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“But why does it have to smell so sweet?” Kon questioned, arms crossed as he wafted in the air like an indignant child.


“We don't get to chose the smell our pheromones emit,” Clark answered, body open and abnormally relaxed for this type of discussion. Kon hated him sometimes.


“I smell like cotton candy. It's making me sick to my stomach.”


“Just be glad most humans and metahumans can't sense it.”


“And the ones who can?” Kon inquired, eyes peering up at the sun. Stupid equinox. And he was meant to deal with this twice a year from now on? Great.


“You'll be aware of them,” Clark said vaguely, painting his fingers through the soft, warm breeze.


“I can just tell this is going to end well,” Kon bemoaned.


Overall, Kon considered himself fairly lucky. The equinox only happened twice a year, and the effects lingered up to three weeks, and that was only if a perspective partner presented themselves. That hadn't happened, and Kon was grateful.


Kon was also grateful to be alive, and he was even more glad to be heading back to the tower; especially now that Tim was back on the team. Because Tim, for the most part, made sense, and Kon's life was seriously lacking any of that after he had seemingly risen from the dead. And, if he was being completely honest, he was concerned about Tim, and his turn for the dark and gloomy.


“Hey, Bart,” he greeted casually, watching in amazement and slight disgust as the speedster put away about a half a dozen or so sandwiches within a matter of seconds.




“Where's everyone at?” Kon questioned, grabbing a bottle of water from within the fridge.


“Cassie's with Kiran somewhere. BB and Raven had a date or something, Rose is...wherever Rose goes, and Robin's in the library.”


“What's he in the library for?”


“Don't know. Wouldn't say.”


“How very Robin-like.” Kon frowned slightly at his own words. Whatever Tim was doing, it probably had something to do with Batman. Who was he kidding? Of course it had something to do with the Bat.


The library was across from Tim's forensics lab, and while it wasn't Kon's favorite location, it was where Tim was, so then it was where Kon needed to be. Kon walked in through the ajar door, air stilted and stifled with literature, and he wished he could walk through a room without that scent clinging so insistently to his body. Tim was hunched over his desk, chin in his hand as he read dutifully, laptop open beside him, a series of programs running all at once.


Kon noticed the stack of books sitting in the armchair beside him, all placed in alphabetical and chronological order. Tim turned towards Kon before the other could announce his presence, face seemingly stoic. Kon disliked that Tim's entire face was hidden beneath that stupid cowl.


“Hey,” he greeted weakly, throat suddenly thick with saliva. Kon felt as though he couldn't swallow properly, and that wasn't right.


Tim looked at him; studied him with what Kon could only assume was a questioning stare. Kon suddenly felt uncomfortable, too hot, like his skin was attempting to crawl away from him. Kon felt different; odd.


“Conner, are you wearing perfume?”


Kon froze where he stood, one hand on the doorknob, the other in mid air. Kon's brain should be functioning, at least some what properly, but it wasn't. Kon's heart rate picked up, and he noticed, after a minute or two, that he was breathing quite heavily.


“Kon you smell like a jolly rancher,” Tim said, and he sounded rather alarmed. Tim stood to his feet, fingers gripping the edge of his work desk.


Kon took a deep breath, hands shaking as a searing heat settled in the pit of stomach, licking and igniting every nerve in his body. “Do, uh, I? Do I, really?” he inquired, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to focus.


“I don't feel well,” Tim admitted, hand removing his cowl. Kon shut the door behind him.


“Tim, I'm really sorry,” Kon apologized, back pressed flush against the wall. Clark never mentioned anything about this, about what it would feel like for him. The desperation that was beginning to settle was really, really terrifying.


“Kon, what's happening?” Tim questioned, brain functioning at a higher frequency than Kon's. Kon would laugh if he could, leave it up to Tim to keep enough composure to ask questions.


“Pheromones. You're reacting to them,” Kon said, trying to find the words necessary. “I'm reacting to you.”


“What do we do?” Time questioned, and all Kon could do was stare at his mouth as it opened, formed words around pursed lips, and then closed shut.


Their eyes met, and Kon could feel the flush that spread up the length of his spine begin to consume him. “Whatever you think we should do,” he responded, mind clouded with an array of sensuous images, tastes and smells.


“I think,” Tim started, and Kon could hear his pulse racing. “I think you should come here,” he said, and Kon was over and pressing the other teen up against the oak stained surface of his desk in a matter of seconds .


Kon would apologize for breaking Tim's laptop as soon as he actually felt sorry for it. As it stood, Tim's arms were pinned above his head, eyes wild, and hair a disheveled mess. Kon titled Tim's head back, eyes trailing along the curve of his slender, pale neck.


Kon inhaled Tim's scent; something rustic and calculating. Kon ground his hips downward, nearly rutting against Tim's thigh as he placed a kiss to Tim's chin before sinking the blunt of his teeth in to the hollow of his throat. Tim, Kon decided, was wearing far too much clothing.


The costume had to go; everything that wasn't flesh and bone, teeth and tongue, had to go. Tim raised Kon's shirt up and over his head as he leaned forward, knees on either side of Kon's hips, mouth securing on to his as Tim's hands took to Kon's belt. Kon muffled a laugh, two could play at that game.


Kon used his tactile telekinesis to immobilize Tim, strong hands removing every piece of clothing the other teen employed to hide himself. Tim was left a fidgeting, groaning mess. Kon stared, with much interest, at the way in which Tim's stomach tensed then shuddered, struggling to place air into his overworked lungs.


There was going to be a lot of explaining to do after all was said and done, but Kon was determined to get them through this, enjoy Tim wanting him so keenly. Kon raked his fingers through Tim's hair, holding his head still as he gazed down upon him. Kon closed his eyes, shuddered softly, and then reopened them.


“Thought about you. I thought about you all of the time when I came back,” Kon confessed. “All of the time.”


Tim's mouth fell open, gasp escaping his throat as Kon trailed his hand down Tim's abdomen, taking him in hand. Tim cried out as Kon's thumb swiped over the head of his cock, words dying on the tip of his tongue. Kon dipped his head low, pressing his mouth to the inside of Tim's right thigh.


“I missed you,” Tim said, eyes locked on to Kon's. His voice, it was so low that Kon almost didn't hear him. “It broke me. You dying. It broke me. I couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand you being gone,” he added, and Kon had a very difficult time holding himself together. Tim should never sound so somber.


Kon studied Tim's lithe body, taking in every scar; every reminder that underneath the cape and the cowl, Tim was very much human, and that just didn't seem possible to Kon. Tim was human, and Kon was a clone; capable of doing the greatest of goods, or dismantling the entire universe. Kon rid of his lingering thoughts, focusing instead on how to worship Tim's body.


Kon didn't have the slightest clue of what he was doing, but he was going to follow his instincts on this one, and hope for the best. “No more bad times, all right? We're in this together,” he said, body molding against Tim's as the other boys scent grew more prevalent and more intoxicating.


Tim's legs wrapped around the middle of Kon's waist as Kon's hands gripped eagerly at Tim's ass, edging him closer towards the ledge of his desk. Kon took them both in hand as Tim's fingers yanked at Kon's hair, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as the need for more grew stronger. Kon felt as though death were a real possibility, and idly wondered how Clark dealt with this on a yearly basis.


“Tim,” Kon pleaded.


“Move me to the couch,” Tim said, eyes demanding. Kon complied without hesitation.


Kon laid Tim down, mouth skimming up the center of his chest, nipping at his right earlobe. “I've got an idea,” he murmured, hanks raking up Tim's sides.


“Then implement it.”


“Okay, stay with me,” he said, placing one of Tim's legs over the back of the sofa, the other settling off the edge as Kon gathered himself. Something about Tim, no matter what, put him extremely at ease while simultaneously making him unnerved.


“Conner,” Tim choked as Kon willed himself to focus. He mouthed at Tim's bared collarbone as his tactile telekinesis created an insistent pressure at Tim's opening; circling, nudging, but never breaching the other boys body.


“I'm getting better at controlling it,” Kon said huskily, eyes amused and content as Tim's jaw came unhinged, body withstanding Kon's hold as the other teen used his powers to his advantage.


Tim's nails dug into the arm of the sofa, closemouthed as he compelled his breathing under control. “Conner. Stop teasing,” he warned as Kon ran his tongue over the sensitive area of Tim's pert nipple, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue.


“You want to take this any further, Tim, you've got to let me know,” Kon said, because pheromones or no pheromones, he wasn't going to cross a line if Tim didn't want it to be crossed.


Tim's free hand clasped Kon by the back of his neck, pulling him forward and down for a deep-seated kiss, wrapping his legs around the mid of Kon's waist. “Kon, if you don't take this further, I'll break the hand you currently have on my dick in three different places.”


“Sounds like permission to me,” Kon responded, willing his tactile telekinesis to pin Tim's arms above his head. Kon shifted on to his knees on the floor, hands gripping the back of Tim's thighs, bringing him closer.


Kon scraped his teeth along the pale expanse of Tim's inner thigh, teeth sinking in just enough to make Tim jolt. Tim's muscles clenched then relaxed, arms struggling against their invisible bonds. Tim inhaled deeply, legs trembling as Kon placed the flat of his tongue over the head of his cock.


There had always been this sort of momentum behind them. A surge of unstoppable power fueled by opposition, and the secrets kept between the two. A link no one, but them, could possibly understand. Kon had always been a bit unhinged by that knowledge, but once he had been separated from Tim, and for such a long time, he didn't mind it anymore. He didn't fight it.


Kon's hand gripped around the base of Tim's cock, saliva easing the jerking rhythm he set up. Tim, his Tim, was panting, face flushed as his jet black hair clung to his forehead. Kon used his unoccupied hand to tease Tim slowly open.


Tim, still reveling from Kon's previous ministrations, willingly took in the blunt of Kon's fingers. Kon's mouth stayed just as busy as his hands, foundling Tim's cock in and out of his mouth with a sort of impatience he was known for. Tim told him as much, and Kon willed himself to slow down, focus on making this the best thing Tim had experienced thus far in his life.


Kon used the deep vibrations of his voice to send a wave of sensation coursing through Tim's body, making his toes curl. Kon chuckled, then groaned, his own arousal heightened, pushing his limits. Kon had, for the most part, impeccable stamina.


Apparently, that stamina did not extend to one Timothy Drake-Wayne.


“Tim, I'm really sorry, but, if we don't move this thing along, I'm gonna come all over this sofa, and I'm not even going to feel bad about it,” Kon explained, eyes wide, and mouth swollen as he spoke.


“Then move me to the floor,” Tim said, pointing to a rug that sat center of the polished wooden floors.


“You're gonna get rug burn, you know?” Kon said, raising Tim up, placing him feet first onto the middle of the rug. Tim's fingers danced along the broad of Kon's shoulders, placing haphazard kisses along his jawline.


“Don't honestly care. You smell, so good. It's unreasonable,” he said, moving to lay on his back, hips raised and knees slightly bent.


Tim's body was nothing compared to Kon's, sleek muscle coiled under scarred, beautiful flesh. Tim was flexible, Kon could put his fist through cement; it was just how things worked, but their differences ultimately complimented each other. Tim's body complimented Kon's, and vice-versa.


“You know, we're pretty much having sex while Bart's still in the tower, right?” Kon asked, a short huff of laughter escaping his lips.


Tim chuckled as well, tangling his arms around Kon's neck as the two shared a chaste kiss. “It had crossed my mind, once or twice,” he admitted with no intent of stopping.


“You're absolutely filthy Tim, man. I like it.” Kon laced their fingers together, kissing each hand before letting go. “Ready?”


“As ready as I'm ever going to be,” Tim said, kissing the confused look off of Kon's face. “Yes. I'm ready.”


Kon placed one hand above Tim's head, the other slipping underneath Tim's arm, clinging to his back as he brought Tim forward. Tim's right thigh settled over Kon's bent knee, his other raised just so that Kon could enter his body in one slow, fluid push. Tim's head dipped back, lids closed and mouth open as a deep, agonizing moan spilled from his lips.


Kon stilled once he was fully seated inside of Tim, their bodies melded together. Tim moved first, nails dragging along Kon's back. Kon keened lowly within his throat, heart hammering inside his chest. He proceeded to move steadily within Tim's body, the other boys foot snaked around his leg, fingers prying between his cheeks. Kon groaned as Tim grinned audaciously, repeating the movement. Kon's shoulders tensed, hips slamming forward as the pressure for release edged closer.


Kon gripped Tim's hips with a firm, bruising hold, moving inside his body with short quick thrusts now that he knew Tim could take it. Tim raked his hands over his face, working to keep the sounds he made under control. Kon wasn't having any of that, as he resolved his tactile telekinesis to pin Tim's arms on either side of his head. Kon grinned at the disapproving glare Tim wore, licking a strip up the left side of his neck as the slender of the two let out a low-pitched wine. Kon balanced himself on his knees, raising Tim higher in order to have better access, watching as the other boys cock throbbed in between his legs. Kon was reserved to the fact that he would make Tim come without having to touch him.


Tim moaned his name, and it was the most perfect sound Kon had ever heard. Kon drifted forward, pelvis working in a counterclockwise motion as he bit and nipped at Tim's taut stomach. Tim cried louder, and Kon had to pause, collect himself, and then carry on with working Tim open, pushing him as far as humanly possible. The scent that clung to his body morphed, from something sweet like candy to something like a rich spice. Tim's skin tasted hot underneath his tongue, warm and inviting.


Tim arched his back, body writhing against Kon's hold, need palpable to both involved. Kon moved Tim to sit in his lap, arms pinned behind him. Kon raised the other boy up by his hips, groaning as Tim worked back down, body encasing Kon before he had the chance. Kon continued to torture Tim, causing an overwhelming sensation to build up in the junior detective. Finally, under threat of torture, Kon released his telekinetic hold on Tim, allowing the other teen to grip his jaw sharply, and kiss him with a heated passion Kon didn't think him capable of.


Tim's breath came out in short huffs, fingers clutching at Kon's sides as he continued to rock his hips downward. “I've got you,” Kon promised, coaxing Tim, for once, just to let go.


Tim nuzzled the crook of Kon's neck, fingers curling around the other side of his neck as he nipped and sucked at various placements of skin, causing Kon to jump slightly each and every time. “I've got you,” Kon repeated, hands holding firmly on to Tim's ass, spreading him open as he continued to thrust upward. Tim moaned, drawn out and strangled, as he came hard in between their bodies.


Kon brushed Tim's hair out of his face, kissing the other boys full mouth as he continued to press in deep. Tim's hands roamed up Kon's chest, breathy little noises pushing Kon over the edge. Kon noted that every muscle in his body ached, a testament to all that he had put it through. Kon slid out of Tim slowly, the other boy still catching his breath. Tim laughed as he stretched along the oval shaped rug, causing Kon to look at him funny.


“How many people know about this?”


“The pheromones thing?”




“Well, Superman, and anyone else who can sense it. So, you.”


“How long does it last?”


“Two weeks, three at the most. It only happens twice a year, something about the equinox. I wasn't really listening to everything he was saying. I was...really uncomfortable.”


“I bet. Having some sort of alien sex talk will do that to you.”


“Shut up.”


Kon propped himself up on one elbow, fingers occupied in playing with Tim's hair. Kon bent down, pressing his mouth to Tim's. He supposed the last few weeks had been building up to this moment, the pheromones helping to move things along. Tim sat up, looking around as his face pulled tightly as he thought. “My costume's all over the place,” he scolded halfheartedly.


Kon smirked. “Look at you. You folded everything into a neat little pile on the desk. What's wrong with you?” he questioned, as Tim pushed him, knocking him off balance.


“I'm polite.”


“You're anal retentive.”


“I'm surprised you can say that without laughing.”


Kon shrugged. “It took me a while,” he admitted.


Kon stood to his feet, offering Tim a hand. Tim took it, scars twisting and turning along his torso with every moment. Kon stared at them for a while, not trying to be rude, but trying to understand. Kon really didn't have to worry about his flesh scarring, it was durable, but Tim wasn't so lucky. One mistake, one mischance, and he had a permanent reminder. They were all like that, though, all of the Bats.


“I can't find my cowl,” Tim said, drawing Kon out of his thoughts.


“Good, it's terrible. The domino mask was better. Well, your face is better, but you know what I mean.”


“Still need it,” he said, pulling up his bottoms. Kon idly put on his jeans, the feeling gross as they had yet to clean themselves.


“Here,” Kon said, tossing the cowl to Tim who caught it with ease. “I need a shower.”


“The showers are all down stairs.”


“Then we'll just sneak down. You're not seen unless you want to be, remember?” Tim looked slightly uncomfortable. Kon sighed. “Look, if we run into Bart, I'll poke him in the eyes or something. You'll be okay. Promise.”


“Okay, Conner. Let's go.”


Kon smiled as the two headed for the door, clothing in hand. A shower sounded like the perfect opportunity to get closer to Tim without his pheromones drowning everything into a series of wants and needs. Or not; it just depended. “Do I still smell?” he questioned, curiously.


“Like cinnamon.”


“See, that's what I thought, too! It makes no sense.”


“You should ask Superman.”


“That would mean telling him I had sex with someone.”




“And I really don't want that conversation, Tim.”


Tim stopped, turned his head to the side and blinked once. “Then I guess we'll just have to experiment,” he said.


Kon grinned, opening the door slowly before peering out. “I like the way you Bat's think.”