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And take me worlds away

by Te

[Story Headers]

And take me worlds away
by Te
April 19, 2004

Disclaimers: All belongs to DC. I'm just a lowly fangirl.

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

Summary: Tim and Kon have an actual conversation. And then do other stuff.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: This was supposed to be an entirely different story, one with even more gratuitous sex. Guess I'll just have to keep trying.

Acknowledgments: To L.C., Shrift, and Jack for audiencing, encouragement, and inspiration.

*

It's a normal Saturday night at the Tower, which means that he's on the roof staring out at a city he's only partially responsible for, and only part-time, and Kon's with him. They aren't talking about their issues, and Kon's already paid his usual lip service to hitting the town, and Tim's already given his usual refusal.

It isn't that he can't see the appeal of a night in San Francisco while they both pretend to be nothing but typical underaged boys seeing the sights and getting into trouble; it's just that three years of being Robin has pretty effectively cured him of the idea that 'getting into trouble' would be anything but literal.

There are few things more stressful than trying to figure out ways to fight the inevitable crime while he's in civvies, and there are only so many times he can go out as someone who's only pretending to be Robin before he loses what little sanity he has left.

He's doling them out sparingly.

And, well, it seems a little unfair to Kon -- he'd like to be the kind of friend who Kon could go out and party with -- but that's just not going to happen tonight. And Kon doesn't seem to mind too much. It's only been a couple of months, and there's already a routine to this, and something of an unspoken rule. No one bothers them when they're up here.

Sometimes Tim wonders what the others think they're doing, but he really has no intention of asking. He does kind of wonder about Kon.

Sometimes Tim thinks these quiet moments of just being together, just being friends who aren't actively battling to save the world, mean as much to Kon as they do to him. And he'll actually say some of that... some other time.

Tim grins to himself and settles into a more comfortable stance. He can see Kon raising an eyebrow at him out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"Whenever you do that, I keep expecting supervillains to jump out of the sky, dude."

"I just shifted my feet a little."

Kon snorts. "Yeah, and it would take you exactly how many nanoseconds to pull a weapon?"

"Point. I'm not planning on it."

Kon snorts again and crosses his arms over his chest. "Good to know."

There are a lot of things he'd like to know. What prompted this latest uniform-change, for one. Or, really, what Kon would say if Tim asked. He has his own theories about it. A desire to distance himself a little more from Clark, while not distancing himself from the legacy. On a shallower -- and more effective -- level, a desire to distance himself from the boy he'd been.

The boy he still is, and sometimes it weirds Tim out more than a little that Kon's six inches taller than he is and twelve years younger. He thinks he's supposed to be used to that sort of thing by now.

He wonders if that's even possible.

"What are you thinking about?"

You. Your clothes, what we're doing up here again, what you're going to say when I have to stop... "Nothing, really."

"Wonder Boy." Kon shakes his head. "Some things don't change."

These days, Kon only calls him 'Wonder Boy' when he's pointing out, consciously or no, that Tim is being especially... Battish. He looks at Kon and gets a long, steady look in return. A pointed look, though Kon still drops his eyes first.

Tim knows it's the mask more than anything else that does it. When Tim's bare-faced, Kon doesn't have much trouble at all staring him down.

Kon frowns down at the roof, and he looks like he's maybe thirty seconds from saying something that'll lead to him going back inside, going to find someone who'll talk to him. With him.

"I wish..." Tim doesn't actually know how to finish that thought. There are a dozen different true things he could say. He looks back out over the Bay.

Kon looks up at him from under his lashes. "That was nearly a personal moment, there, Rob. Wanna watch that."

"I don't mind personal moments." It comes out precisely as much of a whining protest as it should. He winces internally, and listens to Kon laugh at him.

"Yeah. On TV. In someone else's house. Sixteen miles in the opposite direction from you."

Tim crosses his arms under the cape. "I'm..." Here, aren't I? "I don't mind personal moments," he says again, instead. He can feel Kon looking at him.

It's almost a Look, actually.

Tim pastes a smile on his face and turns. And... says absolutely nothing because he realizes that it's exactly the smile he uses whenever Dick gets too close. The I'm-fine-really-just-being-abroody -idiot smile, and it makes his stomach churn, a little.

For a lot of reasons.

Not least of which is the fact that Kon responds to it immediately, grinning right back.

Of course he would. It's a nice smile -- Tim's had a long time to perfect it. He isn't supposed to smile like that with Kon, with any of them. It's for his... his family, and for the times when they felt like letting him bullshit them. It's for...

There's something really fucked up about it. A big, huge, fundamental fuck-up over and above all of the little nasty things he really is used to. The lines are falling apart, and coming down. Young Justice was never the Titans, but now he is a Titan, and he'd always known the Titans were Dick's other family, but he'd never thought...

He isn't supposed to be looking like whatever he looks like now, that's making the grin fall off Kon's face like something out of a particularly disturbing cartoon.

"Tim...?"

He wipes his expression clean with an act of will and stares down at the roof. "Yeah."

"Um... what the fuck?"

It's nothing. There aren't enough lines. It's nothing. "I'm not entirely sure."

Kon's hand is on his shoulder. One of his hands. The other is on his face, under his chin. Tilting his head up. "Hey."

"Yeah."

Kon winces and turns his head away and squeezes his shoulder.

Tim is so not the one to say anything about mixed messages right now.

"So," Kon says to the space somewhere over his own shoulder, "I'm getting that something is actually going on with you."

He tenses, and watches Kon feel it. It's visible in the way his brow furrows. A year ago, his hair was long enough to cover that sort of thing. He really does look older. No one is ever going to refer to him as 'the Kid' anymore.

Everything changes. And Kon's looking at him seriously, openly.

It's a ridiculous thought -- Kon does everything openly, including lie. Tim swallows, and tries to figure out what he has to do to make that worried look fade off Kon's face.

"Is this... I mean, when you told me that maybe one day there'd be something you'd... want my help with. I... I just kind of figured it was one of those things people say when they want to make someone feel better for being a whiny little bitch, you know?"

He's not entirely wrong. Tim hadn't really intended it to mean anything at all. Sometimes intent gets in the way of the truth. "I... thought you might have," is what he says.

Kon nods, and looks at him. "If there is something... you can tell me. I'm... I want to know." Kon grins ruefully, and for some reason it just makes everything clearer, more visceral.

The heat of his hand on Tim's face, the way he's still just barely squeezing Tim's shoulder. They don't touch very much. He doesn't really touch anyone that much. Sooner or later -- probably sooner -- Kon is going to realize that they are touching, and then he'll let go. "Okay," Tim says, as neutrally as he can. He's not going to rush it.

Kon frowns and lets go of his face. "I'm serious, Tim."

"I know --"

"No, I mean... even if you know I can't do anything to help, okay? I mean, I don't expect you to be able to solve every problem I throw at you, and... I mean, just talking is okay, right? For friends."

"Sometimes I don't think we are friends, Kon," he says, and there are so many ways in which that was the wrong thing to say. He's already made Kon ask, he knows Kon isn't sure about him, and he knows...

The blood drains out of Kon's face so fast.

"No. That wasn't -- that didn't come out right --"

"Yeah, okay," and Kon's hand isn't on his shoulder, anymore. "Look, I'm just --"

"Wait."

Kon pauses, but doesn't say anything. His back is to Tim, and it should... it should make it easier, right?

"I just. It isn't just... I don't think 'friendship' is the right word."

Kon turns, just his head, and Tim can see his jaw working. "You're going to have to be more specific than that, man."

"You..." He can't keep looking at Kon. The Bay is still there, though. Tim crosses his arms a little tighter under the cape.

"Tim --"

"You go to high school now. Conner Kent does, anyway."

"Yeah..." There's a wariness in Kon's voice. His instincts were always good.

"So... you see them, right? The other kids. The normal kids. And what they call 'friendship.'" It's funny, or maybe it's just the point: He's spent enough time with Kon to be able to feel it when he frowns.

"What's your point?"

"Do you..." He forces himself to look at Kon again, or at least nearly at him. You can get away with a lot in a mask. "Does it really feel the same for you? These... these people who get upset when their 'best friend' shows up late for a study date and..."

"Us?"

Tim stares at Kon's 's.' "Yeah."

He can still feel Kon frowning. "Why are you thinking about them, man? You... I mean, we're just marking time. And then we'll graduate and..."

"Save the universe a few more times?"

Kon laughs, but there isn't much humor in it. When Tim looks up, Kon is scrubbing a hand over his buzz. Or he starts to, and then he just leaves his hand there, and does some Bay-staring himself.

"Kon?"

"Okay, see." He gestures vaguely with his other hand. "As near as I can tell, you could be talking about how you feel about me -- which would be freaky enough, man -- or you could be talking about how you've maybe finally figured out that you're not just marking time here, with the rest of us, or you could be talking about something entirely different." Kon looks at him, half-smiling, one hand still on his head.

And then he takes it off and shoves it in his pocket.

"Or you could be talking about all of the above."

Tim smiles, a little helplessly. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Kon nods. "Right."

Tim thinks about uncrossing his arms, and then just leaves them there. Waits.

"I guess I'm trying to figure out if I should try to get specifics out of you, or..."

"Or?"

Kon takes a deep, shuddering breath that Tim can... he can feel it.

It makes him want to breathe, too.

"Tim, I haven't been sure whether I wanted to punch you or fuck you for about a year now."

Tim feels his face heat. "That long?"

"Maybe longer. Don't try to tell me you didn't know."

"I knew."

Kon laughs and crosses his arms over his chest again, absently leaning out over the edge of the roof.

Another few inches and he'll have to use the TK to stay up. He settles back on his heels, instead.

"So part of me... I guess I was waiting to be sure. Because you'd know that, too, and then you'd explain what we were going to do about it, or maybe we'd just kill each other."

He doesn't really have anything to say to that.

Kon nods to himself. "I figured I'd know you better by then, too. That knowing you better would be the thing that let me know what I actually wanted to do with you. What I wanted from you."

Tim nods. They're both, theoretically, staring at the Bay. It's entirely possible that a sea monster could rise from the depths and flip them off without either of them noticing.

"And then I just kind of figured I never would, but by then it was okay, anyway. I just... I thought this was how it was going to be, and I went back and forth between trying to figure out which of us was more fucked-up, and I wondered how much of how you were was
because it was the way you had to be --"

"A lot."

Kon sucks in a breath, and Tim knows what it feels like when Kon glares at him, too.

"Kon --"

"This is -- that was what he had, and that was everything I had, so, yeah, it's what I fucking call friendship, Tim."

Tim stares at the bay just a little more. "I have a father. And a mother."

"What?"

"They aren't Batman --"

"Well, obviously, dude --"

Tim holds up a hand. "Wait. Just a second." He forces himself to look Kon in the eye. "Okay?"

Kon frowns and nods.

"They don't know... they don't know about any of this. I've been lying to them for years. They think... they think I'm at some special vocational training program right now. They think I'm..."

"Normal."

"Yeah. And it's... for a long time I was okay with it. Or I told myself... I don't know. I think I was angry with my father, and I was just... I wasn't thinking about it."

Kon shifts and moves closer. A little. "But now you are. Thinking about it."

"Yeah. No. I'm... it's just one part of everything else. Like how..." He can keep looking at Kon. And he will. "You don't know me well enough to know when I'm just smiling to keep you from looking too closely."

Kon frowns. "You haven't exactly --"

"You don't know me well enough to know that I would've had sex with you any time you asked."

Kon blinks. "I. Jesus, Tim."

"And maybe let you punch me, too."

"You fucking deserved it, you --" Kon tightens his arms over his chest and he's not really frowning at Tim, but Tim knows he'd be able to feel it even if he wasn't looking.

Tim swallows again. "You mean a lot to me, Kon. You pretty much always have."

"You. Sound like you're saying good-bye," Kon says to the roof.

"I don't want to."

"That isn't a 'no,' Tim."

"No. It isn't."

Kon's silent for a long moment before laughing. A lot. And then he looks at Tim, and the smile on his face is completely real and doesn't get anywhere near his eyes. "You say I don't know you, and you're totally right, man, but I do know enough to know that it's exactly like you to wait to say this stuff until you were about to... do whatever the fuck you're planning."

"I'm not planning anything --"

"And the day I believe that is the day fucking Beast Boy turns blue, asshole." And Kon leans in, arms still crossed, but Tim knows those hands could be on him faster than he could blink. Much faster than he could move.

"Kon --"

"It's not gonna work."

Tim blinks. "What --"

"Whatever it is you're planning. However you plan to drop off the face off the earth. You..." And Kon looks at his mouth, and Tim thinks about mentioning how much of a tell that is, and he thinks about jumping off the roof, and he thinks about the way Kon's tongue feels against his own, slick and hot and palpably strong, and he doesn't think about the way he's moaning, and he doesn't think at all about the way it feels when he cups Kon's face and holds him there.

He can feel Kon's groan in his teeth, and then Kon's arm is around his waist, pulling him in tight, and Kon's other hand is on his cape, gripping it and pulling.

Tim sucks on Kon's tongue and feels greedy, feels helpless and overheated and feels too much.

"It won't work," Kon says again, breathing hard against Tim's mouth, and Tim wonders which of them he's trying to convince.

"Kon --"

"Shut up," Kon says, and kisses him again, and Tim plants his feet and takes it, and it's almost like a punishment. Because it's perfect, and it's hot, and it's maybe killing him, and Tim knows exactly how long ago he could've had this. How many times, and in how many different places, and Tim whimpers and Kon clutches him
harder.

And lets go of the cape to grab Tim's ass instead. Tim gasps into Kon's mouth and feels himself shuddering somewhere deep inside himself where he can't touch and he can't control when Kon bites his lip.

"Any time I asked, Tim?"

"Yes. Kon -- fuck --" And there should be better words for that, better and more -- he can't, because Kon's lifting him and holding him and the armor in Tim's suit doesn't do a thing to keep him from feeling how hard Kon is under his jeans. "Oh, God --"

"I'm asking," Kon says, and licks Tim's ear. "I'm asking you right now."

Tim hears himself moan and tries to keep from thrusting, tries to remember why he isn't thrusting --

"You want it in words, Tim? I want to fuck you. I want --"

And just because he's moaning doesn't mean he can't move. Tim twists and pushes, and Kon lets him go immediately, and Tim drops to his knees.

"Tim --"

And works on Kon's fly. No buckles, no straps, no tights. Just simple jeans and simple boxers under them, and skin under that. Heat and --

"Oh Christ. I didn't -- I didn't mean --"

Tim can hear it in Kon's voice. What he must look like right now, and what Kon probably looks like, and he shouldn't do it like this, he knows -- it has to be just one more way Tim's pushed too hard and too wrong, but Kon feels so good in his hand and he smells dark and sweet and thick and he tastes --

"Tim... Tim --"

"I want you," he says, and it's almost meaningless after everything else. It has to be, but it still makes Kon buck into his fist, makes him --

"Tim, please..."

Kon's hands in his hair and the head of his dick brushing slick and hot over Tim's lips, and licking them just means licking Kon, and Kon bucks again and this time Tim opens his mouth and takes it.

"Fuck, you, I can't..." And Kon groans like it hurts, and Tim has to look up, has to see how wide Kon's eyes are, and the way he's biting his lip and staring at him.

And then Kon strokes the edges of the mask with shaking fingers and Tim moans around Kon's dick and feels himself shooting pre-come into his briefs. And goes down until he's grinding his lips against his own fist.

Kon's knees buckle and he thrusts and Tim moans again and Kon shakes. "Tim. You... oh, fuck please don't stop. Just don't stop..."

He squeezes his eyes shut behind the mask and gropes blindly with his free hand until Kon catches it, until Kon holds on, and it's just like he was always supposed to be doing this. Like Kon was always supposed to be fucking his mouth in short, ragged thrusts that feel as desperate as Tim knows he sounds.

Too good, too much, and Tim whimpers and squeezes Kon's fingers when Kon tightens his other hand in Tim's hair.

He wants to say it. That he won't stop, that he can't, but the only thing he can do is make hungry, strangled, incoherent noise around Kon's dick and suck.

"Oh... fucking God, Tim --"

Yes.

"You feel so good --"

Please, he says with everything he can, with the way his tongue is pressed up against the underside of Kon's dick, and Kon shouts, grunts and pulls Tim's hair and holds his head still.

"I can't -- I have to -- oh fuck I want you, Tim --"

In, pushing, pushing, and Tim can feel Kon needing to fuck his throat, to get all the way in, and he doesn't know if he can do that, and he doesn't want to let go of Kon's dick, because it feels so hot and right in his hand, and he squeezes and sucks and if Kon tightens his hand any more he's going to break Tim's and --

"Fuck -- "

And Kon comes mid-thrust, all over Tim's tongue and the back of his throat, and Tim licks and swallows and isn't sure which of them is moaning until Kon pulls out and stumbles back, and Tim hears himself again.

Hollow and needy and he can't let go of Kon's hand. All he can do is moan and shove his shorts and tights down, pull his jock out of the way, and he can't even stroke. Just squeeze Kon's hand and squeeze himself harder.

"Kon," he says, because he has to.

"Oh, God, you --" And then Kon shakes his hand free and Tim whimpers and Kon's on him, pushing him flat on his back and holding him down with one hand on Tim's chest and the TK, and pulling his tights down further.

He opens his eyes and Kon's staring at him, wide-eyed and wild-eyed and flushed. "Kon," and this time it's just another moan, and another when Kon knocks Tim's hand aside and replaces it with his own.

"You're so hard --"

"Kon --"

"Fuck, say my name again, say it just like --"

"Kon please. Please --"

And Kon winces like he's in pain, like he's the one getting the orgasm pulled out of him by main force, and presses down harder on Tim's chest with his free hand.

"Please, Kon, oh God your hand --"

"Tim..." And Kon strokes him fast and hard and slides his other hand up to Tim's face, up to his mouth. "Don't... don't swallow too much. I want to taste myself in your mouth when I kiss you --"

And Tim groans and arches off the roof and grabs Kon's hand with his own and holds it there so he can suck on Kon's fingers --

"Jesus, Tim --"

And Tim bites Kon's fingertips and comes all over Kon's fist, fucking his way through his own slickness until his brain catches up with the fact that he's whimpering in pain.

He pulls Kon's fingers out of his mouth and breathes.

And then breathes into Kon's mouth, because Kon can move fast when he wants to, when he wants to shove his tongue into Tim's mouth and lick.

Tim whimpers again and opens wide for it, reaching up to wrap his arms around Kon and hold him down against his own body.

"I'm not done, Tim. I'm not..."

Kon kisses him again and shifts until he's straddling Tim's waist, hands on his shoulders and pushing. Tim gasps between kisses, as much as he can. "We --"

"No," Kon says, and sucks on Tim's lower lip hard enough to hurt.

"Inside," Tim says, when he gets a chance, and Kon pushes down harder and fucks Tim's mouth with his tongue and Tim gives up and spreads his legs as much as he can with Kon's thighs bracketing him.

"Yeah," and Kon rolls them over onto their sides and touches him, and it's... it shouldn't feel like so much more after everything they've already done, but it is. Kon strokes his back and squeezes his hip and bites his chin and rolls them back over and grinds down against him --

"Kon -- oh God --"

Hand in his hair again and Kon looks at him, and strokes his other hand over Tim's mask until he finds the lens switch.

Night-vision. Infra-red. White-out. None. Tim blinks up at Kon and breathes. He can taste his own blood on his lip and Kon's come at the back of his tongue.

"You know how long I wanted this, Tim."

"Yes --"

"Now I know how long you wanted this, too."

Tim feels his dick twitch hard and moans. And tilts his head back.

Kon just looks at him for a long moment, and then he leans in and bites Tim's throat, nuzzling the collar of Tim's cape aside and sucking and stroking down Tim's arms until he can catch Tim's wrists and squeeze. And pull them up over Tim's head.

"You... you want to hold me down --"

Kon growls against his skin and bites harder for a second before pulling back. "Tim --"

"I won't -- I'm not going anywhere --"

"I don't believe you," Kon says and bites him again. Almost too hard, and it's much too soon but Tim can feel himself getting hard again.

And he can feel Kon feeling it. "You like this. You -- Tim."

Yes. More. "I want you."

Kon pants against his throat and Tim pushes up -- a little -- against the hands on his wrists. And Kon licks him, slow and wet and back into Tim's mouth. Out and in and it's not a kiss so much as a promise, and Tim arches up into it and moans. "Yeah," Kon says, and lets go, moving back and pulling Tim's tights down even further before stroking up his thighs.

"Kon --"

"I just... I want... take off your cape."

Tim nods jerkily and does it, and when he swallows it feels like he's doing it around his own heart.

"You're so fucking sexy, Tim," Kon says, and squeezes his thighs. "Turn over."

He can't even get the whimper out this time. It's just air. It's just... Tim turns over and Kon strokes up over his ass, strokes his back and pushes him down until he's flat on his stomach. The cape's lining is cool and smooth on his dick and Kon isn't breathing any harder than he is.

"You're so... I can't --"

Kon's hands on his ass again make Tim gasp, make him want to grind down against his own cape. The small, lucid part of his mind is asking in small, clear language what he's doing, but it's the same part that always wanted to remind him what Batman needed, and what Batman needed from him.

There's nothing like that here, and there shouldn't be, and most of him knows that. It has to mean something -- maybe even more than the fact that he can't even remember right now how long he's wanted this. He doesn't know -- he can't wrap his mind around it in more than small, half-connected flashes of image and sensation. What he must look like half-stripped on his stomach.

The way they're not really even doing anything right now, but Kon's still moaning on every other breath, like just touching his legs and his back and his ass is something... something as amazing as it feels.

"Kon," he says, and hopes it sounds
encouraging. He's never been any good at dealing with people touching him, even when he wants it, and he's never sure what
messages he sends, but Kon's hands settle on his hips and tighten hard.

"Tim. You..."

"Please."

Kon makes a small, hurt-sounding noise and squeezes Tim's hips again before leaning in. Hot breath on the back of his neck and... it isn't weight. Kon's hardly touching him at all. But he's over him. So close. So... much. "Tim."

"Yes."

Kon kisses the back of his neck, slow and wet and messy, and Tim breathes and shudders and presses his forehead against his cape, trying to push his neck against Kon's mouth. "God, Tim. I want... I want you." And Kon makes a frustrated sound and moves back down his body.

Tim thinks Kon's kissing him, but he's still in the tunic and he can't tell for sure. He's never wanted to be naked so much in his life. And then -- "Oh --" His body can't decide if Kon's lips feel soft or hard. His tongue is wet, ticklish at the base of Tim's spine, and Tim doesn't realize he's squirming until Kon's hands tighten on his hips again.

"Don't -- just let me --"

"Kon, you --" Can do anything, he was going to say, but it comes out on a noise that can't decide whether to be a moan or a yell, because Kon's licking him. Down his cleft and up again and Tim feels himself tensing all over.

Kon holds him tight and licks him again. Again --

"Don't stop. Please don't -- oh God --" He can't decide if it's better to hear Kon moaning or to feel it, and then 'deciding' anything is a just a little too advanced, because Kon shoves his tongue in, and it feels -- he hasn't --

Gasping when Kon pulls out, and his mouth hurts and that's when Tim knows he's biting his tongue. "Oh God, Kon --"

In again, so slow, so wet, and Tim claws at his own cape and tries to push up into it, but Kon won't let him. He whimpers and bites his lip and he thinks he might be shaking. And then he definitely is, because Kon isn't teasing anymore.

He was teasing, that was just -- but now Kon's fucking him like this, with his tongue, holding him down and making him -- making him -- "Kon --"

And Tim knows Kon's saying something, and he's not even whispering, but everything's drowned out by the feel of it, Kon's lips and tongue moving against him, and it's nothing he expected and nothing he'd ever thought he'd want, and the cape is sticky and wet under him with his own pre-come and --

"Kon, I can't --" Stop. Believe you want this. "I -- please --"

"Come for me," Kon says, and his voice is low and rough and breathless and he --

In again, stabbing him, fucking him, holding him, grinding him down against his own cape and Tim squeezes his eyes shut and pants. He sounds like an animal. He sounds like he's dying, and Tim feels himself blushing and tries to say something, anything, but the only thing that comes out is noise. One moan after another after another, one for every push of Kon's tongue, and every moment that he can't think anything but 'Kon wants this, wants me, Kon --'

Has him.

And Tim doesn't know what he'll do when Kon lets go. "Please," he says, again, and Kon groans and the vibration of it rolls right through him.

And then Kon kisses him, and Tim comes shaking.

Moaning when Kon lets go of one of his hips and slides his hand between Tim's body and the cape. Touching him and sliding through Tim's come and giving his dick a squeeze that makes him whimper.

"Tim..." And Kon's stroking his thigh again.

He feels sticky and sweaty and used and there has to be a way he can get that not to stop. "Yeah."

"Could you..." Kon squeezes his thigh and moans quietly. "God. Just... turn over again. On your back. Please?"

He does, and Kon's just... he'd never done up his pants again. He's hard, and stroking himself, and Tim's blushing so hard he's sweating, and he doesn't know where to look.

"Fuck, Tim."

Kon looks just as confused as he feels, only hungrier. "I want..." Too many things to think, let alone say. Tim sits up instead, and Kon meets him halfway and pulls him up, kissing him and still... God. Still jerking himself off between them.

He doesn't have anything intelligent to say to that, either. He settles for cupping Kon's face and kissing him back, kissing him harder and pressing as close he can. The brush of Kon's knuckles against his stomach makes him moan, or maybe it's just the fact that Kon tastes like him.

Or maybe it's just the way that Kon isn't closing his eyes.

The way Kon's looking at him, like he expects Tim to disappear or something and he needs to see absolutely everything, every moment before he does.

Tim doesn't want to disappear, and he doesn't know how to say that, either, especially since it isn't really the point. He reaches between them and... they're really too close for it to be anything but awkward, but Kon whimpers into his mouth when Tim's thumb brushes over the head of his dick, so he just keeps doing that.

"Tim," Kon says, and it feels like a million questions at once, and it feels soft and hot and messy like the way Kon's dragging his mouth over Tim's face before resting his forehead against Tim's own and jerking himself faster.

There are so many promises he wants to make, but the only ones he can aren't good enough. He strokes Kon's face and pushes in closer so that Kon's knuckles move against his stomach with almost bruising force. His fingers are sticky with Kon's pre-come and he wants more kisses. He wants them to be anywhere but this stupid roof, or at least somewhere that they won't have to stop soon.

He wants to suck his own fingers and he wants to suck Kon again and he wants --

He digs the fingers of his free hand into the muscle of Kon's shoulder and tries to regulate the rhythm of his breathing, tries to inhale on every one of Kon's exhales, and it sort of works. He's not getting enough oxygen, and he thinks the breathless, dazed feeling is maybe close enough to whatever Kon's
feeling that makes him sound like that. Like every moan hurts.

"I don't... want to come yet."

Tim presses harder on the head of Kon's dick with his thumb.

Kon tenses and shakes. "Tim --"

"I want you to."

"I don't want to stop. I don't --"

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, before he can stop himself, before he can think, and Kon pulls back and looks at him, and he's supposed to say he means it. He's supposed to be able to say that -- "Kon --"

"Tonight," and Kon kisses him again, and pushes them back down to the roof, and pulls their hands out from between them, thrusting and grinding down and not breaking the kiss for long enough for Tim to catch more than short gasps of air.

More than that. He wants more than that, but it's easy to focus on just wrapping his legs around Kon's waist and holding on, to swallow every moan and feel Kon, hard against him and clinging like maybe no one had taught him how to hide.

He wants to learn how not to hide. That's the point, only he should be able to do it and have this, too. He clutches at Kon's short hair and sucks hard on Kon's tongue and tries to say all of it, as much of it as he can, and Kon doesn't stop kissing him even after he comes.

Tim doesn't pull back until he can feel the blood pounding in his ears.

It feels like getting away with something to gasp like this with Kon watching. With Kon on and over him, holding him down with nothing but his weight.

"I'm not done," Kon says, and it's a completely different tone of voice from before.

Tim knows he isn't talking about right now. And... "I know."

Kon exhales hard against the skin of Tim's throat and squeezes Tim's chest. "I... know you know. But, Tim --"

Kon moans against the fingers Tim has pressed to his mouth, and it takes a lot not to just... he shakes it off as best he can. "It's okay --"

And Kon growls and moves to straddle him again, one hand pressed to the center of Tim's chest and the other cupping Tim's jaw. Making him look. "It's not okay, Tim. We're not..."

He wonders what it feels like for Kon. If looking at whatever's in Tim's eyes right now feels as... as big as looking at what's in Kon's eyes. He swallows.

"Tim... whatever else we are... we are friends. And I'm not... you're not supposed to let friends go."

He could say something about he isn't planning on going anywhere, and it's actually the truth. But it's also stupid and meaningless, because a part of Tim can feel it. It. Whatever it will be that finally breaks him between his family and his family.

And it's painfully obvious that Kon can feel it, too.

"I'm not. I don't know what to say."

Kon presses down on his chest, a little, and smiles ruefully. "Yeah. I didn't think you would." And then he rolls off and stands, and it shouldn't be depressing to watch Kon pull his pants up.

There are so many things wrong with his priorities. He shakes his head and fixes his own clothes, wincing at the mess. The cape will hide most of the problem, but... he's really definitely going to have to do his own laundry this time.

And he needs to take a shower pretty much --

As soon as Kon stops kissing him. As soon as he can convince his body not to react the way it wants to the force of it, and the way Kon is holding his head. Both hands in Tim's hair and just...

The word 'possessive' comes to mind, with a big, blinking question mark. He has no idea how he feels about that -- no. He has way too many ideas.

"Kon --"

"You're gonna remember that," he says, and it's an order as much as everything else.

"I'm going to remember a lot of things."

Kon tightens his hands in his hair, and leans in again, and Tim opens his mouth and Kon licks him. "I love hearing you gasp like that."

"Kon."

"Yeah." He slides his hands out of Tim's hair, down to his shoulders.

"I don't." He can look at the 's.' He can look at Kon's throat, where he's still a little flushed, where the skin is still a little shiny with sweat. He can look Kon in the eye and just... "I don't want you to stop touching me."

Kon blinks and squeezes his shoulders. "You don't actually want us to make it inside, do you?"

"Well..." He smiles, more at Kon's shoulder than anything else. "There are rooms in there. Flat surfaces that probably won't draw blood."

Kon snorts, but there isn't much humor in it, not even when he strokes his way down Tim's chest, pushing the cape aside. "How much... how long do we have?"

"I don't actually know yet."

Kon rubs his chest a little harder, frowning. "Part of me thinks I should just fly us to some empty island and keep you there for as long as I can."

It's a tempting image, the way a really good dream is good, right up until you wake up and realize none of it makes sense. "And the rest of you?"

"The rest of me thinks..." He traces the 'R' on Tim's tunic. "That I should just go with it, and try not to think about the fact that you just might not show up next weekend, or the
weekend after that. Christ. I can't even imagine... your parents are going to kill you, man."

Tim grins. "If I'm lucky."

Kon shakes his head. "You have to tell the others what's going on."

"I know."

"I still can't believe you actually told me." And Kon looks at him, and Tim keeps his head up and lets him.

This is why I didn't say anything. This is who you are to me. He watches Kon breathe and doesn't say any of it any more than he already has.

Kon shakes his head again and pulls back -- just far enough to put an arm around Tim's shoulders.

Maybe that's the secret. Maybe all he had to do was say it. The thought is no more
mind-boggling and embarrassing than everything else. He leans into the touch and lets Kon lead them back toward the roof access door.

"Yeah, so. I don't actually know what the fuck I should be doing, Tim."

"Neither do I."

"Uh, huh. So you're winging it. Fucking on rooftops, talking about your feelings... the world's pretty much gonna end soon, right?"

"Maybe." Maybe mine. And there's no way in hell he's going to say that.

Kon tightens the hold he has on Tim's
shoulders and stops in front of the door. "I'm not letting you go, Tim."

Convince me. "Okay."

Kon opens the door with his free hand and pushes Tim in front of him. And doesn't, actually, let go of him for more than a few seconds at a time. Sooner or later someone is going to ask about that, especially if Kon keeps it up where people can see them, but...

It's late, and the only sound in the Tower is the hum of machinery and a handful of voices in the TV room, and there's no one but them in this hallway.

"I promise," Kon says, with casual assurance, and rubs his thumb across the back of Tim's neck just over his collar, over and over.

Tim pushes back against Kon's hand and works on being convinced.

end.

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Fandom:  Teen Titans
Title:  And take me worlds away
Author:  Te   [email]   [website]
Details:  Standalone  |  NC-17  |  *slash*  |  37k  |  04/20/04
Characters:  Tim, Kon
Pairings:  Tim/Kon
Summary:  Tim and Kon have an actual conversation. And then they have sex.

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