And sometimes discerned
by Weirdness Magnet and Te
August 3, 2004
Disclaimers: If they were ours, you wouldn't see us very often.
Spoilers: Vague -- very vague -- mentions of events in Impulse and Teen Titans.
Summary: Bart knows what he wants. Tim's helpful. Kon approves.
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Authors' Note: Te's not entirely sure how this happened. Weirdness Magnet recalls that sock puppets were involved in its creation, and is still somewhat traumatized.
Title from a James Baldwin quote:
"Identity would seem to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self: in which case, it is best that the garment be loose, a little like the robes of the desert, through which one's nakedness can always be felt, and, sometimes, discerned. This trust in one's nakedness is all that gives one the power to change one's robes."
In a lot of ways, having a hyperspeed metabolism completely sucks.
Getting notes sent home from his teachers because he can't sit still in class is an annoyance more than anything else, because Grandpa Jay understands, but he still doesn't like the disapproving looks his teachers give him. Having to eat what seems like every few minutes isn't easy either, and he feels a guilty pang every time he thinks about that receipt he found from the last time Grandma Joan went grocery shopping.
"I don't try to fill the boy up," Bart overheard her tell Jay once. "I just try to keep him from starving." She was putting away a massive pile of groceries that Bart knows they really couldn't afford and there was a grin in her voice. Bart makes a note to do something really nice for her next Mother's Day.
The healing factor is the biggest annoyance. Had Vic not hauled metallic ass to get Bart to the hospital, his knee might have healed back completely wrong. As it was, it had only partially healed back wrong in the time it had taken to get from Alcatraz.
And a high pain threshold doesn't actually make up for the fact that the doctors cut into Bart's leg and replaced his kneecap. The metabolism that made the cutting necessary also meant that no amount of drugs in the world could make it hurt less.
To top it off, his stupid metabolism meant his tattoo lasted all of thirty seconds.
Though, looking back, Bart thinks he probably shouldn't have gotten a Green Lantern symbol. The logic of his choice made sense to him at the time, but tattoos are supposed to have meaning. He's read about how tattoos in some primitive cultures reveal the entire life of a person, marks of authority and social rank. And while he doesn't exactly have rank, he figures that if he gets a permanent mark on his body it ought to at least have personal significance.
It's irrelevant, anyway; his immune system instantly attacks anything it identifies as "foreign." No tattoo, scar, or piercing will last on him.
Bart sits at his desk and pulls out the doodle he started in math class. He'd really like to get this design done. He thought about getting it on his lower back, but he liked watching the artist work when he'd gotten the Lantern done.
And the sketch... Kon's shield with the yellow "R" of Robin's uniform at the center, but with Bart's own jagged lightning bolt as the long line of the "R." He likes the idea of watching this design take shape, line and shading appearing beneath the thin sheen of his blood.
He ignores his math homework in favor digging through a drawer for his colored pencils. He only has the basic colors here, but it's enough to give the sketch some depth. He's not much of an artist; he's read dozens of books on technique, but he can never make the colors come out exactly right. Tim can do amazing things with the most basic art supplies. Bart debates the pros of asking him how to do shading properly against the cons of possibly having to explain why he wants to know.
He's almost finished coloring in the red shield when he feels something move behind him. Tim has warned him about sitting with his back to the door, but it's the Tower for god's sake, and of all the dangers he's going to face as Kid Flash, he figures a very small percentage of them will be in his bedroom.
He still jumps when he turns his head and Tim is right there, peering over his shoulder. "Man, don't do that."
Tim makes a noncommittal noise and a quiet, "Sorry," but he's not paying attention to Bart. He's... looking at the drawing.
And... it's nothing to be ashamed of, Bart tells himself. It's just a drawing, and not a very good one either, but Tim is looking at it so intently it makes Bart blush anyway. He looks at his desk and twirls the pencil between his fingers and swings his feet, and specifically doesn't look at Tim.
A green gauntlet comes into his view anyway, reaching past him. Tim touches the paper, stroking it a little, gloved fingertips tracing the lightning bolt, and says, "Hm."
"It's nothing," Bart mutters, and why is his face so hot? "Just... I got bored in class."
"Hm," Tim says again.
"It's a tattoo. I was thinking of, um. Getting."
That gets him an eyebrow quirk.
And for some reason Bart can't shut up because, "I thought this time I'd get something more meaningful. Tattoos are supposed to mean stuff. Like the one Raven got really fit her, symbolically. And I started thinking about symbols that mean something to me and the only ones I could think of were, uh--" Ours, he doesn't say, and he tries to look at Tim, but Tim is looking at him and his face is unreadable but it makes the flush shoot to Bart's cheeks.
"Tattoos don't last on you." There's a question that Tim isn't asking, and Bart doesn't know if it's because Tim wants Bart to tell him, or if he's just reminding Bart that yes, he's an idiot.
Only, Tim hasn't treated him like he was Impulse since he read the library. So.
"I know." Bart fidgets some more. "But I'd like to get it done anyway, just 'cause. Y'know, I'd know it had been there."
And he doesn't look up, but he can feel Tim thinking hard and looking at him. When Tim thinks, there's a very obvious weight in the room, like Tim needs to use up all the oxygen to figure out whatever he's pondering and everyone can breathe again when he's done.
He doesn't ponder whatever it was long, though, because Tim is suddenly gone in a flutter of cape.
Bart exhales slowly and is thinking about all the ways he can avoid his math homework some more (he still hasn't started work on the miniature roller coaster, or the upgrades of his computer back home, or --) when Tim reappears, holding a box of permanent markers from Gar's stash of art supplies. Bart swivels his chair around and tries to read whatever Tim's expression is supposed to mean. And fails.
"What're those for?"
Tim actually shifts slightly from foot to foot before pulling out a handful of pens. "We could see how it would look."
Bart looks at the pens, looks at Tim, and clues in hard. "Oh. Oh. You'd... but it'll wash off."
"Eventually." Tim gives him a tiny smile. "But I can always draw it again, if you want me to."
Tim looks at him and nods.
And one of the good things about the speed is that he can hug anyone he wants to before they can do anything about it.
Tim shakes his head a little and pulls up the other chair. "Where do you want it?"
Bart doesn't have to think about that at all, just whips off his shirt and presents his shoulder. There's no way he could have Tim drawing on him and not watch.
And Tim is exactly as good at this as Bart thought he'd be, because he uses three shades of red just on the shield lines. He cups Bart's bicep in one hand, pauses, makes Bart turn in the seat until their knees are just touching and the light falls more fully on Bart's shoulder, and draws slowly, glancing occasionally at Bart's sketch for guidance and nothing else.
It's pretty fascinating to watch, even beyond what he'd thought it would be like. It isn't that Tim ever doesn't apply that kind of obsessive, perfect focus -- to anything -- it's just...
It's just really kind of compelling when that focus is on him. Enough that he doesn't actually notice Kon leaning in the doorway until he's pretty sure that Kon has been there for a while. His arms are folded across his chest and he's looking vaguely curious and definitely amused. But when Tim silently holds up the sketch so Kon can see what he's doing, Kon's expression just...
It just softens, and he's obviously recognized the design, and the blush creeps back into Bart's cheeks. And then he's blushing even more, because Kon shifts a little, and he's looking at them, and the expression on his face now is this weird mix of touched, amused, and... turned on. And he doesn't look like he has any intention of leaving the doorway.
Bart swallows and fidgets -- a little -- and Tim clutches his arm more tightly. "Hold still."
Bart wants to point out that Kon is sort of leering at them, but he also doesn't want to do anything that might break Tim's concentration. So he doesn't, which kind of means the full of effect of Kon's really, seriously warm gaze is on him. He occasionally looks Bart up and down and then moves, like maybe his jeans are uncomfortable.
And Tim doesn't seem to notice it, but after a while he pauses, mid-bolt, and says, "If you make me mess this up, Kon, I will hurt you."
And Bart... doesn't really want to think about that, because it makes him think about how tight his own jeans are getting. It makes Bart need to move, but he can't with Tim drawing on his arm. It's getting to be a kind of torture, too, with the tip of the pens tracing delicately along his arm, long lines and little flicks to get the shading right, and Bart needs to move soon.
Tim can tell. He squeezes Bart's bicep, strokes with his thumb. "I'll be done soon."
"I need..." Bart bites his lip. "I need to run a few hundred laps around the building. Can we finish this in a minute?"
Tim's brow furrows as he draws. "I'm not at a good stopping point. Right now it looks like you've got magic marker on your arm."
Bart blinks. "I do have magic marker on my arm."
"It won't look that way when I'm done." Tim looks at Bart, serious and steady with just the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Just right there, like Kon's right over there, and Bart isn't sure what look is on his face, but it makes Tim stroke his arm again.
And he can see Kon shifting again out of the corner of his eye.
"Um -- I think --"
"Soon," Tim says, like he's willing Bart to believe it, and Bart grabs Tim's knee without thinking and squeezes. He hears Kon's breathing get a little rough. He hadn't realized he was paying attention to Kon's breathing.
"Okay. I mean. Okay." Bart tries to sit still and think about anything besides the way Kon is looking at them, or the way that Tim totally doesn't seem to mind that Bart hasn't let go of his knee. He thinks, maybe, some of the moving he needs to do he can do like this. Just rub Tim's knee -- he's already turned enough that it isn't too awkward -- and maybe his thigh.
Bart doesn't let his hand go too far up Tim's leg, because... well, because, and Kon is standing right there. But he does move his hand up and down some, and the moving does calm him down a little, until Kon makes this noise and no, Bart will not look at him. He squeezes his eyes shut hard, once, and looks at the progress Tim is making on his arm.
And it... it looks good. Of course Tim could make it look good, because he's Tim, but when Bart twists his head enough, he can see how the upper left corner doesn't look like marker at all.
"Oh. Tim, it's so cool."
He looks up to see the twitchy little smile, and it's there, but Tim's face is also a little flushed below the mask. And...
His fingers keep skating higher and higher -- they've been skating higher and higher -- on Tim's thigh, even though he doesn't really mean to, even though he knows he probably shouldn't. Tim's tights are smooth and his thigh is hard beneath the fabric. Not as warm as Bart is, and even though he knows it has more to do with the fact that Tim isn't a speedster than anything else, it makes him rub a little harder. Makes him need to.
Technically, he probably does need to rub harder because Tim wears body armor, and it's probably hard to feel a light touch through it. It's the reason that Vic can give Tim a good solid clap on the shoulder and not break every bone in his arm.
It makes it okay to rub harder.
Tim doesn't seem to notice it -- except maybe the skin beneath his mask is a little pinker -- but Tim just frowns at the markers like he's debating which shade to use next.
"God," Kon says from the doorway, and Bart flinches, and flinches again, because Tim is holding the gold marker steady a full inch away from Bart's skin and glaring, a little.
"Kon," Tim says, and it's the I-can-hurt-you voice, and Bart squeezes Tim's thigh reflexively.
"Dude, I know, but --"
"Let me finish."
Kon mutters something that sounds like, "Finish right here," and it feels really good to squeeze Tim's thigh.
Even though Bart can't look at either of them right now, because Kon's voice sounds almost pained, and Tim is blushing. Bart's hand is really pretty high up Tim's thigh and he thinks he should probably do something about that. All he does manage is to close his eyes and loosen his death grip on Tim's leg.
He's almost sure that was the right choice, but Kon sighs, and Tim... moves.
A little, and so little that it doesn't seem like anything. There's nowhere near enough data for Bart to think "he doesn't want me to stop" as opposed to "he's just shifting a little," but he does. He doesn't just think it, he knows it.
And then he really knows it, because tightening his grip again by reflex makes Tim sigh in a completely different way than Kon did. And Kon says,
"God, yeah --"
And Tim says, "Kon," in that dangerous voice that's maybe not about hurting Kon as much as...
Bart blinks. They're about to have sex. They're really... "Are we hitting on each other? I just want to be sure."
Bart thinks he can hear Kon blink, and Tim takes a really careful breath, and it's enough for Bart to realize that yeah, they are, and maybe they aren't quite sure how they feel about that. Bart isn't quite sure how he feels about it either, except... it feels really good and Tim's leg is hard beneath his hand and Kon is watching them. It doesn't take much of anything for Bart to slide his hand over the tiny bit to stop touching Tim's leg and start touching Tim, and he's hard there, too.
Okay, so Tim is wearing armor there, but Bart can still feel how much hotter he is behind it.
"Bart..." Tim's voice is hesitant, and he never sounds hesitant, and that's just. "Oh," he says when Bart squeezes, only it's less a word than a moan, and he's just holding the red marker in the air like he can't remember what he was doing with it.
"Jesus, Bart." Kon's voice isn't hesitant at all. It's low and throaty and when Bart looks at him again, he's cupping himself through his jeans and that would be the best idea ever if Bart actually had a free hand.
There's no way he's moving the one he's got on Tim, who looks exactly like someone who has their eyes closed behind a mask.
He could have a free hand if he could get Tim to let go of his arm. Bart has his doubts about the likelihood of that happening, though, because the first time Bart gives Tim a solid rub with the heel of his hand, Tim's grip on Bart's bicep tightens almost painfully. It still doesn't feel as tight as Tim's mouth looks.
"Tim," Bart says. "Put the marker down."
Tim breathes sharply and sort of comes back into himself, and Bart guesses that his eyes are open again, because Tim turns towards Kon. Who's still leaning in the doorway and rubbing himself through his jeans.
And Tim says, "Oh," and very carefully sets the pen aside.
"Yeah," Kon says, and reaches back to slam the door closed without looking away from him. From them.
Tim's legs are... God, spread. Not too wide apart, but still wider than they have to be. His mouth is open, and he's not making any sound, but he's breathing in a really, deep, noticeable way. A part of Bart's mind is cataloguing stress/arousal reactions he remembers from Full Catastrophe Living, and that's probably what distracts him enough that he jumps at the feel of Kon's hand in his hair.
Because Kon is suddenly right there. "God, I'd forgotten how soft your hair is, Bart..."
And Tim is moving into his hand. Sharp, subtle little pushes with his hips like he wants --
Bart hears himself moan and swallows and tries to say something, but Kon bends down and kisses him, deep and wet, and Bart twitches, flexes, he can't help it, and Tim moans.
Which makes Bart have to squeeze Tim gently through the armor, have to rub Tim there while Kon is doing... really inventive things with his tongue along the edges of Bart's teeth. Kon tightens his fist in Bart's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat. Bart turns his face away and Kon dives in, biting and sucking that sensitive pulse-point in his neck.
He can see Tim this way, see the flush creeping all the way into Tim's hairline and his bottom lip looking bitten and wet. It doesn't seem fair. *He should be the one to make Tim's mouth look like that. Tim still has Bart's bicep in one hand, and one solid tug drags Tim close enough to kiss.
Tim tastes like Vic's coffee and he kisses like he was never hesitant about anything at all, like it was some kind of marker-fume-induced
hallucination on Bart's part. He takes Bart's mouth and covers Bart's hand with his own, and his gauntlet is cool and rough and Bart isn't sure which one of them is making him moan.
He figures it out when Kon bites him, but knowing doesn't actually help anything, because -- "More, I want more --"
"Yes, fuck, Bart," Kon says, and shoves his hand between Bart's legs. Tim squeezes his hand, forcing Bart to rub him harder and bites Bart's lip, and says,
Bart has to close his eyes and moan, because he wants this and they want this, and his brain is going to break. Just shatter into a thousand useless little bits that can't register anything except hot and yes, and then break some more because Kon is rubbing down his whole length through his pants and squeezing his balls.
And because Tim is dragging Bart's hand inside his tights. His skin is soft and warm, and Bart can feel wetness because Tim is leaking and this is going to drive Bart insane.
"Oh God, Bart, you're..." Kon groans and squeezes him hard, too hard or not hard enough, he can't tell.
"Kon --" He has no idea what he was going to say, because there's a clatter and when he opens his eyes Gar's markers are scattered all over the floor and Tim has his head thrown back.
"Fuck, look at him," Kon says, and he does, he can't not do it, just like he can't stop working his hips for Kon.
Bart shudders. "Oh, he's so sexy like this, I --" and the rest comes out on a yelp, because Kon bites his nipple hard and growls against his chest before shoving his free hand back into Bart's hair and making him look at him again.
"Tell me. How he feels."
Bart looks at Tim again, he has to. Tim's cheeks are flushed so dark it looks almost dangerous, and he's gasping, over and over, in the exact same rhythm that Bart's using on his dick.
"He's... his skin is so soft, and he's so hard--"
Kon squeezes him again. "Harder than you?"
"I don't know," Bart gasps, "but he's wet, and..." A really good thought runs through his mind, and he doesn't want to let go of Tim, but... it's a really good idea. He pulls his hand out of Tim's tights and presses his wet fingers into Kon's mouth. "See?"
He can hear Tim whimpering, and that's so incredible it should probably be illegal, but it's nothing to the way Kon's eyes widen in shock for just a second before he takes his hand out of Bart's hair and grabs Bart's wrist in an iron grip and shoves Bart's fingers deep into his own mouth.
"Oh God Kon that's so hot I can't --"
Keep talking, because Tim grabs Bart's chin and kisses him again, and he'd only thought the first kiss was amazing, because this one is hard and hungry, almost brutal. Tim's mouth is hard and Kon's mouth is wet and hot around his fingers and Kon's still squeezing his cock and Bart screams into Tim's mouth and comes, white flare behind his eyes and Tim's tongue stabbing him, stroking him --
"Fuck yeah," and Kon's still holding Bart's fingers close to his own mouth, close enough that Bart can feel his breath. Tim pulls back slowly, eyes obviously narrow even though he has the mask on.
Tim turns and looks down and says, "Kon," in that do-this-now voice, and Bart's about to ask, but then he's on the floor, on his back, and he doesn't have any questions at all.
He just watches Kon yanking his own jeans open -- ripping them open -- and shoving them off with his shorts. He doesn't even take his t-shirt off before he's braced on the floor over Bart, leaning in and swallowing all the noises Bart's still making.
Blocking his view, but Bart can hear Tim moving, fabric rustling and the metallic clank of the belt hitting the floor. Kon works Bart's pants open one-handed, but then there's fumbling and that's Tim dragging them down his hips, and Tim's hands... Tim's hands are bare and that means that Tim is probably naked and Bart can't see and he needs to.
He grabs Kon's shoulders and pushes, and Kon grunts into his mouth before breaking the kiss. "What? Are you --" But then he follows where Bart's looking. "Oh, fuck."
Tim's stripped down to nothing but the mask, kneeling and leaning in, and then Kon grabs him and Tim's right next to him. And naked. And smiling this tiny smile at Bart and saying, "Hi."
And then he looks back up at Kon and raises an eyebrow and Bart looks, too, and... yeah. Kon looks like --
"You can't actually straddle both of us at once, Kon."
Kon plants one hand on Tim's abdomen and the other on Bart's and pushes, just a little. And smirks, and strokes his way up. "No?"
"You're not that flexible," Tim says, and Bart snorts because it's true, but it's absolutely not important when considered with the fact that Tim's right there and Bart doesn't have his hands on him yet.
Which is something he needs to fix, like now. It's easy enough to wrap a hand around Kon, and the angle is a little awkward, but he can get a grip on Tim, too, and then it's like the easiest, best thing ever to make them both gasp at the same time. If he wasn't flat on his back with a naked Tim pressed against him, Bart would do a victory dance.
Definitely needs to do a victory dance when Tim gasps and bucks into Bart's fist.
And possibly the victory watusi when Kon curses and shoves one hand into Tim's hair and Tim groans and Kon kisses him, deep and wet and messy and fast. It's getting harder for Bart to keep rhythm on their cocks because Kon grunts into his mouth on every upstroke and Tim licks him on every downstroke and he can't keep track of what his hands are supposed to be doing.
He's hard again, and he absolutely can't stop, he won't, not even when Tim wraps his hard, sweaty hand around Bart's dick and says, "Bart," so softly.
Bart can't remember ever feeling Tim's bare hand touching him, and certainly never like this. Rough calluses and perfect rhythm, the same rhythm he's using, and he has to tighten his grip and pump them harder. Tim matches that rhythm, too, and Kon thrusts into his hand and groans into his mouth.
Bart thumbs the slit and plays experimentally with the edge of Kon's foreskin. He knows he's doing something right when Kon buries his face into Bart's neck and whimpers, "Oh shit, oh yeah, fuck..." and that just makes Bart buck into Tim's hand.
"Please," he whispers. He doesn't know really what he's asking for, just that he wants this and he wants more, even though he doesn't know how this could get better.
"Yes," Tim breathes in his ear, and speeds his hand on Bart's cock.
Bart helplessly matches the rhythm, and Kon shudders and fucks his hand and says,
"Yes," strangled and low, and Bart feels a hot splash on his hip.
He slows his hand on Kon, leaves it wrapped loosely around him and likes the way the light touch makes Kon shudder all over. But Tim's biting little marks on Bart's shoulder and bucking into his fist. His face is flushed around the mask and Tim has never looked so... so. He hears himself moaning and he has to jack Tim faster.
And Kon's making soft, satisfied noises, snugged up against Bart's side with a leg thrown over Bart's own. And then Kon bites his nipple hard enough to make Bart yelp, before nibbling and sucking and running his free hand down Bart's stomach, bumping against Tim's --
And Tim's panting, every other breath coming out on a growl and Kon slides his hand lower, petting and playing with his balls, and oh god, Bart loves that. He bites his lip and arches and squeezes Tim's cock.
"Bart," Tim's voice sounds almost pained. "Yes --"
And Bart can't make words anymore, just moans and gasps as he pumps into the hands playing with him, making him need, making him come, and Tim's already coming in his fist and the hands on his cock and balls won't stop and he never, ever wants them to.
Not even when he screams and curls halfway off the floor when he comes. He wants to hold them both here so they can't leave him, but he can't even see. He's pretty sure it's Kon who catches his head so he doesn't get a concussion when he falls back on the floor, but he can't really tell. Or care.
His eyes aren't working, but he can feel Tim moving, and he wants to protest, but Tim moves over him, so Bart guesses that's okay. And then Tim kisses his stomach and his mouth is warm and wet, and that's very okay.
"Bart," Kon's voice is hoarse. "You have to see this."
He manages to get one eye open, and then he has to curl himself up again and brace himself on his elbows and look, because Tim's licking at the pool of Kon's come on his hip. "Tim..."
Tim sits back on his knees, lifting Bart's sticky hand and looking at him. Not smiling, but... his tongue is pink and shaped like a blade and darting over Bart's fingers, and Bart has no idea what he was going to say.
And then Tim gives Bart's hand a final squeezes and raises his own hand and licks that clean.
Kon looks about as incoherent at Bart feels. "Okay, either that's insanely hot or we're all perverts."
"Both," Bart announces. Tim's eyes just narrow behind the mask, and Bart's never seen anyone who could look that smug without so much as a mouth twitch.
But then he just looks hot again, because Kon is kissing him hard, almost angrily, cupping Tim's face right up until Tim knocks his hand away and turns them. Just enough that Bart can see them both clearly, and see that Kon is licking Tim's mouth. And that had to be on purpose, but that isn't even the hottest thing.
"Kon, can you taste us? All of us --"
Kon groans and winces like he's hurt, reaching out blindly until Bart catches his hand, and then pulling Bart up onto his knees and kissing him, too. Trying to kiss both of them at the same time, and it's clumsy and wet and it all hits in a crazy endless series of images: the curled-up corner of Tim's mouth and the swipe of Kon's tongue over it, and over his own mouth, and Tim's swollen lips and Kon's teeth. Bart thinks he wants to spend at least a year of subjective time doing just this, until they get it right, or at least until all of them come again.
Which could be sooner than he would've thought, because Bart's dick twitches hard when Kon's thigh brushes against it, and Bart groans and clutches at both of them.
Kon pulls off slightly and glances down. "Already?"
"Not even," he says and shoves Bart right back down.
"Hey -- oh --"
Kon's mouth had felt incredible on just his fingers so Bart should've known Kon would give head like he'd given a lot of thought to technique. And he thinks maybe he's going to spend a lot of time thinking about Kon thinking about blowjob technique, but mostly he isn't so much thinking as gasping, because Kon hums around his cock like it's the best treat ever. And Tim's staring down at both of them with a completely unreadable look on his face --
Which is suddenly perfectly readable, because Tim pushes Kon off and sucks Bart into his own mouth.
Kon says, "When did you get so oral, dude? Next time share that information."
Yeah, Bart tries to say, but it comes out, "nnyargh," when Tim swallows around him. And then all the words are gone again, because Kon is sucking on two of his own fingers. He gives Bart a devious look before pulling them out wetly and lowering them to Tim's ass, which is sticking up unceremoniously in the air.
And Tim groans around his cock, and Bart can tell Tim's eyes are closed behind the mask. He can't see everything Kon is doing, just the movement of his shoulder hinting that he's inside Tim, they both are, and that's... too hot for human comprehension. Bart reaches down and strokes Tim's face with his fingertips.
"Tim, you -- are you okay? You feel..." Hot. Sweaty-soft and hot around his cock. "God, you feel really good..."
Tim makes a low sound that Bart interprets as an affirmative with the one percent of his brain that isn't devoted to melting. Kon lets out a low chuckle and bends down, and now Bart can't see him, but he can hear the wet sound of Kon... licking. Licking Tim there, maybe around his own fingers, and Tim whimpers and Bart groans and pulses pre-come into Tim's mouth.
Tim whimpers and sucks him harder, hips moving with Kon's fingers and tongue, and suddenly Bart's positive Tim's using the same rhythm on his cock that Kon is using on Tim's ass, and Bart can't... it's too much to look at Tim doing this to him. Bart closes his eyes and lets his head fall back on the floor.
Rocks up into Tim's mouth and tries to catch his breath, think, something, but Tim pushes a finger in. Bart yelps and digs his fingers into Tim's hair, but Tim just moves his finger in and out, hot and strange, and all Bart can do is spread his legs wider.
"Please, oh please yes..."
But Tim moans and pulls off and stops. Bart opens his eyes and raises his head to see Kon kneeling up again, staring down at Tim and thrusting his fingers hard into Tim's ass, and he must be... he's got to be hitting Tim there, because Bart's sure Tim's eyes are squeezed shut and he's moving with each sharp twist of Kon's hand.
Tim is beautiful like this.
Looking at him makes Bart whimper and flex around Tim's still finger inside him, but Tim is completely distracted by what Kon is doing to him, gasping for breath with Bart's dick painting his cheek with pre-come every time he bumps against it.
"Tim," Bart moans, "please don't stop, please..."
He hears a wet sound and Kon moves over Tim, pressing against his back. Bart sees the flex of his shoulder -- he's still moving inside Tim -- but he leans in to whisper in Tim's ear.
"Don't stop, Tim. Suck him, he wants you to so much--"
And Kon shoves his fingers deep, Bart can tell because Tim lets out this inhuman yell and shudders, head dropping forward. He pants, letting his tongue slide out of his mouth, and licks a stripe up Bart's shaft. He licks and mouths it, sucking drops of pre-come off the head, before inhaling sharply and taking Bart all the way in his mouth. And Bart can't even blink, because Tim's fucking his own mouth on Bart, using him and working his finger inside him and moaning on every breath.
Kon is fucking Tim and Tim is fucking Bart, and all Bart can think is that he wants more.
"Oh god, oh Tim, fuck me, fuck me please --"
Which wasn't even remotely like 'stop,' but Tim does it anyway, and Bart opens his eyes to find Tim braced over him and staring. Kon is, too, pressed up tight to Tim's back looking over his shoulder, looking hungry and biting little nips along the side of Tim's throat. And Tim's mouth is swollen and red and he's tilting his head a little and Kon's stroking Tim's hips and Bart --
Forces himself to take a breath, and then waves toward his bed. "There's stuff. In the nightstand."
Kon gets it, moving fast enough to make Tim rock a little. And then he drops back down to his knees, next to Tim this time. He pours slick into his palm and slides it down Tim's shaft, jacking him slow. Tim groans, mouth falling open, and he doesn't look like he'll last much longer, not with Kon rubbing the head like that, and Bart almost wants to watch it, and listen, too, because of the wet sounds and Tim's gasps and the low, rough mutter of Kon's voice.
But then he starts to pay attention to the words --
" -- want to watch you fuck him. I bet he's tight. Was he tight on your fingers?" Kon lets go of Tim's dick, pours more lube on his fingers and presses them against Bart's hole. "Mmm, yeah. I want to see his face when you make him come --"
And he definitely wants to do more than watch. "Kon, I --"
"Yeah, Bart, I got you. Just..."
"Oh --" Kon's fingers are bigger than Tim's, which Bart guesses is a good thing because they're working him open. Bart tries to tilt his hips up, to open himself for this, but Kon crooks and Bart flexes hard.
And watches Tim's mouth open on another gasp and Kon's eyes get narrow.
"Oh god, please, I --" Stop, he tries to say, because this is going to make him come now, but Tim grabs Kon's wrist and eases his fingers out.
"I think he's ready."
Kon grins and kisses Tim. Bart tries to catch his breath but suddenly can't, because Tim has the lube and he's slicking Kon's cock.
And it hits Bart, and -- God. They're... all three of them.
He thinks it's definitely less weird than it ought to be, because it really doesn't feel strange at all. Like if it was going to happen, ever, it was going to happen this way, and the rightness of it pushes away any other thoughts in Bart's head.
Until Tim pushes inside him, stretching him open, and he wasn't expecting the burn, so he just pets Tim's chest and tries to keep breathing. He trails his fingers along the scars, making it slow for the one marring Tim's neck. He's seen it a handful of times before this, peeking out from under the collar of Tim's cape, and he's never been sure if he wanted to hide it again or touch it.
Or lick it. He really wants to lick it, because it's pale against the flush of Tim's skin, and Tim's inside him, all the way.
Tim settles and pants and doesn't move. It gives Bart a moment to get used to it, but then he watches Tim's face twist and Kon's hands sliding around his chest. Bart sees Kon pressing his cheek against Tim's shoulder as he moves, pushing in to Tim, and for a brief moment Tim's arms shake so badly Bart is afraid he'll collapse.
He grabs Tim's biceps and holds him steady. Tim gives him a grateful look right before Kon really moves, which makes Tim wince and groan. His arms shudder in Bart's grasp and he gasps again.
"Bart, I can't do this -- too much, I can't--"
"Don't stop -- just --"
Kon groans, and he must just slam in, because Tim slams into him and cries out, and Bart can see Kon's hands sliding around Tim's chest, stroking and petting and clutching. Tim's arms are braced and shaking and Tim says, "Can't -- I can't --"
Kon gasps, "You can, oh I never -- never fucking thought --"
And then something rolls over Bart's skin. Moving with him and every time Kon moves Bart can feel his aura caressing him everywhere. Down his arms and over his cock and stroking his thighs, touching him. Bart bites his lip, and opens his eyes just in time to see Tim feel it, too.
"Oh." And Tim's voice... it's the closest thing to a plea Bart has ever heard come out of him. "Kon."
Kon just pets Tim's chest and whispers, "I've got you -- got you both, I won't -- oh Jesus--"
Bart bucks up helplessly, and does it again, and keeps doing it because there's too much weight on him for him to be able to arch up as much as he wants to. It makes Tim gasp, makes him choke on a sharp noise, and then he drops to his elbows and sobs against Bart's throat.
Bart has to wrap his arms around him, around them. One hand in Tim's hair and one hand snaking up Kon's strong arm. Kon laces his fingers with Bart's own, presses their hands on Tim's hip, and thrusts. Bart tilts his head back and lets them fuck all the noise out of his throat, moves into it as much as he can and holds on.
Please, he wants to say. Please I love you love you both love what you do to me please yes -- but he can't get his voice to work. All that comes out is one long moan after another until he can't even make that much noise, only harsh gasps into Tim's hair.
Kon's eyes are closed, head tilted back and shoving in, and Tim's hand fumbles down Bart's side. He finds Bart's hip and digs in, clutching and lifting a little, like he's trying to help Bart get more.
Like he wants more, and Bart can't keep his eyes open anymore, he can't watch, because it's too hot, and he doesn't want to come again yet, he doesn't --
"Please," Tim says, an explosion of breath and sound against his throat, and Bart vibrates helplessly and Kon groans out,
And Tim -- Bart can feel it. Tim coming inside him and whimpering, over and over, Kon's aura raking over and off of them both, and Bart bucks so hard he moves both of them and spills all over their stomachs.
Tim clings to Bart, fingers digging into his hip and his hair like he can't let go, even though the rest of Tim's body is just slumped on top of his. Kon has somehow managed to stay mostly upright, and Bart feels Tim's tiny whimper against his throat when Kon pulls out.
Kon eases down shakily next to them and tosses an arm across Tim's back. "You okay?"
Tim squeezes Bart's hip hard for a long moment before rolling to Bart's other side. Bart has to twist a little to see his face, but it's worth it. Tim smiles like he's stoned on something, or possibly like those times when Vic lets Tim play with his weapons.
"I think that's a 'yes,'" Bart says, and Kon snickers and rubs his stomach, dipping his fingers in the come on Bart's stomach and licking. Bart watches Kon close his eyes and make "mmm" sounds around his finger.
"He's tasty," Kon comments, and leans in and licks the rest off Bart's stomach. It makes Bart whimper and clutch at Kon's hair. He can't... he's come three times already and he could probably go more because his dick is twitching again, but it's starting to hurt.
"Tim," Bart says, and it really sounds like a whine, "make him stop."
"Mm. All right." And Tim gets a grip on Kon's short hair and yanks.
"That didn't hurt you."
Kon scowls. "It's the principle of the... thing." He sounds so distracted that Bart looks at Tim, who's...
Licking his lips.
Bart thinks about saying something about how Tim's not really helping, but mostly he just watches Kon kiss Tim again. And watches Tim lick Kon's mouth.
He props his head on his arm and watches them and tries to ignore how his dick (and the rest of him) is coming back to the Land of the Very Interested. Tries really hard... and gives up entirely when Tim snakes a hand over Bart's chest and pinches his nipple.
Bart whimpers, and Kon pulls out of the kiss with a wet sound and stares down at Tim's fingers. His moving fingers, because Tim isn't even looking at him -- sucking slow and wet on Kon's neck and Bart knows how that feels -- and alternately twisting his nipple and rubbing it hard with the pad of his thumb.
Kon bites his lip and shoves his hand back into Tim's hair, holding Tim's head in place and closing his eyes for a long moment before opening them again and fixing them on Bart. "You like that? What Tim's doing?"
Bart sucks in a breath. "Yeah. I -- hurts. In a good way."
Kon reaches down and gives an experimental twist to Bart's other nipple. Gentler than Bart was expecting, actually, but enough to make him hiss in a breath and arch off the floor a little.
Kon smiles, eyes half-lidded and face slightly turned towards whatever Tim is doing to his neck. Bart sighs and puts his hands over theirs, holding them against his chest.
They'll all pass out eventually.
Bart wakes up first. Even through the closed blinds, he can tell the sun is long gone. He has a skewed time sense, but his best guess is it's around ten. He twists to look at the clock on the nightstand.
One a.m. Damn. He hopes Tim won't be cranky because he slept through his usual patrol of the grounds. He hopes they didn't sleep through any crises or anything. Though probably one of the others would've come to get them, and he's just not going to think about those images ever again.
He turns over, instead, and Tim doesn't look particularly cranky. He's still asleep, breathing evenly. He looks... really young, despite the mask and scars.
Kon looks equally young with his head resting on Tim's chest. Bart wonders how he can sleep that way. Tim's heartbeat must be deafening pressed into his ear like that.
Still, Bart thinks, rolling back against Tim's other side, he's really comfortable. Kon gets too hot to sleep against for long, but Tim is just right. Bart thinks fleetingly of golden-haired girls and porridge, and wonders if his own heightened body temperature is why he's so uncomfortable sleeping next to Kon. Wonders if he could lower his enough so that they could sleep with Kon in the middle.
Something else to research, when he has time. Bart eases out of the bed and reaches for his shorts.
He's still a little surprised that they'd made it into the bed. Three of them were a tight fit, forcing them to snuggle in a tangle of arms and legs. He tries to think of a convincing excuse for Vic and Kory to get one of them a larger bed. Kon could probably request it. He's a big guy, takes up a lot of room, and --
Bart thinks he's probably jumping the gun.
Still. He fingers a tuft of Tim's hair, which is a spiky dark mess over the pillow. Which is going to smell like Tim for the rest of the weekend.
Like all of them.
Tim makes a small waking-up-now noise and Bart snatches his hand away again. Probably Tim would be awake already, if they hadn't all...
He shakes himself a little, drags the sheet up over them, and slips out the door.
He showers, eats, and zips back to his room to put on his uniform. Tim and Kon haven't even moved. He can't tell if Tim is still really asleep or just pretending behind the eye shields, but Kon is snoring. He'll probably be like that until morning. Kon sleeps the most of any of them.
Bart zips down to the kitchen and makes a quick stop at the laundry room. He comes back this time with a bowl of fruit, a bag of cookies, a six-pack of Zesti, protein bars, and clean towels. He arranges the food on the nightstand and the towels on his desk, in case they wake up while he's gone. He hopes they don't.
Bart reads the papers and does a quick patrol of San Francisco. He steals four illegal handguns and returns three snatched purses before zipping back across the Bay.
This time when he gets back to his room, he finds Tim sitting up in bed, eating a peach and petting Kon's hair.
Kon's got his head and Tim's lap and --
"Fi' more minutes."
- is still passed out.
Bart watches Kon snuggle against Tim's thigh, and then looks back up at Tim.
"Looks that way."
Bart zips and changes back into his jeans, but doesn't bother with a shirt. He picks up the markers from the floor and scoots in next to Kon, facing Tim. He hands Tim the markers and offers his arm. Tim quirks his eyebrow.
"What? You're not going anywhere for a while."
And that just makes Tim quirk his eyebrow more, but he takes the pens anyway. He tilts Bart's arm towards the light and opens a red marker.
Bart somehow managed to forget how ticklish it is, at least at first, but Tim's hand is solid and hard on his arm, holding it still even before he needs to.
"How much more do you have to do?" Bart asks.
"You didn't look?"
Six times. He only passed six mirrors. "Well, yeah, but I'm not sure when you'll think you'll be done."
"Hm." Tim cocks his head and eyes his work critically. "Six minutes. Maybe nine."
Bart nods and thinks about things he can use to distract himself. This is actually challenging -- coming up with things to think about that won't make him want to move.
His mind flits back to mediation exercises Max tried to teach him and Bart utterly failed to learn. The only one he remembers well was an old, old song in a language Bart doesn't know. They had sat by a campfire, a full moon and their singing filling the sky, and the smoke had burned his eyes.
It's one of the few times he remembers Max looking wistful, and one of the even fewer times Bart remembers feeling really calm. He really should have thanked Max for that.
He misses Max in a way that he hasn't found any words for yet, at least not the right ones. Max had also helped him find better ways to express himself, and Bart had never found a way to tell him how much he appreciated that.
Mostly because he hadn't, at the time. Things change. Usually when he's not paying attention, and then too fast even for him. He wonders if Max is happy. If the Speed Force is even something that... he doesn't know.
"Do you have any regrets, Tim?"
Tim actually pauses, and Bart wonders why, but...
"Oh. I mean. Not about this. Unless you do, but -- "
"I don't," Tim says, and squeezes his arm. "About this."
Bart takes a moment to swallow around the relief, because he hadn't even thought about that, and he's read so many things that talk about Morning After Syndrome and anyway they don't have that. Or at least Tim doesn't, and he's willing to bet that Kon wouldn't be snuggled that well into Tim's lap if he did, so... "But other things?"
Tim cocks his head again, but doesn't stop working. "Yes," he says, and nothing else.
"You don't want to talk about it."
The corner of Tim's mouth twitches, once, and he reaches for a marker the color of a new brick. "Not... right now."
Bart nods slowly.
He's known Tim for a long time now, even for people who aren't speedsters, and Tim is the kind of person who means it when he says things like "not right now," as opposed to other people, who tend to just say it and hope you never ask again.
"I was thinking of Max," he says.
"You must miss him a lot."
It's just six words, but they're words that no one has really said to him, and... it's not just the words. It's the fact that Tim knows him, and the fact that Kon knows him, and if Kon were awake he'd probably say those words just like that.
Because they know he does, as opposed to...
He isn't sure what the others think about him, beyond "earned the name Impulse too well." Sometimes he's afraid there is no beyond.
Tim squeezes his arm again. "You okay?"
Bart blinks. "I must've been quiet for a while."
"Nearly an entire minute."
Tim is joking -- he can hear it -- but, still. A minute. "You know why I wanted this, right? The tattoo."
Tim caps the marker and pulls out a black one, but doesn't start using it right away. He's thinking about it, and not quite looking at Bart for what feels like forever. And then he does, and his smile is small, but it isn't twitchy at all. "Yeah. I do."
And then he starts to draw again, and, after a while, moves his steadying hand down to stroke Kon's hair, instead.
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Fandom: Teen Titans
Title: And sometimes discerned
Author: Weirdness Magnet and Te [email] [website]
Details: Standalone | NC-17 | *slash* | 47k | 08/04/04
Characters: Bart, Tim, Kon
Summary: Bart knows what he wants. Tim's helpful. Kon approves.
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