no." And he doesn't so much hear Tim moving closer as feel him. It's not so different from the heat vision thing. Just... way too much potential that he doesn't have any control over.

"I was a jerk before, and I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault that Nightwing felt like playing bait-the-Robin."

The smile is a little easier this time, so he turns around. Tim's got his cape back on, and he's all tucked away like nothing could ever touch him. Like maybe people should think twice before they did. But... "Man, I can't believe you had sex with him."

"As opposed to?"

He takes a breath and hopes the hallway is dim enough that the flush on his face isn't as completely obvious as he knows it is. "I just... he doesn't seem like your... type. And he's what, ten years older?"

"About. And what do you think my 'type' is?"

"I don't know, Tim." He looks down and grins ruefully. "I honestly have no clue."

Tim wraps his hand around one of Kon's wrists and squeezes. "Do you want to know why I had sex with him? I mean... really."

"Uh... yes and no?"

"Because he knows more about me than pretty much anyone who isn't Batman. I mean, yeah, I'm attracted to him, and he's... well. But the main thing is that he's safe."

"That's... kind of harsh." And just like you, he doesn't say.

"Do you care? Because he doesn't. And... it works."

"I'm not... I mean. If you're happy, I am."

Tim shoves his wrist back against the door. "It's not about being happy, Kon. It's not about... some kind of romance."

"Um. I'd kind of like to have one conversation today where I know what's going on."

Tim squeezes, hard enough that it would probably hurt without his aura, and grabs the back of his head.

"Tim --"

And that's all he gets a chance to say before Tim yanks him down into a kiss, hard and insistent, and it's maybe nineteen kinds of wrong except for the way it feels. And Tim's eyes are wide open, focused on his, and impossible to look away from.

Kon gasps when Tim pulls away.

"You don't know me."

"What?"

"You keep saying you want to know more about me, and I know what you're really saying. I know you're attracted to me."

"It's not just --"

"But you don't know me. And I don't think you want to."

"You... Christ, you're trying to protect me. You're trying to scare me off!"

"Kon --"

"Jesus, shut up. I don't get you. I don't get any of you people. Nightwing shows up to out you and then spends, like, a year trying to fix me up with you and then hits on me. You freak out about it, kiss me, and then try to chase me away. You're all insane."

"Well... yeah. That's kind of my point."

"Did you think I didn't know how screwed up you are? It's fucking hard to miss, man."

"Oh. But --"

"I want you anyway. And that's fucked up, but it's the truth. If you want to protect me from something, I suggest you make it the rest of your family, because I can only deal with one of you."

"And you want it to be me."

"Yes, you asshole!"

Tim lets go of his wrist and takes his hand away from the back of Kon's neck. Folds both hands back under his cape. "I think... I need to think about this."

"No, you really don't."

"Kon --"

"Look, man, I don't know what your creepy psycho freak brain will come up with if I leave you alone again. Let's just go back to the part where we're kissing."

"I --"

Kon grabs Tim's arms and moves them until Tim has his back to the door. And holds on, not-at-all-secretly enjoying the feel of Tim's lean, hard biceps under his palms. "I get it. I'm not safe. Fucking make me safe, man, because you're not getting rid of me. I know what you taste like now."

And Tim... it's not like he relaxes. It's more like he stops feeling like something that could explode in very specific and careful kinds of violence at any given moment. Which is... probably the best opening he's going to get.

He leans in and takes a kiss, sucking Tim's mouth against his own and sliding his tongue in. And moans, because he does know what Tim tastes like, and knowing isn't doing anything but making him want more.

He licks Tim's tongue and slides his hands up to Tim's shoulders, up to his face, and Tim lets him tilt his head and kisses back, hands on Kon's waist (thicker, that's the difference, his gloves are thicker) and holding on.

"Jesus," he says, but he doesn't really have words to go after that.

Kon kisses Tim again and presses as close as he can, close enough to feel a little heat through Tim's body armor and he wants this. He sucks Tim's tongue and moves his right hand down, yanking the cape aside and grabbing Tim's ass and pulling him up and in.

Tim makes a high, hot noise into his mouth and he wants to know what Nightwing had done just so he can do it better. He bites Tim's lip instead and grinds them together.

"Oh."

"Fuck, say that again."

Tim laughs. "'Oh?"'

"You know what I mean."

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess I do."

And Kon can hear himself growl and feel himself moving but it's all at a distance. He can't actually register anything but Tim's soft, slick mouth against his cheek and Tim's ass and Tim's dick, hidden behind some kind of freaking groin armor but still obvious. He forces himself to focus enough to hold Tim in place with the TK and reaches between them, cupping Tim through the tights.

And he thinks about where they are, but nobody's getting to them through the roof unless they rip the door off its hinges, and the only one who can make it up the stairs without Kon hearing them coming is just exactly where he wants him.

He tugs at the shorts, and the tights, and the jockeys, just enough to get them out of the way, and the first touch of skin makes him grunt and makes Tim pant a little against his face.

But he doesn't say no.

"You like it that I'm not safe," he says, and it comes out like an accusation.

"That isn't... what I meant. But yeah. Yes. Kon --"

He nudges Tim's head to the side with his face and licks under his ear. Bites.

"Kon --"

Strokes Tim, strokes him hard and tries to make it slow but can't --

"Oh..."

"Fuck, Tim, you're so hot..."

Tim bucks into his fist and then starts thrusting, breathing fast and ragged against Kon's throat.

"I want to suck you, lick you --"

"Oh God --"

"Hold you down and fuck you --"

Tim bites his throat and Kon feels himself shooting pre-come into his shorts, feels himself needing, and strokes harder.

"And then you can do me. I want it --"

And Tim bites him harder, shouting against his skin and coming in his hand.

Kon waits a second and then focuses, moving Tim as gently as he can until he's pressed against the door again. And then he licks his hand. He knows what that tastes like, too, now.

"Kon."

"I meant it. I meant everything I just said. You're a psychotic control freak and you have more issues than I do, and I think you and your fuckbuddy have driven me completely insane, and I want to spend the rest of this weekend making you come."

Tim licks his lips, not quite pushing against the TK-hold Kon has on his upper body. "We have training."

He reaches down and grabs Tim's legs, lifting them up around his hips. "Do you care? Because I don't."

"I... deserved that."

"Yeah, you did."

And Tim's smile is something between lazy and really kind of evil.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Seriously, nothing. I'm just... thinking."

Folded up against a door with his legs twined really nicely and tightly around Kon's waist and the TK keeping him still from the waist up... of course he's thinking. Probably thinking about battle strategy, too. "Uh, huh." He tugs at Tim's collar, trying to figure it out by touch alone because his brain is pretty firmly tied up. "Tell me."

"Pull there -- no... you've got it."

And the cape isn't really going anywhere with the way Kon has Tim pressed to the door, and he can't really get the collar to gap in any porny and interesting way, but... skin. Soft and smooth, except for a really kind of terrifying scar that he's not going to think about. Except for the little humming sound Tim makes when he strokes over it with his thumb.

He's probably going to think about that really kind of a lot.

"What were you thinking?"

"Mm. About what I deserve."

"Oh. Oh, Jesus." It's an effort not to use the TK to just yank Tim back against his body, but --

"Yeah. You know Nightwing had a surprisingly large number of issues about my age, considering."

"Well, come on, he's --"

"Completely easy." And Tim tightens his legs around Kon's waist and pulls.

"Fuck --"

"You've been hard since I kissed you. You know what you want to do to me."

He does. He really does, and he can't stop himself from pushing, from grinding, and he doesn't know whether to be happy that he never managed to actually yank Tim's tights down, or just frustrated. He takes one of his hands off Tim's throat and brings it back down to his ass, squeezing and stroking and mostly just holding him in place.

"Kon..."

"God, I don't want to. Not... not against a fucking door." He buries his face against Tim's neck and wonders if Tim can feel the heat of his face.

Tim whimpers and... it's weird. It's hot, but it's also weird. Because he can feel Tim trying to move, but not really with his body. The aura is holding Tim too still for that, but the aura is also picking up everything.

"Hold still, you're gonna drive me crazy --"

And Tim stops. "You can feel that?"

"All over. God, Tim, it's like you're touching me --"

And his knees buckle, because whatever Tim was trying to do before, he's doing it more now. And holding on tight with his legs and watching him. Kon braces one of his hands next to Tim's head on the door and clutches Tim's ass.

Because he knows it's on purpose.

"Is this what you were feeling before?"

"No... yes. Different when I'm touching you -- please."

"Are you going to come?"

Kon groans and thrusts against Tim's crotch, planting his feet and trying to steady himself. It's like being... fondled. Pinched on his toes and kissed on his ass and licked by something dry and hot and ruthless all over.

"You could let me go."

"Can't."

"Not while I'm moving like this? That's a problem."

And Tim might as well be talking about training. He probably is. "Can't concentrate. I --"

"Don't concentrate. Let me --" And Tim sort of... frowns. Like he's concentrating.

And he is, because the motion is rhythmic now, the same rolling grind as Tim's hips, only this is all over. Surrounding him and working him too hard and not hard enough and Kon's body is screaming at him to let go, but all he can do is gasp and dig his fingers into the door and come in his pants.

"Oh, Kon..."

He manages a whimper.

"Easy. I'm gonna stop now." And Tim unwraps his legs from around Kon's waist and stills.

Kon takes a breath and lets go, snapping back into his own body hard enough to make him moan again. Drops to his knees and pushes his face against Tim's thigh. He can see Tim adjusting himself and tugging everything back into place out of the corner of his eye, and it's just another reason to moan.

Tim strokes his hair once and pushes him back a little before crouching down beside him. "I think I've found a new way to get you to practice with your powers."

"When I can think again I'm pretty much going to have to hurt you."

Tim snickers and cups Kon's face with his hand, brushing over his cheekbone in a way that doesn't feel idle at all, or even especially affectionate.

Kon looks up to find a weirdly speculative expression on Tim's face. "What?"

"Flirting with insults, getting off on your... partner being a freak, sex in inappropriate public places... I'm just thinking you'd look kind of hot with a mask."

"You." He stops. Thinks about it. "You aren't completely joking, are you?"

Tim is smiling, but he also isn't quite facing him. "Scared yet?"

Kon snorts. "Man, I was scared two years ago. I think I was scared in that freaking tube." He runs his thumb down the bridge of Tim's nose, making him jerk. "I'm not going anywhere. Except maybe to change my pants."

"Remind me to introduce you to Dylan."

"Hunh?"

"Nothing." And Tim leans in and kisses him, hard and slow and for a nicely extended period of time before standing up. "Come on."

And Kon is reasonably sure he's supposed to have been distracted from something, but... he can go with it.

He follows Tim down the stairs.

end.

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Fandom:  Batman
Title:  Touch and Go
Series Name:  Control
Author:  Te   [email]   [website]
Details:  Series  |  NC-17  |  *slash*  |  32k  |  02/16/04
Characters:  Superboy, Robin, Nightwing
Pairings:  Suberboy/Robin, Nightwing/Robin
Summary:  Dick visits. Tim wigs. Kon stresses.
Sequel to:  Cherry Lips

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