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The problem with having a family as large and nosy as the Waynes is that there is never a moment of peace for Tim and his boyfriend.
Quiet moments of cuddling on the couch, tense arguments spent shouting in the kitchen, and heated kisses hidden within the privacy of Tim’s bedroom are often interrupted by his family’s summons and demands. Tim and Kon’s relationship is relatively new, but with their long friendship and extensive history, it feels much longer. Still, it’s been a month and a half and they haven’t gotten much further than passionate makeout sessions and some below-the-shirt action. Between Tim’s job as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, both of their studies at Goth U and Met U respectively, and their vigilante duties, there isn’t a lot of time for the two to have with each other. Tim is getting antsy.
It’s not that sex is super important to Tim. In fact, he’s pretty sure it matters less to him than it does to most, but he’s so attracted to Kon that he actually wants to initiate sex. More than that, Kon very clearly reciprocates, and Tim wants to take that step with him.
Back when Tim and Bernard were dating, they had sex regularly enough, though it was definitely less often than other couples. Even then, it was always a shy, almost awkward experience, though it wasn’t bad. Tim rarely initiated it, and when he did, he was usually much more focused on Bernard’s pleasure than his own, too worried that he wouldn’t be able to satisfy Bernard to actually enjoy it himself. Eventually, they decided they were better off as friends, and that was the extent of Tim’s sexual experience, unless the few makeout sessions he’d had with Steph as a teenager counted.
The problem now is that Tim wants to have sex with Kon. More than jerking off in bed alone or fingering himself in the shower, Tim wants to do these things with Kon. He didn’t feel that so deeply before with Steph or Bernard or the various girlfriends whose names he’s already forgotten. He’s not sure if he’s just a late bloomer or if it just took him a while to find the right person. The point is that Tim likes Kon — loves him, even — and he’s getting really fucking tired of being interrupted by his family.
—
The first time it happens, Tim and Kon are on the couch, both breathless despite Kon not needing to breathe, and completely shirtless. Tim straddles Kon’s thighs, tugging his fingers through his boyfriend’s curls as Kon’s hands switch between squeezing his hips with a strength that belies his powers and gently pinching his nipples in a way that makes Tim full-body shudder. Tim pants against Kon’s mouth, nibbling at the soft skin that’s secretly indestructible.
He wants Kon, needs him, needs to be closer and closer and closer to him until he’s in his skin, curled up under his harder-than-steel ribs, pressed against his beating heart. Fuck, he’s horny.
He brushes against the front of Kon’s shorts, and they both groan at the friction, Kon’s fingers tightening around Tim’s hips. “Fuck, Tim, do that again,” Kon says, sounding as desperate as Tim feels.
Tim complies, grinding down more purposefully and curling his fingers around the back of Kon’s neck, brushing against the buzzed hair of his undercut. Kon makes a noise of stifled pleasure and Tim silently agrees, licking into his mouth and swallowing down the sounds. Kon’s warm hands guide his hips back down again, and before Tim knows it, they’re both achingly hard and pressing against each other in slow, hard movements.
Kon’s fingers begin playing with the waistband of Tim’s boxers, and he breaks the kiss to ask, “Can I—”
“God, yes, Kon,” Tim’s answering before Kon can even finish, not caring if he sounds needy.
Just like that, Kon’s hands are in his boxers, kneading directly at the flesh of his ass, and Tim can’t help moaning loudly at the sensation. “Fuck, babe, you’re so hot,” Kon whispers into Tim’s mouth, “You sound like a fuckin’ pornstar, baby.”
The words are more of a turn-on for Tim than he thought they’d be, and he tugs at Kon’s curls. Tim can’t do any damage, Kon won’t even feel any pain from it, but he groans and leans into the sensation regardless. It somehow makes sense that Kon would be a bit of a masochist, even if there’s nothing Tim can actually do to hurt him like this. It’s probably something about the vulnerability, the power dynamic, that turns Kon on. “Speak for yourself,” Tim murmurs, “You look like a wet dream.”
“Your wet dream, I hope.”
Tim grins, “I dunno, babe, I’ve seen some pretty thirsty Supernova fans out there.”
“Yeah, but they don’t get to have me like this,” Kon teases with a devious smirk as he uses his TTK to guide Tim’s hands over his pecs, the warmth of his actual hands still squeezing at Tim’s ass possessively.
“So, you’re all mine?” Tim asks, his voice husky and low as he presses his ass against the rock-hard length he feels beneath him.
Kon throws his head onto the back of the couch with a muffled noise of pleasure. He looks at Tim with half-lidded eyes foggy from lust and says, “Yeah, all yours.”
Something feral in Tim wants to lean down and bite at the exposed skin of Kon’s neck until he leaves a mark. “One day, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you can’t walk,” Tim says, his voice hoarse with passionate intent.
“Mm, please do,” Kon answers, and he’s not teasing at all this time.
Tim leans in, kissing at Kon’s ear and jawline as Kon’s warm hands grope at the smooth skin of his ass. There’s something sexy in the way he switches between squeezing hard enough to bruise and petting gently like he’s afraid to hurt Tim. They both groan as the underside of Tim’s clothed cock drags across Kon’s own erection. Tim’s about to open his mouth and ask Kon how far he wants to go when a sharp set of knocks crack through the apartment from the front door. They both pause, Kon’s hands stilling on his ass as Tim’s hips stop moving. “Should w—” Kon starts.
“Just ignore it, baby, maybe they’ll go away,” Tim says, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss on Kon’s neck, sucking hard despite the fact that he can’t leave a hickey.
Kon doesn’t argue, continuing to pinch at his ass as he drags Tim’s hips down against the hard line of heat in his shorts, causing them both to groan at the sensation. There’s another series of knocks from the door, this time much louder and followed by Jason’s indignant voice, which demands, “Open up, Timbo! I know you’re in there!”
“Motherfucker,” Tim growls.
Kon’s hands leave his ass as Tim stands up, grabbing the sweatpants he discarded earlier in the hopes that they’ll hide the tent in his boxers. Hastily, he shrugs on the Supernova tank top that Kon pulled off of him half an hour ago. He waits a few moments, picturing the least sexy thing he can think of — Ra’s al Ghul wearing a bikini — before he opens the door, already glaring at Jason, whose fist is raised and ready to knock again. “Jesus, Timberlina, what the hell took ya so long?” Jason exclaims, “Thought I was gonna grow old an’ die all over again waitin’ out here for yer slow ass!”
Tim rolls his eyes. Jason is easily the most theatrical person in their family, only occasionally outdone by Bruce. “What do you want, Jason?” he sighs exasperatedly.
“For you to get yer ass ready so we can go already. I think I parked inna tow-zone.”
The annoyance gives way to confusion. “Go where?” Tim asks.
Jason’s dressed in civvies, so it can’t be vigilante business, and he doesn’t remember making undercover plans on a random Sunday. “Uh, family dinner, duh,” Jason snarks, “You’ve got a worse track record than me when it comes to these things, and I literally died. Dickface wants us all there to celebrate some award the demon brat got from an art competition.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Tim groans, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation, “I am not going to that shitfest.”
“You’ve missed the last three and it’s breakin’ Alfie’s heart,” Jason argues, and Tim hates that he has a point.
“Fine,” Tim gives in, “Gimme five minutes.”
And just like that, he’s throwing on something more acceptable than a tank top and loose sweatpants while apologizing profusely to Kon. “—always nagging and he’s gonna be on my ass all week if I miss this stupid dinner, even though it’s not like he—”
“Babe, it’s okay, I get it. No worries, yeah? I have a test I should really be studying for anyway,” Kon says placatingly, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he puts a soothing hand on Tim’s back to rest between his shoulder blades.
Tim’s shoulders sag in equal parts relief and disappointment. “Yeah, okay. We can, um, continue another time?”
Kon snorts, leaning in close in an unfairly attractive manner that makes Tim’s whole face feel like it’s on fire. “Yeah? You wanna do this again, baby?” he asks, sliding his hand down Tim’s back to cup his ass, sounding sexier than anything Tim’s ever heard.
He must hear Tim’s heart pounding in his chest, because he presses a chaste kiss to his cheek and then pulls away, laughing. He pushes Tim towards the door, where Jason is waiting outside, and gives him a playful pat on the ass. “Don’t worry, Rob, there’s always next time,” Kon says, winking as Tim leaves.
—
The second time it happens, the lights are dimmed, Tim’s got some music from somebody’s “songs i wanna get fucked slow and hard to” playlist playing low in the background, and they’re both naked on Tim’s bed. Having been teammates for so many years, there’s little of each other that they haven’t seen, but there’s a big difference between glimpsing flashes of bare skin right before hitting the showers and getting to admire the full view of Kon’s bare body on his bed. The sight of Kon’s smooth, tanned skin and dark curls against the white sheets, his electric blue eyes practically glowing, his bitten lips…
Fuck, he’s like a statue of a Greek god. Tim would have felt self conscious about his pallor and scarred skin if Kon hadn’t been saying sweet things like, “You’re so beautiful, sugar,” and “God, babe, I wanna ruin you.”
Kon’s caging him in with an arm, and he’s got a hand wrapped around them both. Tim can feel a pleasant warmth building in his gut every time Kon drags his hand up or squeezes. He thinks he might actually pass out from how lightheaded he gets when Kon looks him in the eyes and says, “You like that, babydoll?”
He’s lost somewhere between whining, “Please, Kon, faster,” and unintelligible curses that his mother would be appalled by when the phone rings. He nearly grabs it and throws it out the window, but he recognizes the ringtone as the one he set for Bruce, whom he can’t ignore. He snatches the phone off the side table and answers the call, perhaps more sharply than he should, “What?”
Kon has released his grip on their cocks and moved down, running his unnaturally warm hands down Tim’s thighs and calves as he presses unbearably loving kisses across his chest, dragging the flat of his tongue over Tim’s nipples. He looks up at Tim, questioning the phone call with an eyebrow, and Tim makes the sign for ‘Batman’ with his free hand as he listens to Bruce. Crushingly, Bruce is calling to ask where the hell he is, because there’s a gala dinner he’s supposed to be attending in an hour, and he still has to get ready.
Tim genuinely considers quitting his job and faking his own death so he can just be a normal twenty year old in college about to get completely railed by his boyfriend. Further down the bed, Kon has begun gently thumbing at the crease of Tim’s hips, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his hipbones. Tim is absolutely aching, his cock leaking precum against his stomach as he arches into the wet contact. The sight of Kon’s half-lidded eyes looking up at him as he swipes precum off Tim’s abs with his tongue is doing something to Tim’s head. There’s nothing he wants to do more than receive the blowjob Kon is certainly about to offer, especially because Tim knows Cadmus didn’t give him a gag reflex, and he’s desperate to test it out. He imagines laying on the bed with his hips pinned down as Kon’s mouth does filthy things to him in between his legs. He’s shaken out of the thought by the sound of his dad’s voice saying, “Tim! Tim, are you listening to me? It’s incredibly important that you attend. Your appearance will throw Vale off your tracks, and, if we’re lucky, you might be able to get Cullwhip drunk enough to admit to funding Scarecrow. He refuses to be around me longer than a minute after that incident with the prawns, but you’re a new enough face that it’s worth a shot.”
Holy boner-killer Batman! Nothing is less sexy than Bruce’s voice when he’s plotting subterfuge. “Jesus fucking Christ, B,” Tim groans, threading his fingers through the top of Kon’s curls gently so he can pet the baby hairs on his forehead with his thumb.
“Language,” Bruce says on autopilot, sounding so dad-like that Tim can’t even look down at Kon’s face without feeling the urge to smash his own head into the headboard until he loses consciousness.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll be there in twenty,” Tim says, incredibly pent up and bone-deep annoyed. Boner-deep, one might say. Kon would find that funny. Tim sighs.
He hangs up the phone, ignoring Bruce prattling on about how sneaky Cullwhip has been with his new line of gas masks, and lets the phone fall from his hand onto the bed, dragging the other down his face as he experiences the greatest disappointment known to man. Kon leaves a nearly chaste kiss against the sharp jut of Tim’s iliac crest, almost like a farewell, before he crawls back up to lay next to Tim. “Duty calls?” he asks, sounding both sympathetic and amused.
“Duty can go fuck itself so I can fuck your mouth,” Tim mutters back.
Kon throws his head back in a laugh, and the sight is so pretty Tim wishes he had his camera with him. “Oh, birdie, don’t you worry your pretty little head off. You’ll have plenty more chances for that,” he says, a dark twinkle of desire glimmering in his eyes, “I won’t disappoint, I’ve been practicing.”
Tim’s jaw drops, eyes wide open, because what.
The image of Kon practicing how to give a blowjob, thinking of Tim, using his fingers or his TTK, perhaps even an actual toy…
Fuck. Tim is so fucking fucked for when they finally get to actually have sex. He’s not gonna last a minute, judging by the way his neglected cock throbs between his legs at the image of Kon drooling on a dildo while thinking of him.
“Kon!” Tim exclaims, feeling very petulant, “You can’t just say that, Jesus!”
Kon doesn’t seem to give a shit, because he’s already leaning in to give Tim a sloppy kiss that tastes salty from—
Oh god, Tim thinks, that taste is from me.
He’s already shoving his tongue down Kon’s throat, trying to taste every square inch of the inside of his mouth. “God, do you, mmph, have any idea, hah, how fucking hot you are? You’re so, mm, fuckable,” Tim groans in between wet smacks as he sucks on Kon’s lower lip.
He can feel his boyfriend grinning against his mouth, “I have a pretty good guess,” he says, stroking the faintest trails of TTK fingers up and down the length of Tim’s weeping cock.
“Fuck, Kon, ah, we can’t, I have to go before Bruce tracks me down,” he insists, panting as he fights the urge to buck up into the invisible hand that’s teasing him.
“You sure we don’t have time? He won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late,” Kon pouts.
“Unless you want Batman coming through the window and finding us doing whatever you’re planning, I’d hold off,” Tim answers dryly.
“Aw,” Kon whines, unfairly cute. “Too bad. We’ll have to wait until next time,” he says with a cocky grin. Tim wants to kiss it off him.
In a sudden rush of affection that’s not at all sexual, Tim squeezes the soft plush of Kon’s face and plants a kiss on the tip of his nose, gently stroking under his eye with a thumb. “I love you,” Tim whispers, certain that this is the truest it’s ever been.
Kon’s mouth opens in an ‘O’ as he blinks up at Tim, “I love you too,” he says, pressing forward to give Tim a long, slow, sweet kiss. “You’re my Robin, always will be,” he says when they part.
Tim grins, “And you’ll always be my clone boy.”
They knock their foreheads together for a tender, gentle moment, and then the phone is ringing again, summoning Tim once more to the gala he just found out about.
—
The third time it happens, Tim’s got two fingers in Kon’s mouth, watching with desire as he does something truly sinful with his tongue. He’s straddling Kon’s hips on the bed, one hand pinning his superpowered boyfriend’s hands down as if Kon couldn’t obliterate him in less than a second if he wished. The hottest part about it is how Kon doesn’t resist, instead going limp and jerking his hips whenever Tim squeezes around his wrists. “You’re such a good boy, Kon,” he murmurs as his other hand slowly pulls out from Kon’s mouth to smear spit over the other man’s lips.
The truly pathetic whine that escapes Kon sends a dangerously heady wave of heat down from Tim’s head straight to his rock-hard cock. “You like that?” Tim asks, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face, “You like being a good boy for me?”
Kon’s eyes flutter shut and his cock twitches against his belly, leaking precum. Tim slips his fingers back into Kon’s mouth, slowly fucking them in and out just to see the way his plush lips look glistening with spit. There’s something mesmerizing about the way Kon sucks at the fingers, careful to keep his teeth away. He sucks like he was made for it, like he’s sucking to save his life, like he really, truly gets off on it. In fact, he does, judging by his own erection. Fuck. That’s so hot. Tim pulls his fingers out and releases Kon’s wrist. He picks up the bottle of lube, which he abandoned earlier in favor of seeing how much he could make Kon whimper. Kon makes a whining noise at the loss of fingers, opening his eyes only to groan and bite his lip at the sight of Tim pouring lube onto his fingers. He watches with half-lidded eyes and unconcealed lust as Tim reaches behind himself and starts to slowly press a finger inside. He’s got his hands on Tim’s thighs, squeezing them rhythmically and observing the way Tim’s thighs tremble when he pushes another finger inside. “Baby,” Kon starts, his voice hoarse and desperate, “Can I—can I do that for you?”
Tim’s almost surprised, but it’s Kon, so it somehow just makes sense. When he and Bernard were together, Tim would generally prep himself if he was bottoming. It wasn’t that Bernard didn’t want to, but rather that neither of them was particularly interested in the thought of doing so. Maybe Tim was just afraid of being vulnerable like that. It’s different with Kon though. He knows his boyfriend has already seen all of him, knows that he’s seen the worst and best parts of him, knows that he’s stayed through it all, knows that Kon knows Tim. There is a part of Tim’s soul that will always be Kon’s, and he knows that Kon wants him just as much as he wants Kon.
“Yeah,” he answers, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Kon sits up, shifting in a way that they both groan at when their hard cocks rub against one another. Tim pulls his finger out, biting his lip at the uncomfortable emptiness, and wipes the tacky lube off on the sheets. Kon presses a gentle kiss on Tim’s cheek as he wraps his arms around Kon’s neck. If not for the position they’re in, it would seem almost chaste. Kon grabs the bottle of lube and pours some onto his fingers, setting it down and moving his hands behind Tim. He rubs against Tim’s hole with a finger, and Tim can’t help the startled gasp that escapes him. Kon’s other hand squeezes at Tim’s ass, rhythmically massaging as if to soothe him. Slowly, so gentle it’s almost agonizing, he presses a finger in. Tim’s already relaxed and a bit open from his own prepping, so there’s only a little stretch. Still, Kon’s fingers are slightly thicker and longer than his own, and they’re warm in the way that all Kryptonians seem to be. “Is that okay?” Kon asks, sounding slightly unsure.
There’s a muffled noise from Tim, whose face is buried in Kon’s shoulder, focused on the feeling of the finger inside of him. He nods, his face still pressed against the junction of Kon’s neck and shoulder. “Fine. Keep—keep going,” he says, his voice embarrassingly weak.
“Think you can take another one?” Kon asks, so loving that Tim has to leave a kiss on his neck.
“Yeah. ‘S good, you can—you can do another,” he answers.
Kon eases a second finger in, careful and gentle and unfairly perfect. He can feel himself stretching around the fingers, but Kon is so careful that it feels less painful and more strange. He thrusts his fingers in and out slowly, aided by the lube, and Tim closes his eyes and focuses on relaxing his muscles. Then, more suddenly than a lightning strike, a sharp burst of pleasure erupts from where Kon’s fingers are pressed inside him. His whole body jerks back against Kon’s fingers, and he can’t help the loud noise he makes at the all-consuming pleasure of the press against his prostate. He can feel more than see the grin that spreads across his boyfriend’s face at the noise. “Good?” Kon asks cockily as if he wasn’t whimpering just from sucking Tim’s fingers mere minutes ago.
“Sh-shut up—ah, Kon, ah,” Tim says, his voice breaking when Kon prods the sensitive nerves again.
“What was that?” Kon asks with a smirk.
Tim groans and buries his face in the side of Kon’s neck, his mouth open and panting. Tim cants his hips back, chasing the wonderful sensation, but Kon’s fingers pull away, only to add more lube. They slip back in fast enough that Tim can’t even whine at the loss, too busy with the sensation of three thick, warm fingers inside of him. It’s just so good. He’s burning up, heat emanating from between his legs, and he really can’t contain the breathy moans of pleasure that slip out. “Fuck, babe, you’re so hot,” Kon breathes, sounding awed.
Tim can’t focus enough to say anything, so he just whimpers in response, clutching onto Kon as if for dear life. He rocks back against the fingers, his nerves lighting up with pleasure as Kon massages his prostate and their cocks rub against one another. “Kon, ohmygod, right there,” Tim breathes, his voice shaky and weak, “Yes, ah, ah, K-Kon, I, ngh, Kon, please, harder, I, f-fuck, I need, ah, need—”
It’s right about then that a shattering crash sounds from the kitchen. “Oh no,” comes the recognizable voice of one very dejected Cassandra Wayne.
Both of them startle, including Kon, who has super hearing and would have been able to hear Cass when she entered had he not been distracted. Tim has never been less enthused to hear his sister’s voice before. Kon reluctantly withdraws his fingers, patting Tim’s hip sympathetically at the disappointed whine he lets out. “Little brother?” she calls, “Is little brother here?”
“One sec, Cass,” Tim calls back, “I’ll be right there!”
Tim lifts himself off of Kon’s lap, mourning the warmth of the skin contact as he pulls his boxers and pajama pants on. He tugs on the nearest sweater he finds, hoping it’ll cover the flush that has spread down his entire body. Hastily, he runs to the bathroom and washes his hands, splashing his face with cold water and forcing down the horny thoughts.
He rushes to leave the bedroom, half hopping as he skids down a hallway until he reaches the kitchen. Tim is greeted with the sight of his sister standing in his kitchen as awkwardly as a prima ballerina can. His coffee machine lays broken on the ground with coffee grounds and paper filters scattered amidst the mess of glass and plastic. “Broken,” Cass says sadly, pointing towards the coffee machine like he can’t see it.
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in a Bruce-like manner, “Yes, Cass, I see that. And how, pray tell, did that happen?”
Her pout turns faintly guilty, “Tried to make coffee for little brother. But… confusing. Buttons beeped, so I… shook it. It fell. Heavy.”
“Cass,” he says, exasperated even though he can’t bring himself to be angry at her ever since Dick taught her how to weaponize puppy dog eyes.
She turns to face him, and the disappointed look on her face melts into realization as she takes in his appearance, and then smug glee. “Little brother was busy,” she says with a smirk.
His face turns bright red, and he knows that only confirms it for her. Honestly it was stupid of him to think she wouldn’t notice. He keeps his lips pressed shut, refusing to admit or deny what they both know she’s insinuating. There’s a knowing look on her face that says, “I know what you were doing, but I’m not gonna say I know what you were doing, so instead I’m gonna stare at you so you know I know what you were doing, and you’re going to either admit it or feel really awkward.”
They stare at each other silently, a standoff between brother and sister, neither willing to back down, one growing progressively more similar to a tomato in demeanor and the other growing more and more self-satisfied.
“Heyyy, good to see you again, Cass!” Kon says, sliding into the kitchen far too casually to be anything but flustered.
Cass perks up, her whole face lighting up as she connects the final dots. She stifles her giggles and wiggles her eyebrows at Tim gloatingly, who really can’t do anything but bury the blush on his cheeks under his hands. “Not a word of this to anyone, Cass, you hear me?”
She pretends to think it over, and he has to remind himself that she would beat his ass into next Tuesday in a fight. “No promises,” she snickers.
Tim narrows his eyes at her. She sticks her tongue out at him mockingly. “Alright, that’s it!” he screeches as he lunges for her.
Cass shrieks wildly at the surprise attack, and then they’re both wrestling on the floor in the dusty mess of the coffee grounds. Cass splutters and coughs as she inhales a faceful of coffee grounds, but she manages to wrangle Tim into a crucifix choke within seconds. She cackles at him as he flails, then yelps when he manages to bite her forearm and wriggle out of the hold. His victory is short-lived, as she manages to catch him in a triangle choke moments after his escape. “Okay, calm down!” Kon exclaims, “Honestly, you Bats can never settle anything without your fists.”
Tim and Cass twist to shoot him twin glares, and he shrinks under the force of their conjoined wrath. “Woahhhkay, I sense I’ve said something wrong,” he says as he backs away slowly.
Tim and Cass send each other matching looks of, “Get him?” They nod to one another. “Get him.”
Kon howls in terror as the two team up to chase him down.
—
The fourth time it happens, Tim’s got a mouthful of cock and even less patience than last time. Kon’s hands pull on his hair, gentle so he won’t hurt Tim, but harsh enough that Tim’s own cock is rock hard, leaving him humping his hand desperately as he drools on Kon’s cock. Kon’s hips twitch and the tip hits the back of Tim’s throat, forcing a helpless moan out of him. He can’t help it, not when it feels so good to have his lips stretched around Kon’s considerable length. He could do this forever, he thinks, sucking on Kon’s cock. It’s messy, and his jaw aches, but nothing’s ever felt as right as this.
He’s been aware of his intense kink for giving head for years, even before he and Kon started dating. Back when he was dating Bernard, he used to spend actual hours sucking him off or warming his cock with his mouth. Still, nothing compares to Kon’s pulsing hot length, fucking his face like he’s nothing more than a hole. “Fuck, babydoll, you look so pretty on your knees,” Kon groans, thrusting forward an inch just to watch spit dribble down Tim’s chin from the corners of his lips as he tries to accommodate the large cock in his mouth.
“God, Tim, ‘s like you were made for this, made to take my cock, so fuckin’ pretty, your mouth is perfect. Feels like heaven, baby, you’re so good at this,” Kon moans, grinding into Tim to feel the plush velvet of his tongue and the massage of his throat as he tries to swallow around the cock.
The praise goes straight to Tim’s cock, and he squeezes himself desperately. Tim feels drunk as he chokes on Kon’s cock, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he squeezes his own neglected cock. “Fuck, Tim, I wanna keep your mouth full like this all the time. You’re so fuckin’ desperate for it,” Kon grunts, using both his hands to keep Tim’s head steady as he uses his mouth.
He’d let him, he thinks, he wouldn’t even mind it. He’d probably like it, in fact. Definitely. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this, so pretty, fuck, Tim,” he moans, thumbing over the obscene bulge in Tim’s throat as he bottoms out, “You’re so good at suckin’ cock, baby. Fuck, you like this?”
Tim can’t speak or even nod his head, not with the way Kon’s entire length is in his mouth and down his throat. Instead, he pushes down even further, nuzzling his nose into the dark, wiry hairs at the base of Kon’s cock. “Oh, Tim, shit, baby, you’re so good to me,” Kon moans as Tim swirls his tongue the best he can, swallowing around it just to feel the thickness, “Just like that, baby, yeah, use your tongue like that. God, you suck like fuckin’ whore. Jesus, you were fuckin’ made to suck cock, you’re so fuckin’ hard for it, you desperate bitch. You fuckin’ get off on this, fuck, you’re such a fuckable cockslut, fuck, Tim, yeah, you like that, don’t you?”
Tim moans helplessly, whining as Kon pulls out momentarily only to slam back in, wrecking his throat. He’s drooling in pleasure, spit coating his lips as he licks and sucks like he was made for it. He does like it. He likes it when Kon uses him and fucks his face and calls him a “fuckin’ whore, desperate bitch, fuckable cockslut,” because it’s true and he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees with Kon’s cock in his mouth. He can see Kon’s cunt, neglected and slick, and he swears to whatever gods there are that he’s eventually absolutely going to make Kon come without touching his dick at all. First though, he’s going to make Kon come down his throat.
Pleasure wraps itself around him like a vice, and he can tell both he and Kon are close. His thighs burn and his whole body trembles as he bobs his head up and down, working his tongue over the length. He’s ready for this, ready to swallow Kon’s cum, ready to choke on it while he comes in his pants, ready to—
The sound of the front door opening startles them both out of their reverie. “Timmyyyyy! I brought groceries!”
Tim chokes, this time in a less fun way, and he muffles his coughs in the bed’s comforter when he pulls his lips away from Kon’s cock. Kon is already hastily pulling his pants up, hissing, “What the hell is your brother doing here?”
Tim doesn’t know either, so he whisper-shouts back, “Fuck if I know!”
“Timmy? Where are you? Are you awake?” Dick’s voice calls, getting closer.
“I’m here!” Tim shouts back, “Just got outta the shower, gimme a second!”
“Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Dick says, but he sounds impatient enough that Tim knows he can’t stall for long.
Tim turns to Kon and gestures to the window, waving his arms frantically. Whispering, he says, “Go, before he busts in here,” to Kon, who looks like sin.
His hair is a mess and his lips are red from biting them, his cheeks flushed with a sheen of sweat. Tim wants nothing more than to get back on his knees and finish the job, but Dick’s already making a racket in his kitchen, and he would actually rather jump off a cliff without a grappling hook than be caught sucking cock by his brother.
Kon moves towards the window like a scolded puppy, then rushes back to Tim, pressing an almost chaste kiss to his lips. If not for the way Kon licks his own lips afterwards, tasting himself from Tim’s lips, it would be almost innocent. As it is, Kon’s out the window with super speed and Tim’s left with a super boner. He’s about ready to bash his head into the wall when a loud crashing sound comes from the kitchen, followed by a yelp. Tim does a breathing exercise he learned during his Robin training, fighting back a giggle at the knowledge that Bruce would be mortified to learn what he’s using his training for. Once the tent in his pants has gone down enough that it’s no longer noticeable, he steps out of his room and makes his way to the kitchen.
“There you are!” Dick exclaims cheerfully, a manic look in his eyes, “I was starting to think you ran off! C’mere, I’m making pancakes!”
Tim cocks his head, but doesn’t comment on his brother’s behavior just yet. If he’s lucky, his brother will explain himself without Tim having to say a thing. His throat is still sore from…
Well.
“How many do you want?” Dick asks as he measures out the ingredients into a mixing bowl Tim didn’t even know he owned.
Tim shrugs. “I’m not particularly hungry,” he says, thinking about how much he’d much rather have something else in his mouth.
Dick’s brows furrow in mild concern, “Are you coming down with something?”
“Huh?” Tim asks.
“You don’t have an appetite and your voice sounds awful. Are you sick? Do you have a sore throat?”
Well, yes, but not for the reasons Dick seems to think. Tim swallows. “Nah, I probably just need some water,” he lies as he moves around Dick to grab a glass to really sell it.
“Well, I’m here because I have to talk with you. You’re, uhh, probably not going to like this,” Dick says with an awkward wince as he whisks the pancake batter.
Tim raises an eyebrow as he fills his glass. “Okaaay… What’s this about?”
Dick avoids his eyes, looking at the ceiling as if it will save him. “As your big brother, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you’re… being safe.”
Tim snorts as he raises the glass to his lips. This is just another classic case of Dick being overprotective. “Yes, Dick, I’m being safe. I triple check all my equipment and I never go into a serious fight without backup,” he reassures, taking a sip of cold water once he finishes speaking to soothe his aching throat.
“Tim, are you and Conner having sex?”
Tim spits his water out, half of it coming out of his nose. “What?” he chokes out.
Dick puts his hands on his hips like a suburban mom. “Well? Are you not? I have credible sources that say otherwise.”
Tim glares and hisses, “Cass blabbed, didn’t she?”
Dick deflates at the confirmation. “Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before my baby brother started growing up and doing adult things—”
“Dick, I’m twenty! I dated Bernard for a year and a half! I’ve had,” he pauses awkwardly before continuing full steam, “I’ve had sex before!”
Dick’s eyes widen like this is news to him, and Tim slowly realizes that’s because it is. “But—but—you and Bernard—that was—you didn’t—ohmygod—I thought you two were—ohmygod—but, Timmy, you two were practically babies!” he exclaims, wringing his hands as if his worldview has been shattered.
Tim’s face is flaming as he responds, “We were seventeen when we started dating, Dick.”
Dick drags his hands down his face. “Well, okay, fine, whatever, but are you and Kon at least being, y’know, careful?”
Tim wants to curl up into a ball and die so he can pretend his brother isn’t asking him if he and his boyfriend are practicing safe sex. Dick continues saying something about silicone-based lube and Kryptonian biology and — for some godforsaken reason — BDSM, but Tim sticks his fingers in his ears and starts hollering, “LALALALA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” at the top of his lungs.
“That’s not very mature of you,” Dick says with a roll of his eyes when Tim finally stops.
Annoyed, Tim mutters under his breath, “Bet you’d think I was a lot more mature if you knew what I was doing ten minutes ago.”
“What was that?” Dick asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” Tim answers, an innocent smile on his face, “Now, about those pancakes…”
—
The fifth time it happens, all Tim can think is that it’s not fair that every time they get close to actually fully fucking, something — or rather, someone — gets in the way.
Tim’s got his face buried in between Kon’s legs, a hand on Kon’s dick and his mouth on Kon’s clit, suckling gently as he dips his fingers into Kon’s wet folds. Kon’s back is arched off the bed and he’s too busy making the sweetest sounds Tim’s ever heard in his life to say much more than desperate words begging for more. He pulls away momentarily to admire his boyfriend, licking his lips and slowly thrusting two fingers in and out of Kon’s dripping cunt as his other hand squeezes the base of Kon’s cock and drags up just slowly enough for it to be cruel. He watches in awe as Kon grinds down onto his fingers, desperate for friction. “Tim, ah, Jesus fuck, plea—ah, please,” Kon pleads, the walls of his cunt clenching around Tim’s fingers as he bucks up into Tim’s loose fist.
Heat pools low in Tim’s belly at the glazed over look in Kon’s eyes. “You beg so pretty, babe,” he croons meanly, relishing in the sob that builds in Kon’s throat as he fucks himself on Tim’s fingers, which have now stopped moving, “What do you think people would say if they knew Supernova was all wet and desperate from a few fingers?”
“Ngh—Tim, Rob, please, please,” Kon whines, “I need—ah, ah, fuck, plea—hhhng—”
Tim crawls up and presses a hot, wet kiss to Kon’s lips, which — despite Kon not needing to breathe — are too busy panting for air to kiss him back properly. “You taste that? That’s you, Kon, you got so wet just for me, baby. Such a good boy, you want me to shove my cock in you, don’t you? You want me to fuck you like the bitch you are,” he says, teasing as he presses his tongue against Kon’s.
Kon moans against Tim’s lips, his mouth falling open as he drools, “Tim, please!”
“Please what? Use your words, pretty thing, I don’t know what you want if you don’t say it,” Tim says, his voice low and his lips turning up into a vicious smirk as he gently pets the lips of Kon’s pussy as if he owns it.
Kon’s head presses back on the pillow, and he arches his back up again in a way that’s so unbearably pretty it makes Tim want to fuck him silly. “Tim, please, your fingers, mph—move them, please, I wan—ah, ah, Tim, ohmygod, yes, oh, nnngh, yes, Tim, ah, ah,” Kon moans sweetly, his words turning to gibberish as Tim finally presses deep within and curls his fingers to press up against his G-spot.
Tim moves back down to mouth at Kon’s clit again, flicking it with his tongue and grinning at the way Kon’s whole body trembles at the stimulation. The sensitive nub is swollen and red, desperate for attention, and Kon shudders hard when Tim latches his lips around it and sucks. Slick wetness pours out around his fingers, coating his lips and chin, and Tim can tell Kon’s close because of how his words have been reduced to incoherent moans and babbles. “Tim, Tim, Tim,” Kon whines, chanting his name like a prayer, “More, ple—ah, ah, there, right there, please, ‘s so good, mmph, I’m so, ah, ah, fu—ah, harder, Tim, please, hhhhng—”
At that moment, the alarm system in Tim’s apartment begins blaring, an automated voice repeating, “INTRUDER!” as the lights flash.
“What the fuck—” Tim growls, withdrawing his fingers from Kon’s needy pussy as Kon whines and sits up, looking utterly debauched and very pissed off, still leaking onto his own stomach and dripping onto the sheets.
Tim wipes his hands on the sheets and pulls a pair of loose sweatpants on, grabbing the collapsible bo staff he keeps behind the headboard of his bed and willing his erection away with the thought of Brucie Wayne tripping over air directly into a chocolate fountain. On the bed, Kon pulls his boxers back on, clearly holding back from shoving a hand between his thighs and finishing the job himself out of sheer frustration. Kon doesn’t bother putting a shirt on, choosing instead to wrap himself in the sheets as he huffs at the disturbance, obviously having decided that the intruder isn’t worth his time.
Tim steps out silently into the hallway, peering around to the kitchen, where a shadowed figure is…
Making tea.
“Damian!” Tim scolds, “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my apartment?”
Damian turns and takes a slow sip of his (read: Tim’s) tea, considering Tim’s appearance. “Timothy. I decided to conduct a welfare check on your health at Richard’s behest and a surprise inspection of your alarm system and security.”
“And you thought you should just break in? Really? I was sleeping. Y’know, like a normal person,” Tim scoffs, not feeling guilty for the lie in the least.
“An interrupted nap is not the end of the world, Timothy, do not be dramatic. The enemy will not wait for you to wake. Besides, you look awful,” Damian sneers.
“Real mature,” Tim growls, reminding himself that he cannot punch a fifteen year old, no matter how much he would like to.
“Do not be juvenile. You are clearly ill, judging by the state of your hair and what I assume to be a fever. Have you forgotten your lack of a spleen, you dimwit? You cannot afford to be wasting away like this. Come along now, I shall graciously escort you to the manor,” Damian says snootily, unaware that the flush on Tim’s face is from vigorously eating out his boyfriend and that the tangles in his hair are from having his boyfriend’s fingers curled in the strands as he humped his face.
“What? No! I’m not coming with you. Piss off, brat, I have better things to do. Go find someone else to bother.”
“Very well, I suppose I have no choice but to return alone, at which point I shall inform Pennyworth of your illness,” Damian responds with a self-satisfied nod and a certain smugness that says he knows he’s won.
“I’m not sick!” Tim argues.
“Yes, because you have such a trustworthy track record when it comes to these things,” Damian counters, raising his (read: Tim’s) mug to his lips once more as his eyebrow quirks up in disbelief.
“I’m not! I was just—”
“Sleeping, you have already said as much, and that provides no explanation for your haggard visage unless it is accompanied by the fact that you are obviously unwell. Hurry up, Timothy, I will not wait forever,” Damian says, already exiting the apartment as though he expects Tim to follow without further argument.
Tim weighs his options. Go with Damian, get checked over by Alfred, be deemed healthy and allowed to return home in a few hours OR stay in the apartment, return to eating Kon out, and have Alfred himself drag him to the manor for a checkup.
The idea of being interrupted during sex by Alfred of all people is actually mortifying. He’d be too scared by the possibility to even get it up. Tim sighs, “Fuck my life,” and then, “Sorry, Kon,” under his breath, hoping his boyfriend will understand.
Kon has definitely been listening to the entire exchange, so Tim doesn’t have to worry about letting his boyfriend know what’s going on, but he’s definitely still pissed off by the disturbance. Tim returns to the manor with Damian, checking his phone along the way to find a message from Kon of an audio clip that makes his pupils dilate in curiosity. At the manor, Alfred examines him, and finds that he is, in fact, in the early stages of strep throat. Fuck. He waits until he’s safe in the confines of his own room and then plays the audio clip from Kon.
Clearly, Kon decided to take matters into his own hands.
Tim jerks off desperately to the sound of Kon moaning around his fingers as he alternates between stroking himself and fingering his pussy with his other hand. Tim loses it and finishes in tandem with his boyfriend’s voice when Kon whimpers, “Tim, ah, Tim!” and comes on his fingers.
He knows Kon was listening to the whole thing because he sends a message asking for pics the moment the aftershocks of his orgasm have worn off. Tim sends back a picture of his cum drying on his stomach, and Kon sends back a picture of three of his fingers shoved up his cunt, which greedily sucks them in. Tim has to jerk off again, this time to the combination of the audio file and the picture.
Tomorrow, he vows, he will fuck his boyfriend properly the way he deserves.
Tomorrow, he wakes up and finds that the strep throat has made short work of him. He’s bedridden for a week and a half, too drained from illness to even jerk off.
—
After a two weeks of slow, miserable recovery and late night calls with Kon, Tim is finally deemed well enough to leave the manor. He’s still got a sniffle in his nose, and his muscles are a bit shaky, but it’s nothing he can’t push through. The thought of the pile of work waiting for him makes him feel nauseous, but he really can’t put it off any longer, not when he no longer has the excuse of constant migraines and burning fevers and uncontrollable vomiting. He’s back in the office the moment he’s able to be, signing papers and answering emails and going to meetings. There’s not a moment of rest, especially considering the fact that he’s also backed up on his college classes. He’s lucky that asplenia counts as a disability on his record, because he’s pretty sure he’d be failing half his classes if it didn’t. As it is, he has several extensions protecting him, but he still has to hunker down and finish everything before he ends up behind on his work for the rest of the damn semester. In between W.E. work, college classes, and the never-ending nightlife, he has barely any time to do anything else. His free time consists of showering and two hour naps every twenty hours. He spends his rare mealtimes scratching out problems on paper or typing one-handed emails as he stabs at a salad with the other.
It’s a week and a half of nearly nonstop working after he’s released that he’s finally close to being finished. The hardest thing about getting behind on these things is that they don’t stop. Even while he’s working on things from a week ago, he’s still getting new contracts to look over and assignments to write up. But finally, finally, after a month of illness and continuous labor that can’t possibly be good for his recovery, he’s almost done. He just has to write up a lab report for his godawful theoretical physics professor and then he can take the ten hour nap he’s been dreaming of all week, even if Dick argues that a ten hour nap is just called a sleep. He finishes waxing poetic about the goddamn lepton number conservation rule and is finally free! He damn near passes out from excitement and exhaustion on the spot, his head pressing against the cool marble of the counter.
The door to the apartment unlocking and opening causes him to lift his head up from where it rests against the table. “Tim?” Kon’s voice calls.
The sound of Kon’s TTK unlatching the various buckles and belts on his clunky platform boots makes Tim’s lips quirk up. “In here,” Tim answers, pillowing his head against his arms once more and allowing the fuzzy static to buzz through his head.
He feels Kon before anything else. Warmth drapes itself across his back, strong hands wrapping around his tensed muscles and spinning him around on the barstool to face Kon. The edge of the counter digs into his lower back, but Kon’s TTK aura spreads around his body, smoothing the blunt corner’s sharp point. “Hey, Supernova,” Tim murmurs into the kiss, arms clinging to Kon’s neck and shoulders to pull him in closer.
“Hey, babe,” Kon smiles in answer, pressing a kiss to the beauty mark under Tim’s eye.
“I’ve missed you,” Tim sighs, chasing Kon’s lips with his own.
Kon is merciful, leaning back in to give Tim what he wants. “Yeah? Did you think about me, baby?” Kon asks as he deepens the kiss.
Tim hums in response to the question as his lips part to make way for Kon’s tongue sliding against his own. Mirroring his lips, his legs part subconsciously, making space for Kon to crowd him in further. Kon’s hands squeeze his thighs firmly, encouraging him to lock his ankles around his back. He does so, and is rewarded by dozens of TTK hands bleeding into the knots of his muscles. The feeling makes him dizzy with pleasure, the dull, throbbing pain burning away to little more than a satisfying ache as he moans softly. “You’ve been working so hard,” Kon purrs into his lips, sounding very much like the cat who got the cream, “Lemme give you a massage.”
Tim’s mouth is too busy kissing Kon’s to give a proper answer, but Kon knows what he wants. His hands slide under Tim’s thighs and lift him up. Tim squeezes his legs around Kon’s waist and his arms around Kon’s shoulders. The kisses don’t stop until they’re in the bedroom, Tim’s back against the sheets as Kon methodically strips them both and flips him over. He lays there, belly down and cock already leaking precum, as Kon rifles through the bedside table’s drawers. Kon makes a triumphant noise as he finds the eucalyptus oil and pours it generously over his hands. He closes his eyes and buries his face in his arms and the soft pillows. He’s sleepy and soft and safe.
Kon straddles the backs of his thighs, hands coming down to splay across Tim’s stiff shoulders. He works his fingers in, digging them into the sore muscles and earning a groan of satisfaction. Tim sighs into the pillows as he feels Kon’s TTK sink into muscles. The instant bliss is heavenly. He’s so hard that he has to resist rutting into the sheets like a teenager. He can feel Kon’s own cock, thick and hot against his ass, rubbing with every movement of Kon’s hands against Tim’s body. He sighs again. His whole body is being turned to putty by the steady fingers working him and the firm press of his boyfriend’s cock against the plush curve of his ass, rubbing impatiently. “Kon,” he mumbles sleepily, somewhere between a plea for more and a moan.
“Just close your eyes, baby, let me take care of you,” Kon soothes, squeezing the pinched muscles as he rocks against Tim’s ass.
The steady hands steadily move down, working his stiff lower back with startling intensity. He’s not even surprised when Kon’s hands squeeze his ass, kneading and rolling the flesh like dough. His thumbs dig into the inner muscles of his thighs, and Tim shudders, moaning freely into the sheets. There’s a small puddle of drool under his mouth now, but he doesn’t care. He’s pretty sure they’re going to need to be washed soon anyway. He’s not surprised when Kon presses a slick finger inside of him, not when it feels so damn good, so damn right. “You’re so tense, Robbie, let me help you relax,” Kon’s smooth voice says, sounding, for all intents and purposes, like a goddamn pornstar.
It doesn’t take long at all for Kon’s finger to find that spot inside of him that makes his jaw go slack. He can’t tell if Kon has memorized its location or if he’s using his x-ray vision. He can’t tell which possibility is sexier. “Mm, ‘s good,” Tim sighs, toes curling as a second finger joins the first to press against the sensitive nerves.
Kon leans down to press a loving kiss to the nape of his neck, nibbling softly at his shoulders. All the while, his other hand wastes no time, digging knuckles into his traps and lats and leaving traces of TTK tendrils that force his whole body to relax. It’s a rush of a reminder that Kon is a god among men, that Tim’s life and the laws of physics are nothing more than smoke to him, and that he still chooses to love. No matter how strong Kon is, Tim knows he will always represent safety. It’s why he allows this with Kon, why he actively seeks it out, why he craves it and asks for it and why he’s currently squeezing his eyes shut, overcome with the sensations spreading throughout his body. Other than the two fingers pumping torturously slowly in and out of him, the whole thing feels almost chaste. It’s all so domestic, and somehow that makes Tim even harder. He shivers with pleasure when Kon adds a third finger, scissoring his fingers to stretch Tim out. “Lookin’ good, baby. You’re takin’ my fingers so well,” Kon drawls, his unfairly sexy country accent slipping out.
The heat in his voice is so tangible it makes Tim whimper. He wants Kon to fuck him so badly. He’s so tired of interruptions and last-minute plans and impromptu safe-sex-talks. He wants Kon. He wants Kon’s cock inside of him and Kon’s mouth on his lips and he wants to wrap his legs around Kon’s hips and dig his heels into Kon’s lower back as he scratches at Kon’s shoulder blades despite not being able to leave a mark. He wants Kon to sit on his face so he can taste that soft wetness and lick and suck until Kon comes on his face and cries from the sheer overstimulation. He wants to sink his own cock into Kon’s cunt to feel that velvet grip, wants to rock back and forth into him and feel Kon clench down and hear Kon moan his name and whine for more and beg him to fuck him harder while he comes into Kon’s pussy like he’s trying to fucking breed him. He wants to climb Kon’s muscled body like he’s a tree and ride him senseless, wants to bounce on his cock and come so hard he sees stars while Kon squeezes his thighs and thrusts upwards into him. He wants to feel Kon coming, wants to feel Kon’s cock filling him up, wants Kon’s cum to leak out of his sore hole, wants Kon to thrust back in and take him again and again and again until he’s stuffed to dripping with cum and aching from taking it without complaint. He wants so badly for Kon to fill him with his cum and shove his cock back inside to plug him up so that he can’t leak any of it out. He wants Kon to praise him and degrade him and treat him like he’s something precious and fuck him like he’s a whore and love him so much that it’s as undeniable as the cock he wishes was inside of him.
“Kon,” Tim whines as his boyfriend mercilessly massages his prostate.
“Fuck, say my name again, Tim,” Kon groans, sounding out of breath despite barely moving.
“Kon, Kon, Kon—”
“Baby, I really wanna fuck you. Can I? Please, you’re so hot,” Kon says, panting like he’s the one getting fingered open.
Tim nods into the sheets, clenching at the fabric so hard his knuckles go white. Kon flips him around and folds a pillow under his hips. Their eyes meet. “Is this okay?” Kon asks, “I wanna see you.”
“View’s not bad from my end, so I’m not complaining,” Tim replies, wrapping his arms around Kon’s neck to pull him down into a messy kiss.
“Condom?” Kon asks between kisses.
Tim shakes his head. “I’m clean. You?”
“Yeah. You sure? It’ll make cleanup harder.”
Tim nods. “I, um, I wanna feel it. Wanna feel you,” he says, suddenly bashful as his eyes dart away and his ears and cheeks turn red.
Kon’s pupils dilate so much that there’s barely any blue left. He licks his lips, perhaps subconsciously. “God, fuck, Tim, you’re so, so, fuck. I love you. You’re perfect.”
The shyness Tim had felt moments ago melts away. “I love you too. Now hurry up and fuck me already.”
Kon presses back into his mouth for a kiss as he slicks his cock with the oil from before and some lube he found while Tim was busy whining like a bitch into the sheets.
There’s a brief moment where the tip of Kon’s cock presses against his hole and he fears it won’t fit. He opens his eyes and sees Kon staring back at him, eyes full of love, and he relaxes. He’s okay. He’s safe.
The head pops in, and Tim finds himself almost surprised by the warmth. He’s not sure if full humans’ cocks are this warm when they’re inside someone else too, or if it’s a trait belonging to Kon’s less earthly heritage. The few times he’d bottomed with Bernard, they’d always used condoms, so the sensations were always dulled slightly. Tim hadn’t been particularly interested in the idea of having cum leaking out of him, nor had he been into the thought of the mess it would make of his bedsheets. With Kon, it’s different. He wants it all. He wants everything, the good and the bad. He’ll take it all with an open heart and an open mind and open arms.
Kon slides another inch in, and Tim shivers from the stretch, not that it’s particularly bad, especially after Kon’s extensive prep. He hasn’t bottomed in a long, long time, and he rarely gets enough time for himself to do anything in that vein other than jerk off. Even when he has the time to open himself up, he rarely chooses to use anything more than his own fingers. During those rare times, he usually gives up halfway through because of how many cramps he gets in his wrists. So, honestly, the cock currently pressing into him feels somewhat sudden. Still, it’s good. It’s good because it’s Kon, and he’s putting so much care into this because he cares about Tim.
Another inch in and Tim whimpers from the sudden sparks of pleasure bursting behind his eyelids. It’s good. It’s really good. It’s better than his fingers or toys and it’s somehow so perfect that he can’t help arching his back up into the sensation. “Kon,” he gasps, “Oh fuck, Kon—”
Kon groans in agreement, sucking a bruise into Tim’s neck, “I know, baby, I know. Me too. You’re so, fuck, so soft, an’ warm, baby, you’re so tight. So perfect for me, so perfect, so fucking hot.”
The praise makes him instinctively clench down on Kon’s cock, and they both moan at the sensation. Kon keeps sliding in slowly until he’s finally bottomed out. His hips are flush with Tim’s ass, cock buried to the hilt. Tim pants with exertion, feeling so fucking stuffed that he’s momentarily speechless, brain nothing more than mush. Caging him in from above with his arms, Kon bites his lip to stop himself from losing it. “How’d’you feel?” Kon asks, eyes focused unwaveringly on Tim’s expression.
Tim’s tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, like he can barely speak. “Good. So, ah, so good. ‘M so, so,” he whines, “so full.”
Kon’s eyes darken as his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “You like that? You like being full of my cock?”
The dirty talk makes Tim want to squirm, but he’s trapped in his place by Kon’s strong arms around him and his thick cock spearing him into the mattress. All he can do is squeeze Kon’s waist tighter with his thighs. The expression Kon has on his face makes him look hungry, like he’s going to lean down and eat Tim whole. Kon places a hand on his stomach. “Feel that?” Kon asks with a low voice as his hand presses down gently, “That’s me in there. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you never forget the shape of my cock inside you.”
The sound Tim lets out is so lewd that it makes him blush. “God,” Kon groans, “I’m gonna make you do that again, baby.”
“Oh,” Tim breathes, impossibly horny, “Please do.”
Kon pulls out slowly, letting his cock drag across Tim’s walls and tease his prostate. He waits until all that’s left is the head, and then he slams back inside. Tim’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, pleasure wracking through his body as Kon snaps his hips back and forth. The speed is just a little faster than what a human would be able to maintain, and the thought that Kon’s experiencing enough pleasure to tap into his powers makes Tim dizzy with satisfaction. He can feel the slap of Kon’s balls against his ass with every thrust, and the sound is so explicit that he finds himself unable to stop listening so intently to it. “Oh fuck, Tim, you’re so tight, so perfect, fuck, so warm, so fuckin’ hot,” Kon says, sounding like the words are spilling out of him.
Tim responds in kind with a litany of moans that he has no control over. “Kon, fuck, yes, ah, ah, so good, you’re so good, so good to me, yes, fuck, yes, Kon, you’re good, such a good boy, so good for me, ah, ah,” he slurs, the words coming out like water from a fountain.
Kon responds by sliding his hands up the backs of Tim’s thighs, bending him in half and hooking his calves over his shoulders. “You’re so fuckin’ flexible, Rob. I bet I can, ah, bet I can twist you up like a pretzel and, ah, hah, an’ fuck you so hard you come, ah, without me touchin’ your dick at all,” Kon says between thrusts and moans.
“Oh fuck, please, Kon, I want it,” Tim wails as the wet slapping sound intensifies, “I want it all!”
“I’ll give it to you, Tim, I promise, baby, I’ll fuck you so good, I’ll give it all to you so hard you never forget,” Kon rasps as he continues fucking into Tim, pounding his sensitive, soft walls and leaving Tim helpless to do anything but lay there and feel it.
“Fuck,” Tim moans as Kon uses a TTK hand to twist at one of his dusky pink nipples, “That’s so good. Do it, hah, do it again.”
Kon, eager to please, leans down and latches his lips around Tim’s other nipple, allowing the TTK hand to continue fondling and pinching at the first one. Tim bites down on his lip, amazed at how the pain turns to pleasure and brings him closer to the edge. “Kon, oh god, gimme more, I wa—” he cuts off with a long, drawn out moan of pure pleasure as Kon angles his hips to slam directly into his prostate with each powerful thrust.
Between their bodies, both of which are slick with sweat and oil and a bit of lube, Tim’s cock lays untouched, bouncing with each thrust and flushed pink. He’s achingly hard, to the point that pearls of precum leak out with each bounce. “Kon, Conner, fuck, plea-please, ‘m gonna come, ‘m close, Kon, Kon, Kon,” he cries.
Kon reaches a hand down towards his cock, moving to grasp it and finish him off, but Tim smacks the hand away before he can, panting and gasping even as he growls out, “You promised, ah, to fuck me, hhhah, so hard that I, ahh, that I come without being touched. Ah! You’re gonna, ah, make me come on your cock, ahh, or you’re not gonna come at all. Got it?”
Kon gapes at him for a moment before nodding blankly. A pleased smile crosses Tim’s face, and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he purrs, “Good boy,” into Kon’s ear.
Kon resumes fucking Tim with a frenzied desperation at the words, cock twitching inside of Tim at the praise. It’s all Tim can do to hold on for dear life, his knees squeezing against Kon’s head in a way that only a Kryptonian would be able to handle as his ass gets split open by the thick cock viciously pounding into it. Kon has angled his thrusts directly into Tim’s prostate, and the TTK aura returns to massage him from the outside so that he can feel every vein of the thick shaft inside of him. He can feel the head of Kon’s cock leaking into him, can see Kon’s barely held-together restraint in the way he bites his lower lip and leans down to press his lips against the pulse point in Tim’s neck. Another pair of TTK tendrils creep up and thumb his nipples, rolling and twisting and pinching in a way that’s just painful enough to be pleasurable. What throws him over the edge is the TTK hand that grabs his jaw without warning and shoves three fingers in his mouth in a humiliatingly sexy show of power. He feels like a toy on display, being played with everywhere, from his mouth to his nipples to his ass. He’s being used and fucked and held down and touched, nothing but a hole for Kon’s cock and the TTK fingers that he sucks on like he’s sucking a cock.
Hot ropes of cum spurt from his cock so hard they paint his heaving chest in white. Kon’s hips pump into him steadily, churning a steady rhythm as his fat cock fucks him through it in a way that makes Tim’s ass squeeze hard around it like he’s trying to milk it, and he desperately suckles the fingers pressed against his tongue as another wave rolls through him and his vision disappears into black spots. He feels Kon start to pull out and tries to speak to tell him to stop, but his mouth is still occupied with the TTK fingers, so all that comes out is a needy whine that almost sounds like a goddamn mewl. Kon blinks at him, eyes foggy with lust, and the TTK hand in his mouth pulls out, smearing his own spit against his lips. “Conner Kent,” Tim rasps, “don’t you dare pull out right now. You promised to come inside me.”
Kon whines and begins to desperately rut into his sore hole. The sensation is mildly overstimulating, too soon after Tim’s orgasm to be pleasurable for him, but it’s also Kon, and Tim has a high pain tolerance. Kon, his perfect, beautiful, kind, strong, smart boyfriend, leans down to lick his cum off his abs and pecs, and he whines desperate things as he does. “Tim, Tim, you’re so fuckin’ good, you taste so good, so perfect, your face when you, ah, when you came, it was so, ah, so beautiful, I wanted to take a picture, wanted to show you off, ah! Fuck, can’t believe you came on my cock like that, that’s so fuckin’ hot, you’re such a perfect boyfriend, I love you, baby, I love you so much, you feel so fuckin’ good, I’m gonna, ah, gonna fill you up, just like you want, gonna fuckin’ stuff you, you’re gonna be full of it, full of my cum, that’s so fuckin’ hot, can’t believe how hot you are, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he slurs, “Can I come? Please, Tim, can I come in you, baby?”
Tim grabs a handful of black curls and forces Kon’s head up to make eye contact with him. “Yeah, you can come. Be a good boy and fill me up,” he murmurs.
Just like that, Kon’s hips come to a stuttering halt, his cock burying itself inside of Tim as deep as it can go, and he comes with a broken cry. Tim can feel the hot load of cum filling him up, pumping into him, claiming him. Kon’s hips work in small, rolling motions, shooting cum deep inside of his hole.
It’s his first time seeing Kon come, and he focuses his gaze on the sight of his carved, godlike face. He’s beautiful. His lips are bitten red, parted ever so slightly, his eyes are half-lidded, brows furrowed, and his skin has a healthy, rosy glow to it dusted over his natural sun-kissed bronze. He’s a god among men, certainly, but he’s more than that to Tim. He’s everything. He’s the world in a person. He’s the one whose laughter Tim craves, the one whose smile brightens a memory, the one whose warmth means safety. He’s home personified and he’s life itself and he’s the sun contained in a body. He’s everything.
“I love you,” Tim says to Kon, stroking a gentle thumb under his eye.
Kon makes a quiet sound, pathetic and perfect, almost like a whine. “You’re so…” he trails off, closing his eyes and resting his face in the crook of Tim’s neck.
“That was beautiful, Kon,” Tim says, the praise falling off his tongue easier than honey, “You were beautiful for me.”
Kon whines another defeated moan, nuzzling his nose in. “Was I good?” he asks, “Did you feel good?”
Tim snorts in amusement. “I dunno, babe. It’s not like I came ‘cause you shoved invisible fingers in my mouth, or anything,” he answers sarcastically.
Kon lifts his head up and pouts at him, his puppy-dog eyes wide and pathetic. Tim presses a kiss to his full lips. “Yes, Kon, I felt good. Really good, actually. That was the best orgasm of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”
Kon grins that stupidly attractive rockstar smile of his, cocky and sexy and so perfect Tim fears he’ll lose it again. “Careful, babe,” Kon teases, “don’t want all that praise goin’ to my head.”
Tim raises an eyebrow dryly, “Which head?”
Kon rolls his hips as an answer and Tim gasps at the sudden sensation of a hot load of cum literally sloshing around inside of him. He’s so full. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he whispers, lust and surprise mixing together.
Kon’s eyes sparkle. “Hold still,” he says, and then he closes his eyes, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrates.
It takes Tim longer than he’d like to admit to figure out what Kon is doing. Kon’s cock slides out, and Tim knows that his cum should follow, but it doesn’t. He instinctively clenches down around what should be nothing, but he instead feels—
Oh, that’s hot. Kon has made a TTK plug to keep his cum inside of Tim. That’s really hot. He shivers. “There,” Kon says, clearly satisfied with himself as he settles down on his side and faces Tim, “Now you can sleep without worrying ‘bout it leaking onto the sheets.”
Tim pulls his boyfriend into a sweet kiss, hooking a thigh over Kon’s hip just to be closer. “I love you,” he murmurs into Kon’s mouth.
“I love you too. Now close your eyes and go to sleep before you pass out,” Kon says back, using a TTK hand to guide Tim’s head down to rest on his bicep.
Just before Tim closes his eyes, he picks his phone up and turns it on silent mode.
They sleep in blissful peace for nine straight hours.