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In Sheep's Clothing

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With a sharp inhaled breath, Ra’s wakes in his new body.

His lungs burn like a newborn’s, wanting to scream out just to make sure they work, but this feeling is familiar by now. Ra’s stays silent. It’s the other, newer, feelings that he’s much more interested in. How his body hums with a radiating power, with a warmth that never seems to fade. He can see everything, hear everything, feel far more than he has all at once then in all his years on this earth. It’s…alarming, if only for a second.

Then, he takes another breath– deep, powering, feeling how far his lungs can now expand, and steps out into the sun, his feet only touching the ground for a moment, and oh, how one could get addicted to that feeling.

Ra’s smiles, fist curling at his side, and flies off.

It’s just past ten and Tim’s now getting home. His last meeting turned into dinner instead of the quick contract signing he wanted it to be and as soon as the third bottle of celebratory champagne was opened, Tim knew he was in trouble. Not that he drank, but pretending to drink and get drunk was an exhausting effort Tim didn’t want to spend. It was his night off though, which mostly just meant ‘vigilante from home’ a habit that Dick swears up and down will be the death of him one day. Honestly, Tim has no idea what he’s talking about– driving home listening to police scanners in your headphones is a completely normal hobby to have.

Still, he’s not needed tonight or rather, he’ll be kicked off the rooftops if he shows up in mask and cape instead of taking the night off, so Tim’s SOL and forced to come home. It sucks, honestly, seeing as Kon’s been in Taiwan for the past three days helping with tsunami relief efforts and isn’t supposed to be back until the weekend.

Keyword there being ‘supposed’.

“Oh,” Tim blinks, one shoe halfway off his foot when he looks up to find Conner’s standing in the living room when he’s supposed to be on the other side of the world. “I thought you were supposed to still be in Taiwan?”

Conner stands there for a second in silence, a moment too long, in the dim lighting of Tim’s apartment, and for that single second Tim cocks his head and thinks ‘wrong’ before Kon’s smiling, his shoulders relaxing, and out of reflex Tim can feel his own doing the same.

“Kara came to relieve me,” He shrugs and there’s something about the motion of it that Tim can’t think of right now because Kon’s walking closer and three days away is three days too many. “Thought I’d surprise you?”

Tim can feel his own smile breaking out onto his face. Kon’s exactly what he needs after a long day playing CEO and seeing as Tim has only been able to see him through some sort of computer screen for the past three days, he isn’t going to complain too much now that he gets to have his boyfriend standing right in front of him.

As soon as Kon’s close enough, Tim wraps his arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. The first press is bumpy, like they’ve forgotten how to do this right, how they fit together, and Tim’s snickering before he adjusts and closes the space between them, sighing happily as Kon puts his arms around his waist and kisses him back.

When Tim breaks the kiss for air he’s only able for a single short intake before Conner’s covering his mouth again, chasing after another kiss that presses nearly as hard as his hands are against his lower back. Tim indulges, lets Kon dominate his mouth until he starts getting a little lightheaded from lack of oxygen, and pushes him back with more force, locking his arms to keep their distance as his chest pants up and down for breath.

Tim smirks. “Missed me that bad, hu?”

“You’ve no idea,” Kon says, ducking his head so he can steal one more quick kiss, using what Tim can feel as an edge of his strength to get what he wants. “Feels like I’m standing here with you for the first time.”

Tim snorts, rolls his eyes, and shoves Kon in the chest. “Nice line, Romeo. Looking to get something out of that?”

Kon smiles right back, a sharp edge to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe something like that…”

He’s on Tim again in a heartbeat, arms around him, pulling him close, nosing at Tim’s neck. It’s possessive and playful, making Tim laugh from the soft tickling against his throat as Kon brushes against him. It’s been three days, but they’ve gone far longer without any contact, their dry spells lasting for weeks depending on whether or not Tim was on a month long mission to save Gotham or Kon was flying to help with something off planet with the JLA. Three days is nothing in the grand scheme of everything they’ve been through, but right now Conner’s acting as if those three days were three months.

Again, Tim finds himself after a couple minutes of Kon’s groping hands and roaming mouth pushing the taller boy away, looking up to find Kon’s expression dark and hazy with the tell-tale signs of lust.

“Let me shower first, alright?” Tim says, “I’ve been at work for fourteen hours today, I’m gross.”

There’s about two seconds when Tim actually thinks Kon’s not going to let him go, just going to grab him up again and push him against the wall, but then he’s pulling away, a soft look falling over his face, erasing the desire in his features for the time being and Tim smiles, moves into place a chaste kiss at his cheek.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long, promise.”

As he goes off down the hall, he can feel Conner’s eyes following him, watching him all the way up until Tim closes the bathroom door behind him. Something about it makes Tim shiver as he presses his back against the hardwood of the door. He can feel the thrum of his heart beating hard against his ribs, but it’s easy to chalk it all up to the excitement of having Conner back sooner than expected.

Tim shrugs it off and starts to undress.

He doesn’t take a terribly long time in the shower– he never does unless he’s injured in someway or too tired to stand for very long (but during those times it’s not so much ‘i took a long shower’ as ‘i accidently passed out in the shower and woke up with the water still running’). So, when he hears the bathroom door click open he’s surprised to find Kon having grown impatient in the five minutes it’s been since he turned the water on and is joining him under the warm spray.

“Last time we tried shower sex you slipped on the tile and dropped me, remember?” Tim says with a grin through the steam and water falling around him as he washes soap out of his hair.

“I know,” Kon replies with some distance to his words as he steps closer, crowding around Tim under the water, blocking it partially from falling onto Tim. “Figured this could just be a warm up round.”

It’s not a bad idea, honestly, and it’s not like the shower isn’t big enough for both of them, but Tim was looking forward to just getting clean, moving everything into the bedroom so they’re comfortable and together and don’t have to move for the rest of the night. Those objections fall by the wayside quickly as soon as Kon gets his hands in Tim’s hair, fingers scrubbing across his scalp, massaging through the last of the soap and Tim can’t help but groan, let his eyes roll back, and lean into it.

“Well,” Tim purrs out, his eyes fluttering to a close as Kon press just a bit harder, runs from his head down to his neck and back up. “If you put it that way…”

He leans into Kon, turns to press his back to the other’s chest to give him more room to work with the better angle. Shampoo is washed away in favor of conditioner– far too expensive stuff Bruce bought him last christmas that he was still working his way through, smelling of mint and rosemary, what Conner’s come to know as his ‘signature scent’.

Kon works it into his hair, fingers getting every strand covered, before working his hands down to Tim’s neck where he presses and pushes, releasing any lasting tension from Tim’s neck to his shoulders, thumb digging into knots Tim didn’t even realize were there.

“Jesus…” Tim groans, feels his body heating up even as the water starts to grow colder. He’s starting to breathe harder now and Kon’s hands work their way down his body.

Strong hands are at his back, kneading all down his spine to his lower back, lower, and Tim’s panting, falling forward to put his weight against the shower wall, giving Kon more room, and his eyes are still closed, just blackness before his eyelids with dancing sparks of white to break their way in as knuckles work every last bit of stress from his body.

“Kon,” He breathes, cracks his eyes open just a little when he feels those hands disappear for just a moment, returning with a ‘click’ and soap covering them. He doesn’t flinch from the cold, but he does look back as one of Conner’s hands grabs his ass and pulls, spreads, and the other presses in to rub soap along his entrance. “Thought this…was just gonna be a warm up?”

Kon smiles, water falling down onto his face. Two fingers press a little harder at his hole, not entering, just rubbing and seeing how far Tim’s body already yields. “You’re warm, right?” Is the smug reply and Tim wants to roll his eyes, but Kon uses that moment to press more, the fingers of his other hand going down to his perineum, applying pressure, and Tim gasps, body trembles as he tries his hardest not to fall from his legs giving out.

It’s…intense. More so than Tim expected with Kon paying more special attention to his body then he can remember him doing in the past, but it feels good, making his legs feel weak, and Tim has to wonder briefly what exactly Kon was doing over in Taiwan.

He’s hard and Kon’s holding him, still pressing, but the strength of his hands keeps him from falling, keeps his trembling limbs from fully giving out.  He can feel his cock pulsing, hanging heavy now between his legs from all the touching even if Kon still has yet to even touch him there. It’s enough– Conner has always known how to press all his buttons.

Tim’s finally knocked from his blissed out haze when he feels Kon’s fingers breech him, dipping into his now relaxed hole  to stroke along Tim’s inner walls. He shivers with it, but gains enough sense to grab at Kon’s hand with his own, trembling though he is, and look over his shoulder at his boyfriend.

“Can we continue in bed? I don’t want to finish here.”

There’s a pause between Tim asking and Kon’s answer, a pause that Tim thinks might be filled with Conner attacking his mouth again, but then the other is releasing his hold, pulling Tim back under the shower head to rinse off the last of the soap and conditioner in his hair.  They step out of the shower together, drying off with one towel just enough so they’re not dripping all over the floor, and then Kon scoops Tim up in his arms and flys them both the short distance to the bedroom. Tim’s still got the towel in his hands when Kon places him on the bed, pushing him until his back hits the sheets and Kon can crowd in above him.

Tim throws the towel to the side, wraps his arms around Kon’s neck and runs his hands through short, damp, hair. “Hi.”


They stare at each other for a time, laying together. Tim looks up at Kon, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, memorizing all over again the angle of his jaw and curve of his nose, how bright and blue his eyes really are…

There’s something. A glimmer, maybe, some sort of little detail that appears off for just a second, enough that the corner of Tim’s lips are dipping down, and then Kon’s closing the gap between them, capturing Tim’s mouth once more, and he’s moaning into it, the warmth of his mouth and the dart of his tongue. Tim groans, lets his legs fall open so Kon’s got room enough to settle on his knees between them, his stomach against Tim’s, their naked bodies sliding together with the dampness of skin. Kon grinds down against him, their cocks rubbing, and Tim rips his mouth away from Kon’s in order to gasp, suck down a harsh breath as his hips jerk up to get more friction.

Everything moves quickly now. Tim reaches blindly to the nightstand, opening it with just a bit of struggle before he’s grasping at the tube of slick, throwing it to Conner while he sits up and scoots up the bed, gets comfortable with a pillow under his head now. He watches with hooded eyes as Kon uncaps the lube, drizzles a good portion onto his fingers until they’re dripping, and Tim lets out a low breath, throwing his head back and moans at the very view while Kon crawls up between his legs again.

He’s still loose from the shower, so when Kon throws a leg over his shoulder and slides a finger into him it goes easily, the second joining a short time later with only a groan from Tim with the fast pace. It’s more pleasure than anything, the stretch and slight burn he feels from Kon’s fingers and prep having grown into a wanted edge to their coupling. Three days is not nearly enough time for Tim to have forgotten the feel of Conner against him.

The two fingers thrust inside of him, stretching him out as Conner kisses along Tim’s jaw, down his neck. His teeth graze along scarred skin, sucking and biting in a manner that leaves Tim’s breath hitching in his throat. It’s dual sensation that leave his cock throbbing against his stomach, hard as he can ever remember, and still he has yet to have it touched. It feels amazing.

“Conner– Kon, please,” He practically begs, thrusting back against Kon’s fingers, wanting them deeper inside of him. In response, he can feel Kon huff out a smirk against his skin before a third is pressing up inside of him, squeezing in alongside the other two, making Tim moan aloud as there’s no adjustment period, the digits simply starting of inside of him faster than before.

Kon gets down to his chest, tongue leaving a burning path across his skin as he moves to trace scars, suck hard against his nipples until Tim’s back is arching up into the touch. “Oh- oh, god, please!

He doesn’t mean to sound so desperate. He doesn’t mean to beg, but he does, his dick is leaking all over his stomach at this point, blood pumping hard in his ears. He wants Conner inside of him, wants to feel him stretch him out.

Thankfully, Conner knows. He doesn’t have to hear Tim ask further as he pulls his fingers free and grabs up the lube again. Conner’s good to him– he knows what he wants, what he needs, just looks up at Tim to see him biting at his kiss-swollen lips to know he’s ready, wants it, before pushing the head of his cock inside.

“Oh, fuck,” Tim throws his head back once more, hands gripping the pillows at his head hard. “Don’t tease, jerk, just– fuck me.”

It’s not something that needs to be told twice.

The first thrust in is nearly too gentle, but the second when Kon pulls all the way out and slams back in is everything that Tim needs right now. The force of it shakes up his spine, makes his toes feel weak as his hole is stretched wide, cock bouncing against his stomach with the motion.

“Beautiful…” Tim hears Kon whisper out and he wants to almost laugh at that, but the sound never makes its way into his throat, stamped down by the need to inhale and moan as Kon’s hips keep snapping against his own, his cock bottoming out every single time.

It presses into him so well, gives him the perfect feeling of being full, his body opening for Conner over and over again, trying to keep him inside every time he pulls back. It’s intoxicating.

Tim reaches out to take up Kon’s hands, pull them down from where they’re pressed against the bed to his hips, guiding Kon to wrap them around him, hold him as he fucks into him.

Kon looks up and cocks a brow– expression as if to say ‘oh really?’ as if he hasn’t held Tim while they have had sex before. This does make Tim giggle, squeeze Kon’s hands to reassure him right before Kon’s grip goes hard against his hips, strong hands taking hold as the next thrust leaves his body jarring against the bed. Tim nearly screams.

Now, Kon guides him. Pulls and tugs so he’s always moving back down into each thrust, their bed bounces and shakes under the movements.

Tim’s trembling again, holding on tight as Conner slams into his body over and over again, his cock stabbing at his prostate in an uneven rhythm that has his insides coiling up tight. He’s close and they’ve barely started. He’s close and he wants to come so badly it hurts.

He reaches out a hand for his cock, but almost immediately it gets slapped away by Kon who’s smiling above him, movements never falter.

“No,” he says. “I want to see you come from my cock alone.”

The words drive a moan from Tim’s lips as he places his hands back down onto the bedding, riding out each powerful thrust with shaking thighs as the warmth of orgasm curls tighter and tighter in his stomach. Usually, Kon doesn’t get like this unless it’s some special occasion. Some birthday or celebration. Their sex life is far from boring, but Tim’s not so used to Kon being so…demanding. Driving.

Not two minutes later Tim feels it in his stomach– his muscles all tighten, his body shivers, and a low drawn out moan leaves his throat as his cock spills out onto his stomach in a shuddering jerk as Conner fucks him through it.

His body drops down heavily against the mattress as soon as he is spent, panting hard as he quivers in aftershocks, trying to hold on as Kon chases after his own end. As his muscles keep twitching, soon Kon’s stiffening up, his hands grasping Tim’s hips all the harder as he drives in one more time as deep as he can go and comes inside of the willing body. Tim moans softly at the feeling of Kon filling him up, the way his cock twitches and how he can feel the warmth spreading.

They both are silent beyond each other’s breathing, sweat dampening Tim’s brow now as he looks up at his boyfriend with a wide, goofy, smile on his lips in his post-orgasm bliss. Kon’s staring down at him, still leaning over him, not willing to let his body fall.

Tim cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kon says, bringing a hand up to cup Tim’s cheek, thumb brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Just never thought I’d get to see you like this. Pretty as you are.”

Tim can’t help but laugh softly at this, turn his head so he can kiss the palm of Kon’s hand, nuzzle his nose against his warm skin. “You’re a sap, you know that?” Tim speaks softly. “But I love you anyway, so I guess you’re doing something right.”

“You love me?”

“You know I do, idiot.”

Conner hums, leaning in close, his words tickling Tim’s lips. “Yes, but maybe I just like to hear you say it.”

“I love you,” Tim says, pulls his arms around Kon’s neck once more, stretching his neck up to plant a quick kiss on the other’s lips. “I love you.” and another. “I love you.” and another. “I love you.”

Kon growls, a deep bellowing sound emphasised by a sharp thrust of his hips, pressing his once again hard cock against Tim’s abdomen which only makes him chuckle.

“Ready for round two already?”

The response comes in the form of Kon grabbing Tim by the back of the neck and kissing him hard, devouring. It’s an easy enough action to read.

This time, however, Tim takes more charge, pressing his body weight up and rolling them over. Kon goes tense all over under him, body tight as if ready to lash out, though as soon as he peers up to see Tim’s straddling his stomach, reaching back to grab up the bottle of lube once again, he relaxes.

“Don’t worry,” Tim breathes out, hand stretching up Kon’s stomach to his chest. His other is behind him, getting himself slicked up again even if there’s still cum sliding out of him and tacky lube sticking to his thighs. “Relax. Let me do this.”

They’ve done this hundreds of times by now. Kon’s always said how much he likes when Tim’s on top, riding him, how he can just watch him, his facial expressions, how much he is clearly enjoying himself. They both revel in it.

The actions of sliding back and gripping Kon’s dick, lifting his hips and sliding down onto it have become something like muscle memory at this point. He inhales deeply as his body easily opens and accepts Kon’s cock, already so open and slick from their first go. Tim’s fingernails rack down Kon’s stomach as he bottoms out.

“Shit, you always feel so damned good…” He sighs, takes half a minute to just feel Kon, how deep he is inside of him, how wide he is with the thick girth of him. Tim grinds his hips back and forth, just feeling, until his own body’s going warm all over once again and he has to move.

He bounces up and down, taking his time in building up a quicker pace, wanting Kon deeper more so than he wants the fast movements, so he starts off slow, lets it grow. He’s able to change the angle easily, twist his hips and bend his back, so when he lets his weight drop and the head of Kon’s dick hits his prostate right on, Tim moans loud and needs to take a moment for the shocks of pleasure to stop his convulsing.

The pause, however, makes Kon grow impatient, it seems, as Tim’s suddenly jerking with the harsh thrust inside of him, Kon having decided to take up the job of driving his cock inside of him from where he lay on the bed.

Tim looks down at him, eyes hazy, wanting to quip about being patient, but Kon’s not giving him the time. He grabs at Tim’s hips and forces him to move, using his strength to lift Tim and drop him back down, impaling him deep and hard, making Tim’s spine curve as the pace picks up drastically.

“Kon–” Tim groans the name out, feeling drunk on the slight hand of aggression; of dominance.

It continues with Kon’s hips moving faster, his hold on Tim growing stronger until he’s barely able to wriggle against the grip, barely able to move, all he can do is sit there and take it as he’s bounced up and down like some sort of toy. Tim worries his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down when a thrust hits its mark hard and his cock dribbles out another spurt of precum to slide down the shaft.

Kon moans at the sight of him, the sound deep, dark. Tim’s lips are bruised red, his cheeks blushing, the color working all the way down his throat. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat, cock hard and purpled at the head, dripping, hole being pounded into as his body is brought up and down over Kon’s cock in a slap-slap that fills the room.

All at once, Kon sits up, arms around Tim’s middle keeping him still even as the angle changes and he shouts at the sudden shift, body coiling tight and his hole squeezing Kon hard. He attacks Tim’s throat with his mouth, more violent than he was previously, and Tim can do near nothing but hold on as Kon bites down at his skin.

“S-shit,” Tim manages to get out, hands still gripping Kon’s shoulders hard. “Kon, you know I can’t– not above the collar!” He hisses, ready to push him away, but then Kon moves down, bites hard at the juncture between shoulder and neck and Tim’s body seizes up at the sudden hot shot of arousal that goes through him, that leaves him aching for more.

His protests die out quickly as Kon continues biting bruises and teeth imprints into his skin, marking him, leaving Tim looking attacked, taking what he wants.

Tim moans. He can’t help it. The hands on him are rough too, their hold on him tighter than Tim can remember it being for a long, long time, the force of Kon leaving his bones aching in the best way possible. Tim feels used, fucked out, and all he can manage is to hold on tight and take it.

This time, he doesn’t last nearly as long as he had before. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he comes now, feeling as if there was no build up, just a harsh wave that rushed over him as Kon kept biting him, squeezing him, fucking him. Orgasm crashes over him, the slide between his and Kon’s stomach enough to send him over the edge. All the sensations around him are too much to handle and Tim throws his head back and shouts his pleasure for all to hear– his fingers digging into Kon’s skin trying to find an anchor, knowing he wouldn’t hurt him.

It doesn’t stop.

Kon’s movements don’t cease– they get harder. Rougher. His eyes are dark as he pushes Tim, shoves him onto his back and gets nearly on top of him as he keeps moving his hips, thrusting, and it’s good until it’s not. Until Tim’s getting a little too hot, his cock twitching weakly in overstimulation, and his ass starting to feel raw.

“Kon,” He says, voice cracking ever so slightly from his yelling. His hands move to Kon’s chest, pressing slight. “Just– just hold on a second, you can–”

He doesn’t seem to hear Tim or, Tim’s stomach starts to drop, doesn’t seem to care.

His body is still being used. It’s starting to hurt. His hips ache. He’s starting to feel too full.


A hand lands on his chest, fingers splayed, and Tim can feel the strength behind them, feel how Kon pushes down until Tim’s back is dipping into the bed, until he can feel Kon’s fingers hard against his breastbone and his heart beats heavy and hard.

“I’m not done yet.”

Tim frowns. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s actually felt scared while facing down Conner and that hasn’t happened in a very, very, long time. Since they were teenagers, young, and still finding out secrets about themselves. Since Conner wasn’t in his right mind– when he was being controlled. Tim took a breath as deep as he could, tried to steady how fast his pulse was racing, ignore the pain-pleasure coursing up every nerve in his body. Ignore the cold trying to sink in.


“Timothy,” Kon says. “Don’t be rude.”

Tim lets the cold sink into him. His eyes go wide just as Kon’s hand presses harder against his chest, making it hard for him to breath, but he’s not doing so right now so he doesn’t notice beyond the added pressure.

He can barely feel the thick cock moving inside of his body now or how Kon’s hips smack against his ass. He can hear the blood pumping hard in his ears. They ring.


His tongue feels too dry, too wide for his mouth. Above him, Kon smiles. It’s sharp, shows too much teeth, and his eyes are glimmering dark, the blue in them going deeper, greener…

“I’m nearly disappointed, Detective,” Kon’s voice says, but the words don’t truly belong to him. The sharp thrusts stop for a time as Kon leans in close to Tim’s ear, hot breath making Tim shiver when he gets close enough. “I thought you would have figured it out sooner.”

Tim grits his teeth.

He uses their position as an advantage, Kon’s attention isn’t entirely focused. He wraps his legs around Kon’s middle, squeezing tight, and with a grunt curls his body, throwing Kon head first over the bed and onto the ground. It’s not easy, exactly. Tim’s flipped bigger people than Conner, but the situation is a little different given he’s usually wearing kevlar and not naked with a dick still inside of him.

He doesn’t pause to think about it, just jumps up on the bed and darts for the headboard and the hidden compartment on the wall. Before he can reach it he’s yanked back onto the bed by Kon, a firm grip on his ankle, but Tim kicks out at his head, knocks him lose. He’s not worried about hurting him. He can’t. He can only slow him down. That thought has never scared him more.

He get to the compartment, presses the camouflaged button, but as soon as it slides open the wind is knocked from his chest. It’s empty.

The split second it takes him to realize this, he’s thrown sideways onto the bed and suddenly Kon’s pinning him down again, harder this time, securing his hands with his own and his legs pinned by his knees. It leaves Tim open and vulnerable, but there’s little more he can do right now besides struggle.


Kon rolls his eyes. “You should know by now I’m not him, Timothy. Come on now. Be smart about it.”

Tim stills his struggles, lifts his head up to meet Conner’s gaze. His eyes are still blue, they’re unearthly alien crystal that always reminds Tim of the ocean. Except they’re not. They’re foamy, foggy, shining like a predator’s in the night. He can feel his lips curl.


Kon– or at least Kon’s mouth– smirks.

It feels like a bad dream. He’s dreamt of things like this before. Of Kon losing control of himself like he did before, hurting everyone again, hurting Tim. Usually, during those dreams, Tim shoots up in bed with tears blurring his vision and his arm throbbing with phantom pain of before. He’ll rub at his forearm and wrist, force his shoulders to stop trembling, and constantly reassure Kon who wakes up beside him that he’s fine. That he didn’t just have nightmares of Kon’s heat vision through his chest. It’s okay.

But this…this Tim’s never imaged. Never dreamed or thought of. Because this wasn’t Kon above him, pressing down all his weight so Tim could barely budge against the mattress, this was Ra’s. Ra’s al Ghul in Kon’s body and maybe– maybe Tim would get lucky and he was dreaming. He’d wake up any second on his couch with a kink in his neck from falling asleep against the arm.

Except this isn’t and he doesn’t. Tim’s too awake and too aware to pretend like that’s an option for too long. The dull pain in his wrists from the pressure put on them is growing more painful as the seconds tick on.

Kon–or Ra’s– tsks, cocking his head. “Don’t zone out, Timothy. I want you present. We were having so much fun before, don’t you think? I’d hate for it to end so soon.”

And that. That is truly when it all sinks in. When everything that has happened, that they’ve done, that Tim’s done, comes rushing in. Tim can feel as his blood runs cold like ice water was just splashed into his veins. His stomach rolls, he wants to be sick. Because this isn’t Kon, hasn’t been Kon, even if it looks like Kon, has his voice and his hair and kisses like him, knows where Tim likes to be touched, this isn’t him.

It’s Ra’s. And it has been since Tim walked through the front door.

His eyes sting. They’re growing wet. Tim blinks furiously, fighting the tears away. “What did you do to him?” He says in a voice that sounds too rough and cracked for his own good.

Kon keeps grinning at him. “Don’t worry, Timothy, he was fine when I left him. The transfer went…better than expected. He lives in my old body, for now. I thought this would be fun, trying on something a bit more…” Tim watches as the blue of Kon’s eyes disappear into red, fiery, the glow taking over pupil and cornea, moving out to the edges, growing hot and bright. “…exotic.”

He blinks and the heat is gone, his eyes back to their wrong-blue. Tim stiffens with the realization that Ra’s has started growing accustom to Kon’s powers which brings up the question– how long has he been like this? In Kon’s stolen body?

It couldn’t have been long, Tim figures. Kon’s been gone for three days now, it had to have been at some point when he left until now, or at least…at least he hopes that is the case. He hopes it hasn’t taken him days, weeks, months, to figure it out. He hopes he can tell his own boyfriend from an imposer. He hopes, and yet he didn’t realize. He didn’t. He let Ra’s kiss him, touch him, fuck him. He let him do everything because he was too distracted, too trusting, too damned in love to even think there might be something wrong; something wrong with Kon when he comes home wanting to kiss Tim. How stupid.

Tim’s head smacks to the side suddenly, his face burning from the force behind the hand slapping him. He doesn’t move, breathing hard, but looks out of the corner of his eye at Kon who looks unamused.

“I told you,” He growls out, grabbing Tim by the chin to force his head forward again, for him to look up into his boyfriend’s face. “I want you present. Pay attention.”

There’s more tears now springing into his eyes, this time they’re mostly from the impact he just took, the side of his face starting to burn up red from it. Kon doesn’t let him go.

“Timothy, please,” Kon’s touch is gentler now, his fingers not gripping so much as holding, thumb rubbing softly at Tim’s lips in some false act of intimacy. “You enjoyed yourself twice already, I promise you’ll continue to do so.”

Kon lowers his hips and thrusts his still hard cock against Tim’s thigh, grinding the slick shaft along his skin and both of them groan softly with the action– Kon out of pleasure, Tim out of disgust. Ra’s can’t be serious.

“Where the hell is–”

“Enough about him. I’m here. He’s here, look at me.” Tim doesn’t want to, but his eyes can’t look away without the harsh grip returning. “I’m him. I’m everything you’ve always wanted him to be.”

Tim wants to laugh at that comment. Kon’s already everything he’s wanted. Tim should know. He’s had him taken away once before, he knows exactly what he’s missing, what he loses without Kon by his side, and he knows he can’t possibly want more out of Kon then he already has. He’s not perfect, but he’s Tim’s.

He glares. “You’re nothing like him.”

Kon cocks a brow. Ra’s cocks a brow because– because it’s not Conner. He’s not.

“Oh,” he breathes out softly, fingers becoming gentle once more, running along Tim’s jaw. “I beg to differ.”

It happens so fast Tim thinks he has whiplash. He’s on his back and then the world goes blurry for a moment, everything drops, and then Tim’s pressed down on his front among the bedsheets. He just barely manages to get his legs beneath him, give himself some form of leverage, but Kon–Ra’s. Ra’s is quick to cover his back, body flush against Tim’s. His cock slides along the cleft of Tim’s ass. Tim shivers and doesn’t want to admit to himself why.

Ra’s grabs for his hips, hands hot just like Kon’s always are, except they’re not and they’re squeezing too hard and Tim shouldn’t like it as much as his body tells him he does. Ra’s rests his chin against Tim’s shoulder, making sure Tim knows just how close he is, and so Tim drops his head, refusing to look at him.

“Don’t get so shy on me now, Timothy. You were so responsive before.”

A hand wraps around his cock, half hard despite coming twice and Tim’s best efforts to tell himself he doesn’t like any of this. He shouts with the touch, the first time tonight either of them have touched his cock and Tim jerks against it, knocking his head back to head-butt Ra’s in the nose, knock him off, but it does little to help. Ra’s is taken aback by the force long enough for Tim to get his arms under him, but then Ra’s returns with his full body weight and shoves Tim back down, his legs and arms collapsing under him. Ra’s holds him down with his knees and hands, pushing hard against the back of his thighs and shoulder blades, barely giving Tim enough room to breathe around the bedding.

“Must you be so difficult?” Ra’s nearly yells now, the rise in volume making Tim’s head throb from the pain of slamming into the thick skull of a Kryptonian.

The weight on Tim’s back is lifted and the heat from Ra’s isn’t so close, but this time when Tim attempts to get an arm under him he can’t move. His heart skips a beat, thumping hard. He tries again, but either he hit his head a lot harder than he thought or he can’t move. At all.

It’s familiar, when he wraps his mind around it. Like a heavy lead blanket, cool enough against Tim’s skin that he knows it’s not natural; not human. His arms breakout into goosebumps when he feels the force slide along his back, down to his legs.

Ra’s shifts behind him, sits up on his knees to look down at Tim, letting the tips of his fingers trail down his back as he admires the pale stretch of skin broken up by various scars. Tim still can’t move. He can only lay there now and let Ra’s do as he wants.

Tim can’t turn his head to see him, but he can still hear when Ra’s makes his pleasures known.

“I was surprised by this one,” He says, stroking Tim’s skin, gazing longingly as if remembering fondly back to which scars he put on Tim. “What does he call it now…tactile telekinesis? Mm, yes. Such a useful ability. I’m assuming you’ve done this before, hm?”

Hands wander downward, trace lightly along the marred flesh, count down the knots of Tim’s back, curving up on his ass and squeeze Tim’s cheeks.

Tim says nothing. He can’t. It’s not a question that needs an answer, but still he thinks, and he hates himself a little bit more because of it. Tim stops resisting the TTK keeping his head in place, simply relaxes into it and squeezes his eyes closed tight as he feels all too familiar fingers touch him; spreading him open to peer at his entrance, still wet.

“Spread out on the bed and loves how he can touch you without even lifting a finger.” Ra’s continues, pressing a thumb along Tim’s hole, dipping inside and feeling the collection of cum and lube still keeping Tim open and slick. Lazily, he fucks his thumb shallow, feeling how Tim tenses beneath him, but unable to do anything more. “Or maybe you prefer when he pins you down like this? Forces you still while he has his way with you…you did so like when I was doing so before.”

It’s starting to get hard to breathe, Tim finds. Partly because his face is still mostly pressed too much within the sheets and partly because his lungs burn. Partly because his bones rattle under his skin, unable to tremble, unable to move. It’s hard to expand his lungs under the invisible weight keeping him down, hard when there’s a knot caught in his throat, hard when he’s thinking about how Kon likes to get him off with only the tactile telekinesis– watching from the foot of the bed while his force field glided around Tim’s body, strokes him inside and out, all with the soft smile on his lips, calloused fingers stroking along his ankle, just watching.

It hurts to know and remember. It hurts when those same hands are touching him now.

Tim’s hyper-aware of everything in this moment, unable to do anything about it.

He feels every move Ra’s makes. Every touch of his hands, how he keeps Tim spread, how he presses his thumb all the way in, takes it out and just slowly fucks him over and over with it, upgrading to two fingers that are so much longer, thicker, but just as slow. Tim can feel the burning stare of Ra’s watching him; it feels like he’s being eaten alive.

It feels like forever until Ra’s is finally pulling his fingers out and replacing them once more with his cock. It doesn’t make things better, but at the very least Tim knows things are moving forward. This can’t last forever.

Can it?

This round, Ra’s takes his time. It makes Tim’s stomach roll.

He’s just as rough, just as hard, but every movement is calculated and precise. There’s not enough lube left for the glide in and out of Tim’s body to be truly pleasurable, but the drag of skin against skin still leaves Tim’s stomach going tight, his own cock still half hard between his stomach and the mattress and only growing harder with each sharp thrust driven deep inside of him, pressing hard against his prostate.

Ra’s drags it out as much as he can, fingers leaving bruises along Tim’s waist from the hold he keeps on him, but finally with a final, hard, thrust he comes bottomed-out and Tim breathes for the first time in what feels like forever when he finally feels Ra’s pulling back.

He doesn’t mean to let the sigh fall out, but it does and of course Ra’s picks up on it.

He touches Tim’s chin again, his fingers sticky, releasing Tim’s head from the invisible hold so he can turn his head to the side, make Tim look back at him. “Don’t sound so disappointed, you should know better than anyone that we’re certainly not done just yet.”

That too-sharp smile returns with a roll of Ra’s hips and Tim lets out a pained groan with the feel of the still-hard cock along his ass, the head of it rubbing against his hole, sliding easily with the dribbling of cum spilling out of him.

The force around Tim coils, changing from a heavy sheet to that of a rope, wrapping around his middle and lifting his body without his permission, pulling and shifting until Tim is on his hands and knees on the bed, able to breathe without the weight on his back or bedding suffocating him. Now, however, he feels more vulnerable, more open. He feels like he’s participating instead of being trapped, forced onto his stomach. It feels worse.

His head is still free from the touch of the TTK, so when Ra’s pushes into him again he flinches and bites down on the yelp that wants to leave his throat.

It feels now like he’s only slicked with the cum in his body, keeping Ra’ dick wet, keeping his walls open and willing. He feels sticky with it, filthy, but Ra’s seems to have no issue– he pulls Tim’s body back and forth, using him like a toy. All Tim can do is grit his teeth and take it.

He breathes through each hard thrust. It takes him a moment to relax, close his eyes and not so much accept what was happening, but acknowledge it. Know that this was real and it made it all a little bit easier to grasp. Made it easier for Tim to try and ignore it.

It’s harder, like this, to meditate. He very much doubts Bruce or any of his other teachers had this in mind when they taught him about leaving your body, going into a trance, ignoring the pain, but right now all that is relevant. He controls his breathing and edges his mind away, somewhere else, anywhere else besides here, now, and it works– nearly.

But Ra’s plays dirty. He always has, so Tim shouldn’t be surprised, but suddenly there’s more touching, more hands, more invisible coils wrapping along his cock, squeezing, teasing at his nipples until they pebble and he hisses with the mouth at the back of his neck, biting hard enough that Tim know it will bruise for days after.

A smack comes down on his ass making him jump, tighten, and he hates how he can hear Ra’s moan from it.

“Am I not holding your attention well enough? Hm. Maybe I should try harder. After all, I’d hate to be selfish.”

The not-quite-cold force around his dick is replaced with the warm touch of skin, of calloused fingers, and Tim nearly cries out with it. It’s too much of a memory, too much of the usual. He wants the TTK back; he wants the disconnection, but Ra’s won’t let him.

His hands are everywhere, touching everywhere, making Tim’s skin feel too tight, making him feel so much dirtier than he had before. Ra’s starts moving again, keeping his movements steady as he bites all across Tim’s shoulders, runs his fingers down Tim’s sides leaving behind red welts and scratches when he presses too hard. Marks that Kon had never given him before and Tim tries not to think of Kon now, tries not to compare them, because Tim’s still hard and he’s biting back noises and he shouldn’t want this.

It feels good. It’s nothing like Kon, and yet it’s everything Tim’s always wanted, but never asked for; never wanted to put Kon in this position. Tim’s aware of how hurt he looks when Tim rubs at his arm a little too much or how his eyes linger on the scars that aren’t so prominent, but Kon knows they were caused by his hand. Tim’s never brought it up because he’s never needed to. Their sexlife isn’t lacking and both of them are happy and yet– and yet–

“I’m still him,” Ra’s whispers in his ear, hot, mouth pressing along the shell of Tim’s ear. “I’m everything you always wanted him to be.”

Tim chokes on a sob, feels his muscles tighten, and comes for the third time that night with Kon’s dick inside of him, but it’s not the same man.

His heart grows heavy, feeling too big in his chest, ready to burst, but his body doesn’t care. His thighs tremble as his cock dribbles out what little cum he still has in him, staining the crumbled sheets between his legs. He sobs again as Ra’s keeps moving inside of him, keeps every nerve ending on fire.

Ra’s comes inside of him once more, riding out the feeling of Tim’s inner walls convulsing around him, massaging his cock and sucking down everything that he can give. He’s enjoying this new body, the youth and power he holds in it, but also the stamina. He hadn’t before realized just how long Kryptonians can go and how much they can keep giving.

He’s only come twice now and yet Ra’s can already feel how much he’s filled the younger man up– now wet he is, how every time Ra’s moves his hips a squelching sound admits and a little bit more cum spills out around him. It’s intoxicating to watch, how dirty he’s making Tim, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

So he keeps going.

Keeping Tim pinned down, it’s easy. Especially when he stops fighting against it. Ra’s can feel the way he struggles against the force holding him in place, so when Tim finally relaxes, finally lets his body slump, it is obvious. He takes advantage.

By now, Tim makes little more than panting noises, all sounds forced from his chest with how roughly Ra’s grips him, how he moves him. Half-broken whines leave his throat when another bite is added to the growing collection on his skin. He’s going to look devoured come morning.

It doesn’t grow to be better as it does grow consistent. Tim falls into the motions, lets his eyes droop, lets himself go. Now, Ra’s doesn’t mind his disconnect. He’s stopped fighting, for the most part, and Ra’s feels as though he’s won.

Tim drifts.

He thinks about Kon. It’s hard not to. Tim’s peppered kisses along every finger that now leaves bruises along his hips too many times to count. The heat that keeps him warm has always reminded him of late spring days lying in grassy fields, of warm blankets after long nights, of arms that wrap around him protectively, loving, safe. It’s all the same body, same muscle memory as the hands holding him rubs circles into the dimples of his back with thumbs. It’s not Kon, but it is, some part is, and as Tim drifts it’s hard to forget he’s supposed to be fighting against this.

Ra’s holds him through it as he comes again, thick cum coating his insides once more, sloshing all together in him. Tim’s starting to truly feel it; starting to get uncomfortable. He attempts to shift just a bit, put pressure on a different part of his knees, something, but the TTK still refuses him any form of movement besides that of his head. They’ve reached the limit of how many times Kon’s come inside of him before and how long they usually go, but still the body behind him doesn’t wane.

Ra’s pulls out just long enough to drag his fingers through the mess that has already leaked out of Tim with the harsh thrusts, collecting the dribbles of cum only to push it all back inside of him, pressing deep enough to make Tim groan with it as the drops are added to the three loads already in him.

The unseen coils enveloping Tim loosen for just a moment as suddenly he’s flipped once more onto his back, his limbs able to jerk for a half-second before they’re pinned down again. Tim blinks, looking up at Ra’s still kneeling between his legs, still hard, still smiling at him with the wrong type of smile.

“I’m impressed,” Ra’s says, pushing his cock once more inside of Tim who only grunts with the intrusion. “For a half-clone, I’d have thought he’d have grown tired by now.”

A sharp, well, placed thrust makes Tim wince. His body is raw and red. He’s tired and feels too stretched out, too full. He lets his head loll to the side, not wanting to look up and see Conner, to live that fantasy when it’s not actually him.

Without the sheets to cover Tim’s face, Ra’s is quick to notice. He’s gentle when he pushes Tim’s cheek, almost like a suggestion, as he directs Tim’s head forward once more. He’s smiling at him, though it’s not what it was– the sharpness of it has fallen away to a soft, simple, quirk of the lips that have laughter behind them.

“What’s wrong?” It’s said in the right voice again. Kon’s voice. It makes Tim’s head swim. “You were just saying how much you loved me. Something change?”

It’s too perfect, too close. It makes Tim think that he’s dreaming or that he’s just hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Some small part inside of him snaps and his entire body shudders with the sob that now leaves him. The tears in his eyes before grow bigger, heavy, spilling over down his cheeks as suddenly the force around him is gone, his movements free, and all Tim can do is slide his hands down to cover Kon’s own, squeeze them as his legs spread and hips angle up.

It’s all Kon, but it’s not, and yet looking down at him now is Kon, it is and Tim cries all the harder.

His body aches. He barely feels it when Kon presses into him hard and comes once more. He’s starting to cramp. Kon keeps going.

Tim’s rolled over onto his side, leg thrown over Conner’s shoulder, the new position helping with the tightness of his back, but now he can feel so clearly just how much cum is inside of him, filling him to capacity.

There’s still tears rolling down his cheeks as the thick cock inside keeps going in and out, in and out. He swears by this point it should hurt more than it does, but Kon’s still wet with how many times he’s spilled into Tim and Tim’s so open he thinks he wouldn’t mind Kon pressing a few of his fingers in alongside his cock, but to voice that option Tim must find his ability to speak once more which is impossible at this point as choked noises are still falling from him with sharp inhales of oxygen taking up the rest of his throat.

Conner starts touching him. His hands slide from Tim’s hips up his thigh, to his knee, calf, ankle. Kon kisses him where his fingers touch, lips soft without the bite of teeth. His hands move back where they slide up Tim’s sides, trailing along each bump and valley of his ribs, tickling the sensitive skin found there. It’s all soft and asking forgiveness, ghosting over every scratch, bite, and blotchy marred patch of red and purple bruising as if to say sorry. It feels like Conner.

Tim’s chest heaves. He’s tired. He wants to go to sleep. Kon’s hips still jerk, dragging him to and fro.

There’s another gush of cum, his walls tightening as the cramping grows worse. He groans, fingers curling into the rumpled sheets of the bed as he just tries to hold on. There’s too much, he’s too full. He just wants Kon to pull out.

“Hush,” The voice above him says, sounding far off and dream-like. It’s not right, but it’s still Kon. “You can take a few more. I know you can.” There’s a press against Tim’s abdomen, digging deep, and he curls in on himself with the added pressure, wanting it to stop, but he’s soon forced by those invisible ropes back into place. The voice continues. “You’re not done just yet.”

Tim thinks he starts losing track of time. There’s too many sensations, too many different hands, voices. They’re all too much and too many all at once and he knows– knows this isn’t right, knows something is wrong. He wants it to end.

At some point, he’s moved once more onto his back. His muscles are so tight, but so tired at the same time. It’s hazy around the edges. There’s another convulsion, another feeling of the cock still moving, stabbing into him, pulsing over and over again. At some point, Kon finally starts to pant. Sweat. Tim looks up and he’s starting to look tired now– he hopes. His hips and stomach are killing him.

“Beautiful,” He hears and then there are fingers against his lips, pushing in along his teeth and tongue, going so far back Tim gags and sucks, drooling around the digits when he can’t manage to push them out. “You’re positively full, Timothy.”

Tim groans at that, the sound muffled by the fingers still exploring his mouth, but he manages to get his hands up, run them down his torso until he gets to his abdomen and feels–

He’s swollen. Round. Where his stomach once sat flat, he bulges large and full and Tim can feel his heart rate start to pick up. The panic starts to return, adrenaline quickly flooding his veins. His body begins to thrash once more against his binds.  

It’s an easy task for Ra’s to grab up Tim’s wrists in one hand and drag them above his head, pushing down hard to grind the bones together, making Tim wince and thrash all the harder.

The haze starts to leave him, his mind comes back to his body, disbelief removing himself as it starts to settle that this is once more real, happening, he’s not dreaming and he won’t wake up from this.

The fingers leave his mouth, wet and sticky, giving him room to shout and curse, but they move down to his stomach, pushing and rubbing almost fondly. It hurts. Tim’s too full, he can feel all the cum inside of him, pressing him open, making him too big, and Ra’s cock still hard, moving, driving into him over and over like it’s been doing for over an hour now.

“Stop!” Tim says when he finally finds words again. “It– hurts! Ra’s! T-too much!”

Of course, it doesn’t work. Ra’s only laughs, moves faster, using the super speed he’s inherited to thrust so hard into Tim now he fears his pelvis may break. The body above him is now just a blur, racing towards one more final completion, but Tim can’t take it. His body and mind have already been pushes far, far, too much as it is.

When Ra’s releases again, Tim barely feels it. His stomach expands just that fraction more, but he’s growing numb. Ra’s is moaning, clutching hard, mouth open in his pleasure, but the image is growing dark. Tim is fading.

Tim hears more laughter when he finally, blissfully, passes out. It’s a strange mix of Kon and Ra’s. He can’t tell which.

It’s dark out when Tim shoots up from bed, gasping. He’s not sure if it’s the same night or not, but when he looks down at himself he’s wearing pajama pants, cleaned up, but there’s still angry marks all along his body. In a panic, Tim touches his stomach, feels the flat plain of his abs, and nothing more. No bulge. No swelling. Still, panic rises up in his throat so much so he chokes on it.

When the bedroom door opens, spilling light into the black room, Tim jumps and goes for the hidden compartment once more, this time getting there fast enough, getting his staff, and swinging it out in defense.

Kon stands in the doorway, hands raised in surrender, looking not as shocked or afraid as Tim, but pretty close.

Tim’s heart jumps into his throat. “K-Kon?”

His eyes are clear and crisp and blue. They look like they sky, remind Tim of flying. He doesn’t make a move closer, just stands right where he is, hands up, and stares. There’s silence for a few beats until Tim’s arm twitch, readying to attack.

Kon swallows, breathes. “Tim–” It sounds like him. Tim hates how he wants to shudder. “Tim, it’s…it’s me.”

Slowly, Kon steps closer, making sure not to make any sudden movements. The bo staff trembles in Tim’s grasp as he gets closer, but Tim doesn’t swing. Kon’s close enough that he can slide his hand around it, ease the weapon from Tim’s grip as he climbs slowly onto the bed with him until, finally, he’s able to throw the staff down and wrap his arms around Tim, gathering him up tight.

Tim lets out a sob when he’s hugged, presses his face into Kon’s chest and squeezes his eyes shut tight. His hold on the other is so tight his hands tremble, knuckles grow white, and all Conner does is let him.

“I know, I know,” Kon breathes into Tim’s hair, kissing the top of his head, feeling as Tim falls apart in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Each dragged in lungful of air makes Tim’s throat burn, makes him feel weak, but he’s breathing in Conner who smells like sunshine and hay and the detergent they both use. He’s solid and holds Tim just on the edge of too much, feeling like one of his hugs when they’ve been apart from each other for too long.

“It’s me, it’s me,” He says, repeats, and Tim cries out his fears.

He might be dreaming. Or he might not be. He doesn’t know if this is a lie or not, he doesn’t know if this is actually Kon or if it’s Ra’s or something or someone else entirely. He holds onto the scent of Kon in his nose, remembers the blue of his eyes, how his arms feel wrapped entirely around him, warm and there and right.

He doesn’t know. He can’t trust him. He can’t trust himself.

Tim sobs and Kon whispers in his ear how it’s him, how he’s there, and Tim can’t believe him.

He can hear Ra’s laughing. Talking. Fucking him. Kon doing the same. The exact same. Tim didn’t figure it out. He couldn’t tell. He can’t believe him.  He can’t.

Not anymore.

Tim holds onto Kon harder, and tries.