Summary: It’s been three weeks.
Notes: Can we just imagine things have gone on in the pre-reboot universe? Also, for the sake of argument, they’re both over 18.
Tim feels wildly irresponsible when he lets Kon fly him away from Gotham and into his room at the Kent farm for the night. He lets Kon push the cowl back and kiss him on the temple before moving down and licking his lips. The kiss is messy and needy, all tongues and teeth and bitten lips. Tim groans into Kon’s mouth, pulling him closer by the back of the neck. The truth is, he’s been too caught up in Gotham for the past three weeks; just two days ago, he cancelled his engagement to Tam, and a week before that, was trying to organize a charity ball to benefit one of the many charities Wayne Enterprises has ties to. What with Batman’s “no-metas” rule, he hasn’t seen Kon at all. Maybe he just misses his boyfriend more than he wants to stick around for a patrol night when there are at least five other people on the city right now.
In any case, he feels like a starving man as he pulls at Kon’s shirt and belt. He can feel Kon’s TTK racing up and down his sides, disabling the defense system of the uniform and then tugging at the seams in an attempt to get Tim naked as fast as possible. Tim finds himself bare on the bed in only his jockstrap and watching while Kon strips down in front of him.
“I fucking missed you.” Kon’s mouth his wet on his neck and Tim has to try not to be loud because Ma Kent is sleeping in what has to be two rooms over. It’s hard, though—Kon knows where to touch, is touching all over his skin, and when it’s Kon’s chest against Tim’s, it feels like something he’s been missing for years. His legs come up to wrap around Kon’s waist, ankles locking and hips lurching up for more contact. He bites his lip when Kon grinds back down before dragging Kon back into a hard kiss.
“Kon,” and it’s a whine and he knows it but he doesn’t care because he’s hard and it’s been three fucking weeks since they’ve even seen each other and he wants Kon more than anything right now. He makes a grab for Kon’s hand and pulls it down, in between his thighs, just grazing his balls through the fabric of his jockstrap and pushing Kon’s clumsy fingers towards his taint. “Kon, Kon, please—” he swallows and bangs his head against the pillow when Kon grins and gently fingers his hole.
“That what you want?”
“Fuck, yes, please, Kon—” He whines again, rocks into Kon’s hand. “Kon, if you fucking tease me—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He kisses the top of Tim’s cheek before using his TTK to pull a half empty bottle of lubricant from the top drawer of his dresser. “You’ll kill me.” It’s cold on his fingers when he starts to ease Tim open, but with enough kissing and stroking, he’s able to get one in, two…Tim tries to move on Kon’s fingers, tries to do anything to get more friction until Kon decides to see if he can take it yet.
Tim spreads his legs wider and watches Kon push, letting out tiny squeaks and pants with each further cant. “Kon, just—”
“I’m gonna hurt you if we don’t take it slow—”
“I want it to hurt!” It’s almost too loud, almost enough that it might have waken up Ma Kent, but Tim doesn’t care. “Please, Kon, just do it, please—” And when Kon’s all the way in, Tim lets out a deep breath. He reaches up and grabs Kon’s shoulders and wraps his legs back around Kon’s waist so that he can pull Kon deeper in.
He closes his eyes and lets his head tilt back as Kon thrusts again, urging him on with tiny “yes”s and there’s the TTK again on his cock, on his nipples, in his mouth and it’s too much. It’s too much and he wants more, wants to break another bed like they did four weeks ago, wants to wake up an entire city like they did five weeks ago, wants to keep going and going and going, but he’s not going to last. He can’t. His fingers dig into Kon’s back, drawing him down yet again so that he can pant out “I love you,” before letting his entire body seize up and releasing.
Kon doesn’t stop at that moment, but he has a dazed expression on his face up until he himself finishes. He slides out, rolls so that he’s next to Tim, and drops an arm over the other boy’s chest. “So.”
“Yeah?” Tim’s toes feel numb. It’s incredible.
Kon leans over him and kisses him—long, drawn out, sweet. “That bad without me?” he laughs, and Tim smiles a little, but it’s true. He hates it when Kon’s not around. He feels like the biggest dweeb on the planet, but when he doesn’t get to see Kon, he doesn’t want to deal with other people. “Do you want me to clean you up? We can’t run the shower, but…”
Tim sighs. “We probably should…” he yawns and then looks surprised about it. Kon laughs and gets up. Tim watches him tie off the condom and throw it in his trash can before dragging a dirty pair of pajama pants on and leaving the room. About a minute later, he comes back with a damp towel. When he cleans Tim off, his hands are gentle and soft over otherwise raw skin, and Tim has to pull him into another kiss that he doesn’t fight against.
“I have a t-shirt you can borrow to sleep in,” Kon says softly. Tim smiles.
“I think I’m good like this.”
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