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clarification of range, A

by Te

[Story Headers]

A clarification of range
by Te
March 16, 2004

Disclaimers: If they were mine, I'd be... busy. But they aren't.

Spoilers: For Young Justice # 52. Takes place during YJ canon, in an AU-ish way.

Summary: Kon's easy. Tim takes advantage.

Ratings Note: NC-17. No, seriously.

Acknowledgments: Much love to Jack, Reilael, and Livia for audiencing and many helpful suggestions.


Boston is one of those cities that should be more interesting than it is. Or... Kon isn't sure. It's an old city, and should have a lot of cool stuff, and it does, it's just... it's hard to walk around without feeling a little uncomfortable. Even the young people look kind of old, and look at him like he's the most annoying excuse for a teenager ever to fall out of tube.

Granted, some of that is due to the amount of property damage Young Justice has caused today -- there's a lot of red brick dust floating around downtown -- but still. Supervillains, damage... these things happened.

And they had saved the day.

You'd think he'd get a few less scowls. Robin probably wouldn't.

Maybe he should've put on jeans or something.

It always feels like a lie, though. Like he's pretending to be someone he isn't. Or... well, it's not like he can't see the usefulness of a disguise, but he wants it to be a disguise, and only for, like, working purposes.

Otherwise... he doesn't really like the idea of people looking at him and just assuming he's trying to be human or something. If someone does smile at him, he wants it to be because they're smiling at him, not at some random -- though attractive -- kid.

Like this guy. He looks a year or two older than... Kon's supposed to be, and really kind of... there's something about the smile. Kon grins back and waves, and keeps walking. Maybe he'll find a club or something. Though in this city he probably won't get in anywhere good.

The guy jogs up beside him and matches his pace. He's got spiky red hair and a scruffy little beard, and he looks at Kon like he's... not amused, but something. Kon blinks, and takes a closer look.

The guy keeps smiling that weird little smile, and looks Kon up and down. Slow.


Kon changes his grin to something a little more personal. "Hey," he says, and takes one hand out of his jacket pocket. "I'm --"

"Superboy. I know. You can call me Adam." Adam's grip is strong and a little rough, and, most importantly, lasts a little too long.

"Adam. So... anything cool to do in this town?"

Adam looks down and away, just for a second, before slinging his arm over Kon's shoulders. "I think we can find something."

Adam leads him through the streets until Boston stops looking like the city-equivalent of some little old lady's dining room where no one is supposed to actually sit on the furniture and starts looking like a place where people live.

And party.

And Adam has never actually stopped touching him, either. A thumb rubbing the back of his neck, a shoulder bump when they cross a street. A really exciting ride on the el. The train car was just crowded enough to give Kon an excuse to stand that close behind the guy.

He has a little spider tattooed on the back of his neck.

They head down a few alleys, Adam's hand on his wrist.


Adam smirks back over his shoulder. "Don't worry. We're almost to the club."

"I wasn't worried," he says, in his best Superboy-has-it-under-control voice. "I was just wondering if we could... head back to your place."

Adam stops, and looks down and away again before grinning at him ruefully. "Sorry, man. The 'rents..." He waves a hand.

Kon nods, and has a moment to be grateful -- again -- for living alone. "No problem. Still..."

Adam raises an eyebrow.

"There's no one around."

Adam swallows -- noticeably -- and his eyes get wide.

And Kon has just enough time to wonder if he'd read all the signals wrong when Adam grins again.

"You're absolutely right, Superboy. There isn't anyone around." And Adam puts his arms around Kon's neck and kisses him.

He tastes like something sweet, and kisses surprisingly softly. The beard scrapes at Kon's chin, and that thumb is on the back of his neck again. Kon mms into the kiss and sucks Adam's tongue, pushing him back against the wall.

"You like that."


"Your neck." And Adam strokes him there again, pushing his thumb into the short hairs. "You like me rubbing you there."

Kon grins. "Yeah. I do. Now why don't we find out what you like..." He slides a hand between them and cups Adam through his baggy jeans.

Adam groans and bucks into Kon's palm. "Uh. You don't have to --"

"I want to," he says, and kisses Adam again, and works his jeans open. Adam is hot and hard under there, and... "Mmm," he says again, and wraps his hand around Adam's dick.

"Oh... God."

"Been a while?"

"You could say that -- no, don't --"

"Wha...?" He was just going to look down, but... kissing Adam again is even better, he has to admit.

Adam's kisses are more insistent now, deeper, and he thrusts into Kon's fist.


Adam's hands tighten on his face, keeping Kon there.

It's cool. He likes to kiss. "You want it faster?"

Adam makes a high, whimpering noise against Kon's mouth and comes in his fist.

"Nice, man."

And then Adam laughs, a little weirdly, and bats Kon's hands away. He gets his pants done up again in, like, a second, and grabs Kon's sticky hand. And looks at it. And licks and sucks it clean with fast, efficient little motions that make Kon have to grab himself with his other hand.


Adam looks at him seriously for a long moment, mouth still wrapped around two of Kon's fingers, and then squeezes Kon's wrist. And bites.

And holds on to Kon's fingers while he pushes Kon's tights down.

He jerks Kon off, just like that, green eyes focused on Kon's own and teeth digging in to Kon's fingers.

"Aw, man, that's hot."

Adam jerks him harder and faster and Kon can't keep his eyes open. All he can do is fuck Adam's tight, callused fist and try to remember to keep the TK in check, at least until --

"Adam --"

Adam bites Kon's fingers harder and Kon comes, just like that.

When he opens his eyes, Adam is pulling at Kon's wrist with one hand and just kind of... staring at the other. Kon grins. "Gonna suck that off, too?"

Adam blinks, and gives him a narrow little smile. And does it.

But when Kon leans in to kiss him again, he moves out of reach. "Hey..."

Adam shakes his head and pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop. "Sorry. I kinda have to... get home."

"Parents, right." Kon grins ruefully. "I should probably get back to my team."

Adam nods at him slowly, and turns his head again. "See you around, Superboy."

Superboy takes off, feeling Adam's gaze on him until he's way up into the sky.

Maybe Boston isn't so bad.


Vegas makes no sense whatsoever in daylight.

Granted, neither do giant hedgehog things from space, but still. Bart had whipped up a pretty impressive sandstorm, and then he and Cassie had pretty much pounded the crap out of them, and Robin is, like, explaining to the Mayor and the cops his ideas on what to do with the things.

Robin's really frighteningly good at that stuff. And, well, everything else.

Still. It's pretty much Miller Time for him.

Especially since he hasn't gotten carded once since he's been here. Sweet.

Really, so long as he doesn't have to look at all the casinos and lights from the outside, he's fine.

And it's hot out there.

In here... it's cool, and comfortable, and -- okay, loud with all of the slot machine sounds and people who either look way too happy or way too sad, but Kon's on his fourth margarita, and the waiter who's bringing them looks pretty damned nice in that toga.

Kon tells him so.

The guy -- he can't be older than twenty-two or so -- raises an eyebrow at him. "If you say so, sir. Can I get you another...?"

Kon grins, and gives the guy a bucket of quarters.

The official types had been really generous with the comps, which was a nice change.

The waiter hands him his margarita with a small smile that somehow looks a lot bigger in his eyes. Blue eyes.

Blond, floppy hair and... it's a really nice smile in those eyes. And he isn't really going anywhere.

At least... he doesn't seem to wander as much as all of the other guys and girls in togas.

Hmm, Kon thinks to himself, and jerks the arm on the slot machine again. Cherries, cherries... "Stupid lemon."

"Bad luck, sir."

The voice is low and respectful and has an accent Kon can't place, but when he looks up, the waiter is smiling at him again with his eyes. "You know... you can call me Superboy."

The guy's mouth twitches, once. "Really."

Kon grins. "Really. And I can call you...?"

Another twitch of a smile. "Joseph."

"Not Joe? Joey?"

Joseph leans one hip against the empty stool next to Kon's. "Only to my friends."

His legs are bare, and lean, and the really kind of dumb-assed sandals actually look really nice around those calves. Really kind of ripped calves. Kon looks up slowly. "Let's be friends."

Joseph -- Joey -- smirks at him. "I have a... break in a few minutes. Why don't I meet you in your room?"

Kon grins wider. "Great. I'm in --"

"Seven-eighteen, I know. See you." He walks away.

Which is weird, but... well, Kon supposes it makes sense. Young Justice comes to the hotel where you work, of course you'll know where they're staying. Robin probably has groupies stationed outside of his room.

Kon gets to his room and is just starting to close the curtains when there's a knock on the door. He lets Joey in and goes back to figuring out the weirdly complicated strings for the blinds.

"You... don't like sunlight?"

"Hunh? Oh, dude, I love sunlight, I just... well, you're from here." He looks back over his shoulder to find Joey watching him. "Doesn't it ever get weird? I mean, Vegas seems like such a night town."

Joey looks down and smiles. "You get used to anything, I suppose."

Kon nods and crosses back to Joey. He's still looking away, so Kon touches his chin lightly and turns him back so they're looking at each other. "Hey."

"Hey," Joey says, and covers Kon's hand with his own for a moment before sliding it up along Kon's arm, over his shoulder and onto his neck. Joey's fingers are rough and feel really strong. Waiters' hands probably have to be.

They feel... "Mmm. I like that."

"Yeah," Joey says, with a kind of dreamy undertone to his voice, and digs in hard to the back of Kon's neck.

Kon moans and gets closer, bending his head until his forehead is on Joey's shoulder. He smells like soap and something... else. It's nice. Kon kisses him next to the catch of his toga, nice and wet.

Joey gasps quietly and slides his hand up into Kon's hair, tugging until Kon leans up and in for --

Joey's other hand is on his mouth.

"What else do you like, Superboy?"

Kon licks Joey's fingers and pulls back. "Sex."

Joey smiles. "Really."

"I know, you must be shocked."

"Amazed -- oh."

Kon grins up at Joey from his knees and slides his hands over those hard, lean legs. And up. "I never really thought people could look hot in togas, but..." He digs his thumbs into the insides of Joey's thighs. "It's working for you."

"Uh... Superboy..."

He rubs his thumbs in little circles and Joey shudders -- once. "You like that?"

"Yes, but -- you --"

Kon slides his hands up, and yanks down Joey's briefs and... touches. "You... shave?" He looks up, and Joey is gritting his teeth and not -- quite -- looking at him.

"Long... story," he says.

Kon shrugs. "It feels nice."

"Oh... yeah. Superboy --"

"It's... mm. Really smooth."

Joey groans and bucks into his touch.

"Hey, hold your toga up for me?"

Joey blinks down at him, eyes wide for just a moment, and then he nods and pulls the toga up to his waist.

"Dude, that's fucking..."

"Perverse?" Joey's smirking down at him.

"I was going to say sexy." And it is. Joey's got a nice, hard dick. And the complete lack of hair... Kon shivers. "Okay, maybe a little perverse, too."

Especially with Joey holding the toga up like... like a girl with a skirt, blond hair hanging down over his face.

It feels like self-defense to grab Joey's dick, and then it just feels good. Hot and hard in Kon's hand, and it's all even hotter when Joey's hands spasm and flex around the material of the toga. Kon squeezes not-too-hard and Joey's knuckles go almost white. "You like it hard?"

"S-sometimes -- fuck --"

Kon starts to stroke and watches those hands flex, watches those pretty, lean legs start to tremble.

Joey groans and spreads his legs wider, and he's obviously just trying to brace himself, but... mm.

Kon cups Joey's balls with his other hand and rolls them against his palm.

"Superboy --"

"I've got you," he says and stops stroking long enough to get his lips around the head of Joey's dick.

"Oh fuck."

There's a thudding noise, and Kon looks up to see Joey's head tilted up, pressed back against the wall. His throat is pale and bare and Kon mms around his mouthful and jerks faster.

"Superboy. Superboy --" Joey lets go of the toga with one hand and reaches for Kon, trying to push him away.

Kon lets him. "Come in my mouth. It's okay."

"Oh God -- oh --"

Kon sucks him in as deep as he can with his fist in the way and Joey makes this hot, high strangled noise and shoots.

Kon hums and swallows, and then lets go, sitting back on his heels.

Joey's still holding on to the toga with one hand, but he's kind of... clawing at the wall with the other. He looks pretty shaky.

"You okay?"

"Nnnn... yeah. Just..." Joey shudders once, all over, and stands up straight. And looks at Kon with a weird kind of searching expression.

Kon grins.

Joey ducks and turns his head and smiles. "You like that."

It's almost a question. "Better than those watereddown drinks you kept giving me."

Joey chokes and blinks and looks at him.

Kon grins. "Hey, I won't tell."

"You won't..."

"These places are all about taking money. It'd be kind of weird if they just gave away a lot of free booze."

Joey nods slowly, and then grins, a little quirkily. And drops gracefully to his own knees, straddling Kon's thighs. "So."


"What do you like, Superboy? Specifically."

"Anything man, seriously. I'm pretty easy."

Joey... it's almost a growl, really. And then he cups Kon's face and kisses him hard, tongue stroking in deep.

Kon holds on to Joey's waist and... and then just touches him, because, wow. Not just the legs. He's got a really sweet little body under that toga. All muscular and lean.

Joey pulls back and catches Kon's wrists. "My turn."

"Oh, yeah...?"


Kon grins and twists his hands free, spreading them. "Feel free."

There's a really nicely avid look in Joey's eyes, and something about it makes Kon feel like he's being measured, analyzed, and it's hot and weirdly familiar, and then Joey pounces, tackling Kon and rolling them over the floor until Kon's on his back and Joey's straddling his thighs again.

"Mm. Move forward a little."

Joey raises an eyebrow at him, and shakes his head.

And pushes up the top of Kon's uniform.

The avid look is back, just for a second, and then Joey leans in and... licks him. Slowly.


Kon braces himself on his elbows and watches and Joey... watches right back.

"You're trying to see what I like the best...?"

Joey closes his eyes and licks his way over to one of Kon's nipples.

"Mmph. That's good..."

And sucks it.

"That's better."

And bites it, and Kon groans and buries his hand in Joey's hair, which is thick but weirdly dry in a way he can't put his finger on. And Joey makes a small sound against his chest and bites harder, and that's the only thing Kon can really focus on.

Though the fingers curling under the waistband of Kon's tights are pretty damned interesting, too. "Mm. Joey..."

Joey makes one of those hot little growling sounds against him and pulls back. For a moment, Kon thinks he's going to say something, but he just squeezes his eyes shut and tugs on Kon's tights.

Kon lifts his hips to help and then Joey strokes Kon's erection through his jockeys. Pets him, only it's much harder than petting, really. Most people have to be told to do things hard, but Joey either knows or doesn't care.

Either way, it's good and hot and frustrating, but that just makes it hotter.


Joey squeezes him hard through his jockeys.

"Oh, yeah..."

And he can hear Joey's breathing go a little ragged, and then he yanks Kon's shorts down wraps one of those strong hands around his dick and --

"Fuck, yeah, suck it, Joey -- fuck --"

Teeth, and Kon still hadn't figured out how to even ask for that, but he definitely will in the future. He digs his fingers into the carpeting to keep from grabbing Joey's ears and bucks.

Joey makes another of those great little noises and starts to fuck his mouth on Kon's dick, up and down and up again, and down to where his fist is holding Kon's dick still and --

Watching him.

"Yeah. Just... just like that..."

Joey hums around him and licks Kon's slit. And then does it after every upstroke, and he's barely blinking.

"Oh yeah. Oh... oh man. Your... your eyes..."

And they widen, just for a second, and then Joey squeezes them shut and groans around him and Kon grunts and comes, before he can warn Joey off.

"Fuck, sorry --"

Joey swallows and coughs and keeps swallowing.

"Oh fuck, that's good..."

Joey squeezes Kon's hip and pulls off, panting. And wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Mm. Come here..."

Joey lets Kon kiss him, but...

"You're not really into kissing, hunh?"

"What...? I --" And he did look confused, just for a second, but then it's gone and Joey smiles at him. "I just... have to get back to work."

"Right now?"

Joey's lashes dip down, and Kon knows he's looking at his mouth. "Um."

Kon grins and leans in for another kiss, but Joey stops him with a hand on his chest. And looks him in the eye again.


"No problem. I'll just --" Look for you in the casino later, he was going to say, but something about the way Joey dresses -- fast, and not looking at Kon at all -- just kind of stops that thought.

Joey grins back at him once, over his shoulder, and Kon waves and watches him go.


Gotham City is one of the most intensely fucked-up places on earth, and most of the time he's just fine with the way Robin would rather they stay the hell out -- Gotham doesn't even feel like an American city. It doesn't even feel like a human city. It's dark even in the day, and full of freaky gargoyles and freakier heroes.

Still, the crazy supervillain chick who made all the earthquakes led them here, all the way from Rhode Island, and it's not like Gotham needed another earthquake, so Robin had barely even protested about YJ invading his territory.

Not for more than twenty minutes, anyway.

And Kon has to admit, every time he gets to actually not screw up where Batman might see him -- and doesn't he know everything that goes on in this city? -- he feels a little lighter.

The old-school heroes can be kind of... stressful.

Of course, there are good things about Gotham. Like the fact that you can pretty much get into any club, no matter how old you do or don't look. He guesses that the cops pretty much have too many other things to worry about.


This club is playing some nice music, and a few people call out to him and grin, and the beer cost five bucks, but it's actually pretty decent, and... it's a good night.

He hits the dance floor and pretty much stays there. Part of him wonders what Robin is up to with his bizarre little family, but a) Robin probably doesn't need his help, b) Robin definitely doesn't want his help, and c) none of the rest of them react well to metahumans working their turf, anyway.

Slacking off is the better part of valor, and the chick he's been dancing with for the past few songs is really kind of smoking.

In a weird way. She's on the short side, and she isn't really curvy, and he can't really see a lot of her face -- her hair is dark and kind of hangs -- but... there are other things. Like the way she moves.

The dress is short and tight and strapless and leather, and her legs are really long for a girl her height and -- she moves like she might stop dancing and start fighting at any given moment. Or maybe it's more like she wants to make sure nobody bothers her who couldn't keep up with her. Or... something. She moves like she could kick his ass, and so he's been a little hesitant about touching her, but she doesn't actually do anything.

Anything bad.

She grins at him, just a flash of white teeth in the strobing lights, and spins around to show Kon her lean, pale back. She really is skinny for a girl, and when he -- tentatively -- puts one hand on her waist and the other hand on her shoulder, he can feel a scar against his palm.

More scars when he moves his palm.

She really is a fighter. He has no idea why this is making him hotter, but he's going to go with it right up until she decides to stop dancing and go ninja on his ass or something.

And speaking of ass....

Okay, he was wrong. She is curvy in one place. One really, really good place, snugged-up tight against his hips and grinding. And he can take a hint.

He holds on to her waist and grinds right back, and who cares if the music doesn't really suit it? She feels... Kon slides one hand over her front, or tries to -- she catches his wrist in one weirdly hard (judo? probably judo.) hand and drags it right back to her hip.

He can take orders, too.

And... damn. He can definitely take orders when they feel this good. She just keeps driving back against him, hips moving in these hot, tight little circles and she either doesn't care that Kon's rock-hard under his tights or she likes it that way. Either of which he can work with.

And then she raises her arms and leans back, reaching up and back to wrap them around his neck, and Kon decides to go with 'likes it' and keeps moving. Though if this keeps up, not moving will stop being an option pretty soon.

He doesn't even know her name.

He leans in to press his mouth against her ear, nosing aside dark hair. This close, she smells like sweat and perfume and she's still moving and it takes a while to remember that he'd wanted to do something.

"Uh..." Real smooth.

"Yes, Superboy?"

Her voice sends a shiver right through him. It's throaty and weirdly sweet and... "What's your name?"

"You can call me Marianne," she says, and "that isn't what you wanted to ask."

He tightens his hands on her hips, and she makes a little humming sound. Hard to hear over the music, but this close he can feel it, but... "No?"

"No." He can feel her face move, and knows she's smiling. "You want to ask me if we can go somewhere."

"I do, hunh?"

She rocks back hard, and Kon can't hold in a grunt. "Yeah," she says. "You do."

"Marianne... do you have someplace where we can go?"


"What --"

She twists out of his grasp and turns, leaning up to kiss him fast before grabbing his wrist. "There is a place where we can go."

She pulls. Kon follows.

The 'place' turns out to be a down a dark, grungy little hallway, past the bathrooms and... into a room. She closes the door behind them and it's pitch black.


There's a click, and a bare, weak bulb comes on. The room is actually painted black, too, but it's still more light than he's seen her in all night. And she's... she looks wild, dark hair a little tangled and screening her eyes, and her lips are painted black. A deeper, darker, wetter black.


She nods, and her teeth are shockingly white in contrast. Kon leans in and kisses her, and her mouth is soft and wet and her teeth feel sharper than they can possibly be on Kon's lip.

He steps closer, but she stops him with a hand on his chest. And sucks his lower lip hard before pulling back. And turns around.

She braces one hand on the cracked and peeling paint of the wall and uses the other to yank up her dress. Her panties are black, too, and lacy, and she pushes them down before he gets the time to appreciate them. Not all the way, though. Just far enough that the waistband cups the lowest curves of her ass.

Her round, pale, gorgeous ass, and... she's stroking it. She's stroking her own ass and Kon knows he looks like a dumbass, but he can't stop staring as that hard hand -- black fingernails, too, she has -- slides up and up and --

Kon looks up.

She's grinning at him over her shoulder.


"Like this," she says. "Please."

"Anything you want."

He cups her ass and kisses the back of her neck, squeezes and kisses his way up over her jaw and nuzzles her cheek. She moans quietly, and Kon kisses her. It's an awkward position, but her mouth is soft and she tastes faintly sweet.

And then she bites his lip again and pushes back against his hands.

"Now," she says.

Kon groans and bites the place where her neck meets her shoulder, sucks there, and spreads her open, and he means to just see how tight she is, but... slick.


"You -- uh."

"I knew what I wanted, Superboy. What about you?"

He groans again and slides in a finger, and she grunts and pushes back on it.

"Yes -- yes --"

He fucks her with it, holding her open with his free hand, and --

"More --"

He comes back with two, and she whines high in her throat and scratches at the wall. She's tight, but she'd done a really good job with the slick and... fuck, he can picture it. He feels himself shooting pre-come in his pants and tries to be at least a little gentle.

"Fuck me. Fuck me --"

"Trying... I'm trying not to hurt you --"

She growls, and it's a low, sexy animal sound and Kon twists his fingers and fucks her harder, trying to make her do it again. She pants and works herself back and Kon twists harder and she screams.

"Jesus, sorry --"

"Don't stop, Superboy --"

"I won't. I -- oh, fuck, you're sexy. All those scars..."

She whimpers and bends her head and spreads her legs and Kon can't wait.

He pulls out and shoves his tights down, twitching at the feel of his own bare fingers on his dick, and pushes in. One long, slow-as-he-can-make-it push, and Marianne pants and groans and tenses.

"Breathe. You have to..."

She makes a strangled sound, and it reminds him of -- of something, but he can't hold on to it, because she's tight and hot and flexing around him, because he can smell her -- smell both of them. Sex and sweat, and, she takes a deep, hitching breath and her exhale comes out on another whimper.

Kon strokes her shoulders and grits his teeth against the need to move, and she whimpers again, and... struggles. Or... no. She's bracing her hands against the wall, and her head hangs even lower.

There's a tiny, tiny tattoo of a star just beneath the lowest edge of her hairline, and for some reason Kon thinks of spiders, and then she turns her head and looks at him.

"Do it," she says, and her voice is still really sweet, but now it's kind of low, and Kon's hips move before he can think about it, before he can do anything but do it, and she cries out every time he pushes in and gasps every time he pulls out.

"Oh God... oh God you feel good --"

She shakes her head in nothing like a 'no,' and matches his rhythm effortlessly, still crying out with every thrust, and Kon doesn't think he could stop if someone shot him with a Kryptonite bullet.

"Fuck --"

"Yes -- please --"

And Kon watches her bite her lip, and her eyes are squeezed shut beneath the fringe of her hair and Kon -- "I want to touch you. I want... there's something about --"

When she opens her eyes, they're wide and blue and desperate and naggingly familiar and Kon can't stop. He grabs her thin, hard hips and pulls her into the next thrust.

And the next. And every one after that, and she balls one hand into a fist and beats at the wall and that's just -- he can't stop, but he takes one hand off her hip and covers her hand with it.

"Oh, Superboy... oh God --"

And she jerks and shudders and flexes hard around him. She just came, and it's the sexiest -- just so --

He leans in and licks the star on her neck, tasting... something, but she shivers, and then he just sucks her there and fucks her hard, holding her hips still with one hand and the TK.

"Superboy... you... oh, you feel so good --"

Kon comes, gasping and shaking, and trying not to squeeze her hand too hard.

He knows he squeezed her hip too hard.

He kisses her neck and tries to remember how to breathe.

She... wriggles. And moans.

"Easy. Let me..."

She stills, and Kon lets go of her hand and strokes her hips. Smooth skin and a lot of scars, and Kon's dick twitches inside her and she gasps.

"You're so sexy..."

She turns her head, flipping her hair out of the way, and smiles at him. A really warm, gentle, satisfied smile. And... he has to. Just... feel her.

He pulls out as slow as he can and strokes her ass, watching her eyes flutter closed. He slips a gentle finger into her cleft, touching her hot, wet hole and it's his own come, right there, and it's just so easy to slip it forward and -- tape? "What...?"

She freezes, eyes flying open and legs slamming closed around his hand, trapping it, and... that's a lot of tape, holding her -- his --

"Hey --"

And then she spreads his -- her -- his -- legs again, and pushes Kon's hand out of the way, laughing hysterically and twisting away from the wall --

"Wait, wait -- I don't --"

Mind, he was going to say, but she -- he -- is already out of the little room.

Kon doesn't chase him. Her.

Gotham's just too damned freaky.


Mr. Sarcastic.

Mister... freaking... Sarcastic.

And, okay, he knew Robin was a freak, but... wow.

The flaming cape alone. The flaming cape with an ermine collar, and Kon knows he's staring, but he also knows he's not the only one.

"I've never seen so many jaws hit the floor at once. You guys didn't really think I was dead, did you?"

Dead...? What? There's a nasal edge to Robin's voice that really grating on Kon. Or maybe it's the colors of "Mr. Sarcastic's" uniform. Jesus.

"C'mon, people. We've got television to make!"

And Mr. Sarcastic -- Robin -- claps his hands at them.

Kon thinks about using the TK to dump him out the window. But... the cameras are rolling, and money is money.

Later, he promises himself.

And really, it isn't a bad day. Ace Atchinson spends the whole time pretending he knew all along that Mr. Sarcastic was a founding member of Young Justice, digging himself deeper and deeper as he 'reminisces' about the guy's great adventures.

Cassie spends the whole day trying and failing not to bust out laughing, and really, Kon hadn't known her nose could twitch like that.

And Bart... heh.

Bart spends the whole day zipping in out of nowhere, apparently solely to poke at the mesh on Mr. Sarcastic's t-shirt.

Really, he can't blame the guy. There's more skin showing -- fake tatts and all -- than any of them have ever seen on Robin. And that includes the times when his suit's gotten all ripped up in a fight.

And... mm. He'd known Robin had a sweet little body under there, but something about all that bare skin...

Kon frowns to himself. There's something... He hates deja vu.

Eventually, all of the TV people are gone, leaving behind an impressive amount of litter. He's a little surprised by the fact that he wants to clean, but... well. There's a difference when it's their mess.

He uses the TK to crush a pile of fast food wrappers, papers, and other stuff into a small ball and... there.

"Nothin' but net," he mutters to himself.

And there's applause. "You can be the first metahuman in the NBA."

Mr. Sarcastic. Kon shakes his head. "Man, that voice is annoying."

He snorts. "I think it suits the persona."

Kon rolls his eyes and moves the pillows around on the couch. "Whatever, dude. The outsiders are all gone. You can stop now."

Kon sits down and puts his feet up, and looks over to find Robin watching him. It's a Robin look, and it's a Robin smirk, but...

"You really don't look anything like yourself. How do you do that?"

Robin ducks and turns his head and grins at the floor. "Practice."

"Uh, huh." Kon pats the couch. "C'mon, share your secrets."

Robin gives him a long, weirdly glittery look and joins him.

Kon pokes at the mesh. Sweet, hard little body.

Robin gives him another look, and his eyes are... his eyes probably aren't, actually hazel.

"What color are your eyes?"


"Your real eyes, dumbass."

Robin... blinks. "You can tell?"

"What? No. I just figured there's no way you'd go around without... contacts." Tattoos. Smirking. That head-turned smile.

That body.

Kon blinks and stares.


"Jesus fucking CHRIST!"

Robin smirks. "Someone just caught a clue." Mr. Sarcastic voice.

Kon jumps up and staggers off the couch. "You -- you -- what the fuck?"


"No! Use your real voice, asshole, or I swear to God I will hurt you."

Robin blinks. Pauses. And takes off the weird little sunglasses and rips off the goatee. "Satisfied?"

"No, I'm not fucking satisfied! We've been having sex and I didn't even know it!"

"But you had a good time."

"A good... what... what? That was you. Every fucking time and -- GAH!" It feels like his eyes are trying to fall out of his head. It feels like his mind is trying to fall out of his head, and Robin's just sitting there, calmly... "You giant freak!"

Robin raises an eyebrow.

Kon points. "No! You are totally a freak. Don't raise that eyebrow at me. You're the freakiest freak in the entire freaking UNIVERSE!"

"For having sex with you?"

"No, not for -- are you insane?"

"Kon --"

"How many times."

"A few."

"How many?"




"Joey. That fucking toga --"

"You seemed to like the toga..."

"Shut up. Where else?"


"Angelo? You -- fuck. You didn't let me touch your face. The makeup..." Kon groans and covers his face with his hands.

"Kon... I didn't think you'd... mind."

Kon looks up and Robin looks -- finally -- a little uncomfortable. "You didn't think -- you -- argh! Where else?"



"Batman developed a better grade of makeup."

"I have to sit down. I have to -- wait. No. Keep going. That was you in Gotham, wasn't it?"

Robin grins at him. "I was pretty convincing, hunh?"

"Well... actually, yeah. Right up until..."

"The tape. Now that was painful."

Kon squints and shakes his head. "Why?"

Robin shrugs. "I knew I could go out as a woman, but... well. I had to test it. And... I liked the way you danced." Another one of those glittery looks, and it would be...

It would be really easy to get distracted, because Kon had never even let himself think of Robin this way, except that he'd had him. Sucked him, jerked him, fucked him...

Kon bites his lip and the glittery look gets even... glitterier.


"Come back to the couch."

Kon takes a step and -- "Jesus, man, no. Keep going. Where else?"

"There isn't anywhere else. It's not like I've been stalking you."

"Not like..." He's not even going to touch that one. "Houston. That was you. That was totally you."

"No, that guy just looked like me."

"You -- what -- I don't even know what you look like! And you watched?"

"Kon. You've seen my entire body --"

"In pieces. You never --"

"You've seen my face --"

"Beards! Makeup!"

"You --"

"God fucking dammit, Robin! I'm not the detective here, okay? I didn't even know there was anything to detect. If you're going to play fucking games with me, you can at least give me a hint about what the rules are!"

Robin looks at him.

Kon breathes.

"You... may have a point."

"Oh, that's really fucking big of you, man. I'm out."

He doesn't bother with the door, just flies out of the window and up.

He's not...

And Robin was going to do it again. As Mr. Fucking Sarcastic this time, like maybe he'd smirk when Kon was fucking his mouth.

It isn't fair that the thought's a turn-on, because... It isn't fucking fair. It's freaky and sick that he's been all but living with Robin every damned weekend, and fighting at his side, and the whole time...

God, he had to be laughing at him. The big, stupid slut who'd fuck anything who smiled at him -- especially if they were short and lean and --

Kon heads for the woods and aims himself at a tree.

And another one.

And another.

And... okay, maybe he shouldn't be deforesting Rhode Island, but he has to do something, and he can't actually beat Robin to death. Maybe.

He just can't get away from the images, even though he knows they're wrong. 'Angelo's' strong, rough hand -- how hadn't he noticed the hands? -- around his dick and Joey's lean, strong legs, and Marianne's...

God, her scars.

Robin's hands, Robin's legs, Robin's... scars.

Kon shudders and wraps his arms around himself. He doesn't fucking get it. All he'd been doing...

He was a teenager -- sort of. And sex is fun, and you weren't supposed to do it with your team-mates -- no more than flirting, anyway, because that would mess things up.

He was trying to be good, and Robin had just...

Kon's never going to be able to wander through a city without wondering about every short, lean -- person who smiles at him.

He's never going to stop being disappointed when -- if? -- they aren't Robin. Twisted, freaky Robin. Who... smiled at him after Kon had fucked him, like he'd really...

("I knew what I wanted.")

But who the fuck knew if that smile was real?

Kon squeezes his eyes shut and takes off for home.

No way he can deal with the rest of the team right now.


TV sucks. TV always sucks, cable or no cable, but it feels especially insulting to have to put up with Beastmaster II being on two channels.

Kon glares at the screen and keeps flipping. News, news, talk show, news, seventeen different talk shows, and no, he really does not want to watch anyone whine about their problems with their boyfriends, girlfriends, or what-the-fuck-ever right now.

At least THEY know what the person they're fucking looks like.

The doorbell rings. Pizza. Early, but whatever, he's due for some good news today. Maybe it'll even be --


Hot. Kon blinks. There's a short-ish, lean, dark-haired guy with blue eyes standing outside the door of his apartment. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt and what looks like boots. He has a jaw-line Kon has seen a thousand times and kissed a lot, too.

He's left marks on that throat. Kon breathes. "Who are you?"

"You know --"

"No, I don't. Contacts? A fake nose? Hell, for all I know you've just been wearing a better wig than Cassie had."

Robin winces. "I'm not. I haven't. You can..."

"I can what, R -- and what the fuck do I call you anyway? This time. You look like a Bill. Or maybe a freaking Devon."

"Tim. My name's Tim."

Kon stares at him.

"I'm not... I'm not sure how to prove that in a way you'll believe. The other stuff..." Robin reaches out and wraps his hand around Kon's wrist -- gently. And pulls Kon's hand up to his own face, uncurling Kon's fingers out of the fist he didn't know he'd made and pressing his face to Kon's palm.

He can feel Robin's breath. He can feel... skin. The nose feels like it's attached. There's a hint of stubble on his chin. And his hair...

"You weren't... you weren't wearing a wig as Marianne."

"No. I just... changed the style. And my eyes... I'd really prefer it if you didn't poke me in the eye." Robin's smile is small and...

He wants to believe it. That has to be the lousiest part of this. Kon turns around and walks back into his apartment, kicking aside a small pile of clothes.

He hears Robin close the door behind them and sits back on the couch. And turns off the TV. Kon can't look at him directly. He...

He can see Robin out of the corner of his eye, just sort of standing there. "Why are you here?"

"To apologize."

Kon closes his eyes. "Just tell me why you did it."

"I had... a lot of reasons. Kon --"

"Make a list. I'm listening."

There's a pause, and Kon opens his eyes. Tim -- Robin has his arms folded, and he's looking down at the floor, and he isn't smiling. He's... he looks just like an incredibly well-built teenager, except for his hands. His hands look older. And then he looks up at Kon, looks him in the eye.

"Tell me."

"At first... it was a while ago. I was still learning how to do the disguise thing. That first time --"


"Yeah. I thought... I kind of thought you'd know me."

"With red hair and a freaking spider on your neck."

Tim looks at the floor again. "I guess... there were other reasons."


"You... when I realized you didn't know me, that I was just... some guy you felt like flirting with..." He shrugs. "I flirted back."

"You did more than flirt."

"Yeah. I... wasn't expecting to."

"You..." And he remembers. The pauses. The shock. "Jesus. You didn't have to --"

"I told myself I was staying in character."

"Christ, Robin!"

A rueful smile. "It didn't hurt that it felt really, really good."

Kon breathes. "And that's... the other times. Is that why?"

"I was just going to look out for you in Vegas. Make sure you were... okay."

"Watered-down drinks. Fuck. I thought..."

"That the casino was cheap. I know." Robin crosses his arms a little tighter. "They really weren't. And then... you have this way of looking at... at someone you want to have sex with."

Kon puts his head in his hands. "You were hot. You..." You're always hot.

"Yeah. And then... well. It was a thing. Something I could... have. And tell myself I was just improving my disguises."

Kon squeezes his eyes shut behind his hands. "I just don't... why me, Rob?"

There's a hand on his wrist again. He didn't even feel Tim -- Robin. He didn't feel him moving. "Kon..."

Kon opens his eyes and moves his hands and looks at Robin. He's crouching on the floor next to him. Looking up. His mouth looks... "What? Tell me why."

"You... I didn't think you'd care. There were... there were always so many people, so many men and women in every city we went to. And I thought I could just... blend in. I didn't think... I didn't think you'd remember."

"How..." Kon frowns. "How could I forget someone I had sex with? Christ, what... I mean, do you?"

Robin looks down. "You're the only one."


"You were... you were safe, and. The only one I --" He swallows, audibly. "I wish you'd call me Tim."

It's hard to breathe. "You -- you could've. I would... I was always attracted to you."

Tim squeezes his wrist for a moment before letting go. "This way, I could... and you could just keep being with whoever you wanted. And I could be... myself. A little at a time."

Kon reaches out before he can stop himself, and Tim's hair is soft and thick and slides through his fingers and Tim shivers and then he can't let go. "And this is... all at once."


"Look at me."

He does, and he looks... blank. Except for his eyes, which are kind of tight at the edges, and the hard line of his mouth.



"You... are really scarily fucked-up, man."

Tim cuts his eyes away and one corner of his mouth turns up. "Probably."

"Tim --"

And then he ducks his head, twisting out of the grip Kon has on his hair, and stands, backing away. "I should get out of here. I just wanted... to apologize. If I'd thought..." Tim scrubs a hand through his hair. "I didn't think. I'm going --"

"Nowhere. You're going nowhere."

Tim stops, halfway across the room, and Kon can see how tense he is. It's in the line of his shoulders. "Kon --"

"I thought you were laughing at me, man."

Tim flinches. "I wasn't. I was... it was a game. It wasn't... that much of a game."

"You wanted me."


"You... that club. You went there, and you were all... and you'd never..."


"Tim. You're... I don't know if I'm turned on or terrified."

Tim laughs, but he doesn't actually relax. "I'm... getting that."

"I don't... want to be scared of you."

"I don't want you to be scared of me."

Kon gets up and closes the distance between them. Carefully. Sets his hands on Tim's shoulders and thinks about scars. Thinks about... "What do you want."

"You already know --"

"You were being in character. I don't even know what you --"

"When you were... when you were inside me, I came... my dick was taped to my stomach and my balls were taped to that and you still made me come so hard --"

"Oh, God..."

Tim shivers and Kon squeezes his shoulders and tries not to -- he doesn't want to try. He moves his hands to Tim's waist instead, and pushes up under his t-shirt and... skin. Scars.


Tim takes that last half-step back until he's pressed to Kon from his shoulders to... all the way down. Kon rocks forward helplessly and slides his hands up to Tim's nipples. Tim's hard nipples.

"You liked... you liked it when I fucked you --"


"And... what else? What else did you like?"

"Your hands... they're so -- oh --"

Kon pinches Tim's nipples again, a little harder. "Like that?"

"Kon --" Tim reaches back and grabs Kon's thighs, digging in hard with his fingers and --

"You're holding on to me..."

"I can't... you feel..."

Kon bends and kisses the back of Tim's neck, where all the different weird tattoos aren't. Just a tiny little mole, and the feel of Tim shaking under his mouth, against him. "You like my mouth."

"Please, Kon --"

"I want -- I want -- oh, fuck, Tim." Kon pulls Tim back against him hard, just like in that club, only now Tim isn't hiding anything, he's letting Kon touch him all over, and Tim tilts his head back and rests it on Kon's shoulder and digs in even harder with his fingers when Kon starts working on his fly.

Inside and... boxers. Cotton boxers.

Kon laughs to himself, more than a little broken to his own ears.

"I don't own that many pairs of panties."

"We can go shopping," he says, and pushes the shorts down and wraps his fist around Tim's dick and -- hair. "Why were you shaved that time?"

"Kept dyeing it down there after... oh God, harder, Kon, please --"

"I've got you --"

Tim groans and turns his head on Kon's shoulder and pants against his neck. "Kon."

"Tell me... the dye..."

"Nnn..." Tim takes one hand off Kon's thigh and reaches between them, yanking and working at Kon's fly. "I kept dyeing it. To match -- fuck -- my wig. Or the dye in my hair. It fell out... take these off. Help me, I want --"

Kon groans and manages to stop stroking Tim's pubes long enough to help get his pants open. He can't stop jerking Tim's dick and Tim squeezes him and Kon squeezes Tim and grunts and rubs his thumb along the slick, slick head of his dick. "I want to suck you. I want to see your face when you're fucking my mouth --"

Tim gasps and squeezes him again and comes, all over his fist. "Kon..."

"God, you turn me on so much --"

And Tim lets go and twists in his arms and kisses him. He kisses with his eyes open, but Kon can't leave his that way, as much as he wants to. He just... he has to focus, because Tim's tongue is slick and fast and familiar and Tim's hand is rough on Kon's dick and Tim's other hand is on his neck, rubbing and stroking and pressing.

Kon gasps. "I like that I -- you know --"

"Yes," Tim says, and kisses him again, hard and brief, and drops to his knees and sucks him in. Kon feels something seize up and die inside of himself and looks down and...


Looking at him, and his hair is sweaty and mussed and falling over one eye, and Kon reaches down to brush it back. And then he just has to brace himself on Tim's shoulders, because Tim looks naked.

"Tim. You -- oh fuck --"

Barely blinking, and sucking Kon hard and -- stopping. "I hated it. I hated it when you called me by those names. I wanted..." And Tim growls and sucks him in again and Kon's knees are shaking and he's putting way too much weight on Tim, but Tim just...

Hums around him.

And goes down all the way to his fist and uncovers his teeth on the way back up.

"Tim. Tim --"

Tim strokes Kon's hip with his other hand and slides around to squeeze his ass and... fingers. In his cleft.

"Oh fuck, Tim, yes --"

Tim pushes in with one -- has to be his thumb, and Kon can't --

"Tim --"

His hips jerk and Tim makes a low, strangled little -- Kon comes groaning, shaking, and only manages to keep his feet until Tim pulls back and pulls out. And then he just drops, falling half on Tim and sending them both to the floor.

Tim shifts under him and Kon bites his throat.

"Oh -- I just -- I wanted to get into... better position --"

Kon moans against Tim's skin and rolls them over until he's on his back. And doesn't let go. He bites the other side of Tim's throat, instead, and Tim jerks and moans.

"Kon. Yes..."

He stops sucking when he can, and Tim gasps once, twice, and leans in and kisses him.

And then pulls back and shifts until he can push his face against Kon's neck.

Kon strokes his back and tries to remember how to be a person who breathes and thinks and does things with his mouth that don't involve sucking and biting and... he gives up and squeezes Tim until he gasps again.

He really should apologize for that. He... really can't stop thinking about Tim's thumb.

"I want you to fuck me."

"I want to, Kon. And I want... I want you to do me. Again."

Kon's dick twitches between them and Tim... presses down. "Fuck."


"We... talk. Thing."

He can feel Tim smiling against his throat. "Okay."

He tries again. "Tim."

Tim braces his hands on either side of Kon's head and looks at him. "You never hide. Not ever. I..." Tim shifts to lean on one elbow and strokes Kon's face with his free hand. "I hide all the time."

"But not now."


"You don't have to hide with me, Tim."

And Tim's face... it doesn't crumple. It just tightens, all over, for one fast, terrifying heartbeat. And then he presses it against Kon's throat again. "I know," he says.

Kon closes his eyes and holds on. He knows what that means. Or... he sort of does. He's had years to get used to the idea that he really wouldn't ever know Robin at all. And all of this... knowing more doesn't mean understanding more, except when it does, a little, and...

And... maybe it won't be a terrible thing to look for Tim in all of the short-ish, lean, muscular people he sees. To play that game.

After all, he knows the rules now.

Sort of.

He grins to himself, more than a little ruefully, and strokes Tim's back. Listens to him breathe, and feels it, and, tries not to think about much of anything.

It isn't difficult.

Tim shifts above him, but doesn't actually try to move.

It isn't difficult at all, really.


Author's Note: I've been thinking -- a lot -- about what it might say about Tim that he chooses the disguises and aliases that he does -- as opposed to creations like 'Matches Malone,' and 'Generic Yet Desperately Dangerous Homeless Woman.' He can be... just a bit flamboyant.

Which is, of course, not the real him...

Title from Terri Apter:

"One of the main tasks of adolescence is to achieve an identity--not necessarily a knowledge of who we are, but a clarification of the range of what we might become, a set of self-references by which we can make sense of our responses, and justify our decisions and goals."

Please post a comment on this story.

Fandom:  Other (Young Justice)
Title:  clarification of range, A
Author:  Te   [email]   [website]
Details:  Standalone  |  NC-17  |  *slash*  |  51k  |  03/16/04
Characters:  Superboy, Robin
Pairings:  Superboy/Robin
Summary:  Kon's easy. Tim takes advantage.

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