The Glass Onion Text too small or too big? You can change it! Ctrl+ (bigger), Ctrl- (smaller)
or click on View in your browser and look for font or text size settings.

Home/Quicksearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List

Things You Get Used To

by Te

[Story Headers]

Things You Get Used To
by Te
March 18, 2004

Disclaimers: Not even close to mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Tim's kind of scary right now.

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

But... yeah. Right now...

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

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


Tim sways on his feet. Kon waits for it.

"Oh, no! Are you okay?"

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

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

Too late.

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

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

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

Kon clears his throat.

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

"Uh, Tim."


Right. Kon leans back against the wall and waits.

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

"Tim! You have to listen to me!"

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

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

Kon shifts for an entirely different reason.

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

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

"Got that under control there, Tim?"

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

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

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

Kon checks. Not even a nick.

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

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

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

Kon clears his throat again.

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

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

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

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

Tim takes his gauntlets off. With his teeth.

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

Tim pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim looks up at him.

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

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

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

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

"The others."

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

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

"Younger than you."

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

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

"Yeah, so... Tim."

"I'm listening."

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

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

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

"Show me."


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

"With... Bart?"

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

"... experimentation."

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

"Uh, huh. So..."

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

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


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

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

That has to be improvement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim narrows his eyes.

"Or hard. We can --"

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

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

Doesn't come.

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

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

Kon stares.

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

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

Hard, callused Tim hand.


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

And Bart makes a sound.

Just one, quiet little... moan.

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

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

"You ready, Bart?"

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

"Kon --"

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

Kon swallows. "Tim?"

"I have to see."

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

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

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

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

"Hey --"

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

And Bart's staring at Kon again.

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

"Uh --"

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

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

"Kon," Bart says.

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

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

And rubs his nipples.

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

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

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

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


And --

"Please --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kon --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bart breathes and swallows and nods and vibrates.

"You should. You should lay down again."

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

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

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

"Bart --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He'll get away."

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

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

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

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



"Is this... better?"

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

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

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

"I'm gonna spread you now."

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

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

"Tim --"

Bart gasps and struggles and -- stops.

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or Tim's matching his.

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

His fingers are still in Bart's mouth.

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

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

Strokes --

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

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

"Fuck --"

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


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

He can feel himself shaking.

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

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

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

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

And then Bart's gone.

And back.

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

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

Tim's eyes flutter closed.

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

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

He swallows and tries again.

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

"No," Tim says.

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

"Bart --"

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

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

Kon blinks.

Tim moans, long and low.

Bart glares.

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

Still warm.

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



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

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

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

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

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

"He won't."

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

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

"Please --"

"Tell me."

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

"Tim --"

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

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

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

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

"Don't --"


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

Kon blinks. Swallows. "How."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ohhh." That's Bart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The tunic. Tell me --"

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

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

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

"Keep begging. Keep --"

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

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

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

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

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


His mouth is wet and slack and red.

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

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

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

"Bart, pull his pants down for me."

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's not enough.

It's not enough.

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

Tim isn't staring at anything at all.

The beds are... there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim groans and pushes up against Bart's hands.

"Say it."

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

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

"Oh God, Kon --"

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

Tim gasps. "Yes."

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

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

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

It just makes it sexier.

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

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

And Kon can push his dick right in.

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

But he does.

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, fuck, Bart --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looks around.

The med-lab is trashed.

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

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

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

And Kon has no fucking clue what to do.

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

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

And licks his own teeth.


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

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

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

He's definitely here.

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

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

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


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

They'd all gone home. Or he had.

He has no fucking clue about the rest of them.

He doesn't think he wants to.

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

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

"Hey," Bart says.


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

"That's... okay."

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



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

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

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

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

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

"Tim's still in the infirmary."

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

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

"No he won't."

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

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

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

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

"Kon --"

"Why are you here, man?"

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

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

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

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

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

Kon winces.

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

"Okay," he says.

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

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



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

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

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

"I made it worse."

"That, too. And then I did."

"Bart --"

"We fucked up, Kon. Bad."

Kon sighs. "Yeah. We did."

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. Always."

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

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

"You got that from a movie."

"Yeah, I really did."

Bart snickers. "Was it a good movie?"

"Not even remotely."

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

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

Bart breathes. "It's not better."


"We should go not be better with Tim."

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

"Did you want me here?"

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

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

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


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

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

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

He looks like someone punched him in the mouth.

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

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

"Hi, Tim."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kon winces. Tim really doesn't want --

Bart stops moving. "What?"


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

Kon winces again. "Bart --"

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

Tim's jaw is working again.

"Tim --"

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

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

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

He knows exactly how sickly he looks.

"Kon. What are you --"

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

"You -- can't deal."

"Uh... yeah?"

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

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

Bart stops.

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

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

Bart snorts. "Yeah. He did."

Tim blinks. "I --"

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

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

"Uh... Tim," he tries.

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

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

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

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

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

"His hips --"

"Shut up!" Tim glares at them both.

Kon shuts up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me, too," Bart says.

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

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

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

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

Kon winces.

Tim flinches.

"Er. Subjective time. Right."

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

"Tim --"

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

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

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

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

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

Bart blinks. "That..."

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

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

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

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

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

"Then... no."


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

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

Bart smiles at him over his shoulder and zips off.

And maybe some thinking, too.


Please post a comment on this story.

Fandom:  Teen Titans
Title:  Things You Get Used To
Author:  Te   [email]   [website]
Details:  Standalone  |  NC-17  |  *slash*  |  48k  |  03/18/04
Characters:  Superboy, Robin, Kid Flash
Pairings:  Superboy/Robin/Kid Flash
Summary:  Sex pollen. Titans. er. Together.

[top of page]

Home/QuickSearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List