Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Move-In Day

Tim’s new apartment was nice. Conner’s League accommodations weren’t even on this level. He assumed this place was funded by the ever-generous Wayne Enterprises, likely pitched as a safe house in another part of Gotham. Conner wondered what sort of tech Tim already had buried here, but today wasn’t for capes. Today was for moving.

Most of the furniture was already inside. All brand new. Tim said he still had a room at the manor like his siblings, so he didn’t feel the need to take anything too heavy with him. Just boxes full of clothing, books, and whatever personal computers he built late at night rather than sleeping.

Ever the show off, Conner carried a tall stack of heavy boxes into his boyfriend’s place. His muscles bulged under a black tee as he gently sat them down. “Hey, Tim? Where do you want these?” he called.

Tim was propped against the kitchen island, sipping a coffee, watching. He took a moment to clear his throat. “The top two are bedroom, bottom three office.”

“You have an office?”

Tim grinned. “Red Robin still needs a cave, Superboy.”

Conner just laughed it off. “Fine, keep your secrets,” he said as he took the top boxes around the corner. Tim’s new bedroom was huge. Four post bed against the back wall, a large and long wooden dresser against the next. It looked like there was a walk-in closet the size of a dorm room through a door in the bathroom. And that shower! There was plenty of space for a half-Kryptonian and a detective.

Conner heard a phone ring. He tried hard not to eavesdrop on Tim’s conversations, but his hearing didn’t always give him a choice.

“Getting settled?” Cass.

“Yeah, Conner has been a big help.”

“I’ll bet.” Conner cracked a smile.

“Shut up!”

“Oh, Superboy, can you help me move these boxes?” she mocked. “They’re so heavy, and I could never just hire movers to do all the work.”

Tim huffed. “For your information, Bruce did hire movers.”

“Bruce had your furniture delivered and assembled. You can’t fool me.”

There was another voice in the background. It sounded like Dick.

“Ask if he’s decoded that message for Oracle.”

Conner’s smile fell. He should have known better than to assume Tim was all his for the evening. The investigations never ended with the Waynes. Not that Conner’s family was perfect. Far from it. One of his fathers still hated the thought of claiming him. The other was always trying to get his claws back in his perfect clone.

“Not yet, but once I get my computers all set up, I should be able to knock it out. I’ll call back when we have our answers.”

Conner emerged from the bedroom once he was sure the call had ended, unable to hide the pout on his lips. He started going through the fridge for a bottle of water, anything to use as an excuse to hide his feelings. Tim noticed the change in demeanor right away.

“Kon, what’s wrong?”

Conner just grumbled and feigned ignorance. Pretending not to hear his boyfriend was bold considering how he ended up so grumpy.

“Kon,” he repeated, his tone firm, almost a warning. “I know you can hear me. I suspect that’s what you’re upset about.”

Conner slapped the fridge closed, bottle finally in hand. “You would know. You’re the genius.”

“Hey!” Tim protested. He moved closer to his boyfriend, blocking his path. Conner could easily move him, but he wouldn’t. “I don’t know what this tone is about. You shouldn’t have been listening in. Besides, this is my job.”

“I can’t help it, okay? I didn’t pick to have superhearing.”

“No, but you picked to have a Robin.”

Kon froze. “I know… I know. I’m sorry.” He lowered his head.

Tim’s gaze softened. “Conner, listen. I don’t love the eavesdropping, but I do love you. I need to make more time for you- us. My whole life isn’t Red Robin, and I need to do a better job of showing that. I’m sorry.”

Conner leaned his head down on Tim’s shoulder. “Thank you. I know this code is important. I don’t want anyone to get hurt just because I want your attention. So why don’t you go get it done, and then maybe we can order in? Watch a movie?”

Tim kissed his lips, soft and gentle. Like Conner was made of glass and he needed to be held delicately. When he pulled away, he left his hand on Kon’s cheek. “You can join me if you want. Just be close until I’m done, and then it’s whatever you want.”

Conner furrowed his brow. “I didn’t think I was allowed honestly,” he spoke hesitantly. “Batman made it pretty clear. No powers in the Batcave.”

“Tell that to Dick and Kori,” Time scoffed. “Besides, this isn’t the Batcave. It’s my office. And if I want you in there, then I’ll take you in there.” Conner blushed and tried to turn away, but Tim kept him still. “C’mon, I still need a big, strong man to carry the last of my hardware.”

“Superboy is at your service,” he teased with a little bow. Conner followed his boyfriend with the final boxes. Tim approached the fake fireplace built into the wall below a mounted flat screen and pressed his thumb into the corner. The wall shifted and turned, opening up to an elevator. WayneTech.

They were taken down below the garage level into a private storeroom. Motorcycles, batarangs, smoke bombs… any gear Tim might need for a mission. Tim’s actual office was more of a lab with an adjoining server room. Tim got right to work on his laptop at one of his many stations. Conner sat the boxes down and wandered around for a place to sit.

Tim turned back to him after a moment and just patted his leg. Conner’s eyes tracked the movement, slowly moving to stand next to him.

“Come sit.”

It was like a switch flicked in Conner’s brain. He knelt down and let his head be guided to Tim’s lap. Calloused finger ran through his fluffy hair, scratching lightly at the shaved sides. Conner’s eyes fluttered shut. He just rested there on his boyfriend, getting pet like a dog. He breathed deeply. Tim practically had him in a meditative state within seconds. He never even noticed his legs going numb from this position. All his mind could focus on was the soft touches and quiet murmurs about some riddle.

Conner wasn’t sure if he actually fell asleep, but it took Tim a few tries to get the attention of one relaxed, drooling boy. “Conner,” Tim cooed. Conner blinked a few times before looking up at his boyfriend. “Hi, there. You have a good rest?”

Kon nodded and slowly wiped his mouth. He wanted to apologize for the slobber, but he knew Tim didn’t mind. In fact, I’m sorry were the last words Tim wanted to hear come out of Conner’s mouth. It was unnecessary. It wasn’t Conner’s fault a hand on his head could knock him out.

Tim stood, offering Conner a hand up. He took it, or tried at least; he only got the pressure of his body off his calves. Tim wet his lips. “You can take your time, but should know, you look good on your knees.”

Conner practically choked, any comeback he could have used gone in his still foggy state. His bright blue eyes stared up at Tim and slowly raked down his torso. Tim wore comfy clothes today. They weren’t flattering, but Kon had long memorized every muscle underneath. He could find and kiss Tim’s scars blindfolded if asked. Conner wouldn’t even need Clark’s x-ray vision, not that he inherited the power.

“Maybe I should keep you down there more often.”

“Maybe you should.” Conners mouth moved faster than his brain could process. He started to stand up, but Tim put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Tim?”

The Boy Wonder inched closer until his crotch was just a hair from Conner’s mouth. His breath fanned across the sweats. Conner could smell just how aroused Tim was. Super senses be damned, he was an expert here already.

“Take it out,” Kon finally said after a gulp.

Tim didn’t even hesitate. He pulled his sweatpants and boxers down enough to expose his cock. A throbbing, hard, short member made urgent by years of testosterone treatments. Conner wasted no time taking him into his mouth. A little moan rippled from Tim’s throat. Conner bobbed his head slowly, good at putting on a show. He flicked his tongue along the bottom. After a few moments, Tim decided this speed wasn’t good enough, and he knew Kon could take more. Deeper. Faster.

Tim moved his hips, a hand tangling in his boyfriend’s hair and giving gentle tugs of encouragement. Conner craned his neck to take as much as possible, nose deep in Tim’s bush. He didn’t need to breathe; he needed more. He needed to taste Tim, feel whatever missed his mouth coat his chin.

“Fuck, Conner,” Tim groaned. “You are so fucking good with your mouth.”

The praise made his eyes widen. It sent a jolt down his spine and straight to his own cock. Tim took notice and shoved his leg forward. With Tim’s shin pressing into his hard dick, Conner actually choked. He pulled back and took a sharp inhale. His lungs burned with the sudden reintroduction of oxygen. But Tim’s torturous grinding never ceased.

Conner whimpered as he found himself humping Tim’s leg. The stress of his jeans was nearly unbearable, but he had a job to do. His eyes practically begged for Tim’s cock as he opened his mouth again.

Tim rewarded his desperation, spreading his lips and giving Conner as much access as he could. Superboy moved with enough speed to slam Tim into the desk. His palms completely covered Tim’s ass, groping and massaging, pulling him in. Kryptonian muscles bulged from exertion. His need for Tim’s orgasm was primal, like a man who went days without food or water.

The speed of that boy’s tongue had Tim reeling. His legs trembled; his grip on Conner’s head was all he had to keep him from collapsing. The second Kon dipped his tongue inside, it was over. No holding back any longer.

Tim’s hips shook as he finished by fucking into Conner’s mouth. He ground his cock against the tongue inside him and released a scream filled with grunts and curses. He knew Conner wouldn’t stop until ordered. He’d lick his boyfriend all night if he could, but Tim couldn’t handle it.

After riding out his orgasm by riding Conner’s face, Tim tapped the top of his boyfriend’s head. The taps came urgently with a breathless, “Conner- stop. Stop, stop, stop.”

Superboy obeyed the command, leaning back and sitting on his heels. He’d completely forgotten about his own needy cock trapped behind denim. Tim took his time to catch his breath, the laces of his shoes still pressed against his boy’s crotch. Conner chanced a few pitiful grinds.

Tim didn’t even look at him right away. “Computer, place our usual order to Mama Macaroni for delivery.” What a use for a Batcomputer.

“Italian?” Conner teased.

“Fuck off, I’ve been craving garlic knots.”  He took another breath. “Now, Conner,” he spoke slowly, “I expect you naked in my bed in five minutes.” Conner gulped. “Don’t keep me waiting, Superboy, I gave you an order.”

Conner launch to his feet, leaving a small crack in the floor. He raced off to Tim’s bedroom and stripped so fast his own shirt tore. Tim dropped his head back.

“Computer,” he spoke again. “Order more of those special condoms.”

“Mister Drake, a delivery for this product arrived two days ago.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

The Birthday Boy

Tim’s twenty-first birthday was technically two weeks ago. He and Steph were away on recon when they should have celebrated, something about Penguin smuggling weapons into Gotham. On the bright side, it gave Conner plenty of time to plan a surprise party. He tried to remember his favorite drinks and games from his twenty-first last year, but soon came to the conclusion a real bartender and a real bar might be wiser. Nothing stuffy though, nowhere Bruce would hold a gala.

Speaking of Bruce, he would not be attending. He had taken Damien, Steph, and Cass after a League of Shadows lead. The girls wanted to come at least, and Damien was too young to care about drinking. But Bruce. He was a mentor and a father, and he had something better to do. Conner almost felt rejected when he learned this. He didn’t think he deserved to, but how could he not. Bruce never seemed to like him, be it fatherly protection or a distrust of his genetics. It hurt either way.

Conner shook off his anxious thought, choosing instead to focus on party prep. The bar was rented out for the evening, so there wouldn’t be anyone inside to bother him yet. All too soon it would be filled with incognito heroes. Some hero-adjacent.

The bar was dimly lit with soft, warm tones, enough light to get by but no so much as to kill the mood. Speakers hung high in various corners, ready to pump out whatever music he picked out last week. He made a mental note to keep the sound low for the handful of powered beings it might distress, himself included.

The bar was built from dark brown wood, lined with plush stools covered in red leather. Matching booths and tables were scattered across the rest of the room. The bar staff busied themselves, cleaning and prepping stations. All in tight black clothing short enough to show a handful of various tattoos. Conner examined each one, scanning for any sign of danger. Any possible gang affiliation or assassin branding.

He never found any tattoo reason for alarm, however one of the bartenders caught his stares and rose an eyebrow. Conner dropped his gaze with a mumbled apology, making up some excuse of looking for a good tattoo artist and feigning admiration. He was quickly waved off and allowed to start hanging banners and streamers.

Dick and Kori arrived about ten minutes early with Tim’s cake. Kori handed it off to some staff member to store in the fridge; Tim liked cold frosting. Most of the supers filtered in a few at a time. Wally really cut it close though. For a speedster, he had a habit of showing up late, and Conner could not risk his timing getting screwed up. Jason would be here soon with the birthday boy in tow. It was impressive any of the Batkids could keep a secret from Tim, but somehow they pulled it off.

Jason’s motorcycle had a unique rumble as it came to a stop on the street. Conner’s ears perked up when he heard Tim’s voice outside.

“Jay, I’d really rather just go home and hang out with Conner.” The statement made his heart flutter.

“Come on, one drink. A real drink, one Bruce should have let you get weeks ago,” Jason said.

“We had a mission,” he tried to defend.

Jason tisked. “Don’t try that shit with me. It was intel that didn’t even pay off right away. He could have waited, and you know that.” There was real bitterness in his tone. Jason and Bruce haven’t been on good terms in years. He was a good cover, but he wasn’t a liar. Who would’ve thought the kid who stole the wheels off the Batmobile would grow up to be the most honest man any of them had ever met.

“Quiet! He’s coming! Everybody hide!” Conner shouted, fighting to keep his voice low enough to not alert Tim. Bart killed the lights as the crowd ducked down behind tables and pillars. The front door turned slowly and pushed in with hesitation.

“Jason, please tell me you didn’t drag me to another break in-”

“Surprise!”

Gleeful shouts echoed across the bar as the lights came on. Tim’s whole body tensed and relaxed at once. Relief about this not being a mission and tension from actually getting a party like this. Conner knew the reaction. Tim wasn’t sure he deserved this.

Tim made his way through hugs and claps on the back until he could wrap his arms around Conner. “You planned this?” he asked with a cute little smile.

Conner looked all too proud of himself. “It wasn’t easy to hide from you,” he admitted. Keeping secrets from Tim Drake was a challenge on several levels. A master detective and the hottest man alive to Kon. “I wanted to give you a good birthday. You made my twenty-first special.”

Tim blushed. He had begged Kori for Tamaranean ale that would actually get Conner drunk. And while drunk, he kissed Tim for the first time. Conner had been flirty before, sure, but Tim never knew he actually had feelings for him back then. They finally started dating a few weeks after the party.

“Planning to make mine special later?” Tim asked. That adorable smile turned wicked.

“I guess that depends on how much you drink?” The statement left Kon’s mouth like a question. He didn’t want to overstep, but his drunken behavior still embarrassed him.

Tim cupped his cheeks and squished them in a little. “Listen very carefully. I always want you. In every and any state. If I’m drunk and I ask you to fuck me, I mean it. I’m consenting, then and now.”

Conner stuttered. “Uh, okay, yeah.. if, um, if you’re sure.”

“I am. More than sure. Explicitly.” He pecked his lips. “Besides, this is Gotham. Not the first time I’ve had alcohol. I’ll be fine, baby.”

Conner relaxed in his hands, turning his head to kiss a palm. “It’s your day, you can have anything you want.”

Tim ruffled his hair and murmured a soft thank you. He took Conner’s hand to lead him to the bar. Tim ordered them shots, not caring how much effort it would take for Kon to feel it. Selina met them halfway through the lineup with a small velvet box in hand. She gave Tim a big hug and insisted he open his gift immediately. Inside, resting on black silk was an expensive watch, shiny and silver, already ticking silently.

“Bruce is sorry he couldn’t make it,” she said. “But he wanted to make sure you got this. Happy birthday, honey.”

Tim gave his thanks, trying to brush off the pain of an absent father figure. She helped him fasten the watch onto his wrist. It was perfectly sized. Conner assumed Bruce kept records of everyone’s measurements, usually for gear or suits, but he supposed this was a sweet application. Selina gave him a brief, parental kiss on the cheek before she had to excuse herself.

“You okay?” Conner asked. Tim just shrugged. “I’m sorry he isn’t here. Steph and Cas said he’s dragging them and Damien on some, uh,” he paused to remind himself of his surroundings. “Some in-law trip.” Damien’s grandfather led the League of Shadows and provided the easiest cover story he could muster in civilian company.

“I know. He wanted to have a family dinner when they all got back, but I told him not to bother. Something always comes up.” This was news to Kon. “I don’t mean to focus on Bruce. You planned a great party.” The praise came with another kiss. “You didn’t have to do all this for me. I’d be happy with beer pong at the apartment with a few friends.”

“Yeah, cause I’m gonna play beer pong with a bunch of sharpshooters and ninjas.”

“We aren’t ninjas.”

“I’m pretty sure most of you are ninjas.”

“We aren’t!” Tim laughed. Conner could not be convinced otherwise; the Waynes were ninjas. “But we are competitive, I’ll give you that. Speaking of, did you invite-”

“Aunt Harley is here!” came a sing-song screech. Harley jumped onto Tim’s back with a bear hug. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid with pink and blue flowers sprinkled throughout. She wore a dark red leather jacket over something sleeveless and ripped jeans. The jacket looked a bit big, and a bit stolen.

Her wife, and original jacket owner, wasn’t far behind. Ivy had a complicated relationship with some of the heroes. Her crimes were usually justified, and she rarely attempted any real harm. If Tim was going after her, he normally would let her off easy. He knew Harley would rush to her aid in Arkham, and fucking up her vigilante status was not worth it. Besides, no matter her claims, Ivy did not hate all humans. Just the ones poisoning the environment.

“Happy birthday, kiddo!” Harley squealed.

Ivy gently pulled her off the boy and offered a gentle pat on the back. “Happy birthday, Tim.” She focused in on being close to her wife and the boys rather than acknowledge any of the cautious and angry looks shot her way.

The bar staff was clearly on edge with the appearance of Poison Ivy, but Conner intervened. The judgement didn’t sit right with him. “Can we get some more shots for the Aunties?” His gaze hardened at any hesitation and sure enough, a tray of shots was laid on the counter.

Ivy was whispering something in Tim’s ear and slipping him a tin box. “It was Harley’s idea, but it’s my work. All natural. It’s pretty strong though, so be careful. Don’t share it with anyone who can’t handle their weed.”

Conner’s curiosity nearly got the best of him. He bit his tongue, choosing instead to hold his questions until he got Tim alone. Harley was already slamming shots. If Kon didn’t know better, he’d think those glasses were full of water. She didn’t even flinch. It may have taken some work to get Conner drunk, but he still had to taste the booze on the way down. He would have been happier with a sweet colorful drink over something so sharp, but he accepted anything put in his hands. And Tim chose shots.

“I think I have someone in mind,” Tim murmured back. A devious tone. Conner took a shot to pretend he didn’t hear what sounded like a hot threat.

Tim soon abandoned Harley and Ivy to mingle with some of his teammates. Conner took this opportunity to retreat to the bathroom. It was quiet there, and the lights stayed a consistent level of intensity with only two warm lamps in the small space. The bar only had three single room bathrooms, meaning Kon wouldn’t feel bad hogging one. He always got overstimulated at parties. He wasn’t alone; Jason took smoke breaks for the same reason. But Conner planned this party. He thought it would be different. Even with every precaution for he and the other powered guests, he needed a breather.

Conner splashed cold water over his face and took slow, deep breaths, head low in the sink. He closed his eyes to get a rest from lit spaces. The music was still faintly audible through the walls. It mixed and blended with dozens of voices. Too many conversations at once.

Kon turned on the facet and just stared at the running water. He tried to focus in on this sound alone. Tune out everything behind the door. And breathe. He could do this. He had to. Tonight was supposed to be about Tim.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Conner?” Tim called softly. “You in there?”

Conner reached blindly for the doorhandle and flicked the lock open. He heard the door open and relock, and he soon felt Tim’s hand on his back.

“What’s going on?” he murmured.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… so loud,” Kon whined. “I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere quiet.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know events are hard for you. You’re doing great. There is nothing wrong with a break.” Every word came with soft movements along his spine. “Just focus on me, my voice. No one else’s. Do you think you can do that for me?” Conner gave a shaky nod. “Good job, good boy.”

Conner felt his shoulders drop and relax. Tim kept giving him encouraging words and praise, all in a hushed tone. Without Conner standing there hunched over, someone might think Tim was luring a wounded animal out of hiding. His breathing evened out, and eventually he was able to open his eyes. Tim smiled warmly, placing a kiss on his temple.

“There you are,” he murmured. “I’ve got you; everything is okay.”

“You’re missing your party,” Conner mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Enough with the party. You’re all I’ve wanted the whole time.” Tim said. “Do you want to know why I asked you to fuck me drunk?” Conner grew flustered, and he shook his head softly. “Because all I want for my birthday is to turn my brain off and put your cock inside me.”

Conner’s eyes widened. “Oh! I, uh… I didn’t… I can do that,” he managed out. “I never thought of it that way.”

Tim laced his fingers through Conner’s hair. “That’s alright, big boy. You don’t need to think.”

“Maybe you should keep me from thinking sometime then.” Kon was proud of himself for finally having a comeback.

“Yeah? You wanna get that drunk and still have sex?”

“Or high, either works.”

Tim leaned forward to kiss him, biting down on his lip and drawing out a whimper. “Stop listening to my private conversations, Superboy,” he whispered. “One day you’ll find yourself in trouble for that.”

“Prove it.”

The playful tone was gone, replaced with a searing kiss. Tim backed him up against another wall. Conner grasped the sink for stability, clearly overestimating the strength of cheap ceramic. That or underestimating his own strength, because he snapped off the corner as easily as breaking a pencil in half. Thankfully Tim had a better use for his hands. He pulled Conner’s arms around himself, letting them wander wherever they pleased. Kon gripped his ass in one hand, the other dipping under Tim’s shirt to hold him close by his back.

Tim moved his lips to Conner’s throat while pushing his face up and away. He didn’t bite, not right away, but he wanted full access once he was ready. He just needed to wait for a whine and shaky hands, and he wouldn’t wait long. Conner gasped at a sudden sharp pain. Tim’s tongue flicked across the mark to soothe his skin, only to repeat the process lower. The bruises wouldn’t last, much to Conner’s disappoint. He always healed too fast. However none of this would stop Tim from trying his best to paint Conner’s neck in aggressive little spots.

Conner held him desperately. He needed Tim closer, and he didn’t care if it wasn’t possible. Tim pressed a palm against Conner’s chest to keep him firmly against the cool tile wall. The other hand fumbled with Superboy’s belt. The metal and leather flopped against Conner’s thighs. Conner removed his hands to splay open his jeans, just barely careful enough not to tear his pants in half. Tim took the lack of contact as his best chance to lose his own pants.

Tim pulled Conner’s cock out of his boxers the second his drenched underwear hit the ground. He tossed a condom at Kon’s chest before slamming their lips together again. Conner slid the specialized protection on as fast as he could. Tim pushed on his shoulders for an extra boost and jumped. He wrapped his legs around Conner’s waist, letting Kon take lead and ease his cock inside. Tim hissed, not fully prepared, but not willing to wait.

Kon groaned. “Fuck, Tim,” he growled. “You’re so fucking tight,” he mewled.

Tim’s hips shook in a strong grasp as he released lewd noises into Kon’s shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut there. The angle didn’t allow him to ease down onto Conner’s cock, but it filled him up as deeply as when he rode him. He was still impatient, but he needed a moment to adjust to the size. Lube was always their friend in ideal circumstances.

Conner really tried to listen to Tim’s instructions. Only Tim, only his voice. And yet he still heard the symphony from the bar singing in Tim’s honor. A sea of voices belting out Happy Birthday.

“T-Tim,” Conner tried to stop the man’s movement. “The cake, the party-”

Tim cupped his cheeks, looking deeply into those bright eyes. “I said fuck the party.”

“But they’ll know you’re missing.”

Tim wrapped his fingers around Conner’s throat, the other hand moving to his hair. “I don’t care.”

Conner whined softly as his legs trembled. “What if we get caught?” he eventually mustered out.

“Kon.” Tim’s voice was harsh, cold. Intense. His crime fighting voice, always ready to bark orders. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me like a good boy.”

Conner’s expression slowly hardened. He spun on his heel and slammed Tim’s back into the wall. A hand cupped his ass to hold him up as Conner pounded into him. Tim had to bite a hand to hold back a scream. Kon looked down, watching his cock slid in and out of Tim’s hole. He grunted like an animal. Sweat beaded along his forehead. It wasn’t often he got to utilize his inhuman strength on Tim. He never wanted to hurt his boyfriend, but clearly caution had long gone into the wind along with any logic or fear that remained in Conner’s head.

“Fuck! Conner!” Tim shouted. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he never said stop. Conner rolled his hips, pulling a strangled moan from the birthday boy. “There! Fuck, Conner, right there!”

Kon knew how to follow directions, and he loved when an order left Tim’s mouth. His hands gripped Tim’s hips hard enough to bruise as his thrusts grew relentless. Tim squeezed his cock, the pressure matching the tight hold on Conner’s fluffy hair. Tim pulled hard when he finally came. Wetness ruined Conner’s boxers, and part of him wished he’d taken them off when Tim dropped his pants. The hungrier part of him was proud to wear Red Robin’s cum. His hips stuttered, and his back tensed.

He barely registered Tim’s voice in the height of his orgasm. “That won’t be the last condom you fill tonight.”

Conner let out a guttural cry, only pulling out for fear of busting the condom. He panted hard, muttering little swears. He slowly dropped down to his knees and fought his fleeting strength to ensure Tim didn’t fall.

“Easy, Superboy,” he whispered.

“Fuck… Tim…” Kon breathed.

Tim ran his fingers through Conner’s hair, kinder this time. Gentle. Soft.

The noise of the party was the furthest thing from Kon’s mind in his current state. All he could hear was their shared ragged breathing. Tim stayed on his lap, still pinned to the wall by a hunched over, exhausted boy. Tim slipped the condom off and tossed it in the trash, but he made no other moves. Conner could take all the time he needed to rest and recover here on the floor.

After awhile, Kon met Tim’s eyes. He looked so fucked out, so sweet. Tim smiled down at him.

“How does cake sound?”