by Weirdness Magnet

Rating: 18 and up
Paring: Tim/Kon
Summary: Tim has no good explanation for his behavior.
Author's Notes: Crossdressing. Private schoolgirl outfit. Yep.
Title: Title from "Dolphin" by Poe, suggested by Te.
Acknowledgements: Te for the beta. To M.Z. for helping me get the hang of Tuesdays.

**

"The skirt I get. But you have to explain the knee socks to me."

"I'm undercover," Tim mumbles.

"I guessed that." Kon rolls his eyes. "But... Catholic schoolgirl?"

"Just private school."

"Oh, well. That's *completely* different." Kon isn't -- quite -- laughing at him. "I still want to know where you hide the shuriken in that thing."

And okay, it was completely Tim's idea to go out in disguise tonight. There *had* been attacks on private school girls in this area and Batman hadn't given him a funny look when he volunteered to dress up (much). But his outfit, Tim admits, is less about the thwarting of evil and more about thwarting Kon from finding him while he's on patrol.

Tim looks at Kon and tries not to appear glum.

He keeps *manifesting* out of nowhere when Tim patrols. Batman hasn't said anything so far, but the disapproving looks are increasing. And yes, he *could* just take Kon aside and tell him not to show up unannounced when he's patrolling but it might discourage Kon from doing... other things.

Ones Tim sort of likes.

A lot.

Eventually, he'll have to think of a way to phrase it *anyway*. He doubts Alfred's etiquette books will have any useful suggestions.

There has to be some way to establish boundaries between work and... whatever this is. They haven't exactly talked about it. Their -- relationship? -- consists mostly of Kon pushing and Tim not pushing back, and somehow it leads to orgasms. There hasn't been much talking. It *has* led to Kon showing up in Gotham with alarming regularity, which has also led to Superman showing up to collect him. That led to Batman glowering and a particularly vigorous night of crime-fighting. Which, in turn, led to almost a week of really boring patrols.

So. Sex with Kon equals a lower crime rate.

So. Sex with Kon is good for the Mission.

Tim doubts Batman will buy that argument, despite the impeccable logic. Though he might, if Tim can find a way to phrase *that* properly. Alfred's etiquette books may be more helpful there. Tim makes a mental note to think on it.

Granted, thinking is difficult with Kon *staring* at him that way. Tim can admit he's getting too muscular, too broad-shouldered to pass well as female. But he looks *enough* like a typical private-school girl, right down to the plaid pleated skirt and the glittery cherry-shaped enamel hair clips tucked into the wig that give tonight's persona a minimal rebellion against the dress code enforcers.

The dress code enforcers should have chosen a warmer uniform. The white button down blouse is thin, and the cardigan sweater is too light for this weather. But the girls at Randolph Academy also wear varsity scarves and camel hair coats and their limos have heated leather seats. Which may have something to do with why so many of them have been attacked lately.

He folds his arms across his chest, tucking his hands in to keep warm, and Kon's eyes *widen*.

"What?" Tim snaps. A cold gust across the rooftop makes him shiver.

"You've -- uh. Boobs."

"Silicone padding."

Kon reaches out a little. "Can I --"

"No." It comes out harsher than he meant it, and Tim immediately regrets it, but Kon doesn't seem upset. His lips are parted and Kon just won't stop looking at him in this weirdly *intent* way. Kon doesn't focus like this, not even in battle, and it's unsettling.

"You look..." Kon murmurs.

Tim glances around the empty rooftop, anywhere but at Kon. He tries not to watch Kon moving closer, tries to keep his breathing steady when Kon tentatively fingers a strand of Tim's light brown wig.

"You look *pretty*."

"Batman chose the outfit." Tim fully expects that to act like kryptonite-laced ice water, but Kon just leans in and *nuzzles* him.

"He has good taste."

"There are -- " Probably microphones hidden in the seams, Tim tries to say, but Kon is kissing him hot and slow and wonderful. One big, warm hand rests on Tim's hip and the other on his neck holding him *in*. It makes Tim feel held and a little bit *owned*, and he knows it's another of Kon's ways to push him into accepting what he will never, ever ask for.

Kon makes it so he doesn't have to ask. For anything.

It leaves him gasping a little when Kon breaks off. It makes it so Tim doesn't fight when Kon pushes him back and down until he's leaning against the low rooftop wall.

It's okay, Tim reminds himself. Kon has him and he won't... it's *okay* that Kon has him. So it's perfectly okay when Kon sits him back against the low wall and kneels between Tim's knees. Tim shifts, planting his feet but Kon eases his thighs apart. Kon reaches beneath Tim's skirt and rubs him gently through the simple cotton panties.

"So soft," Kon purrs, cupping Tim's balls through his underwear. Tim tries to be quiet while Kon strokes and squeezes him. He wishes Kon would whisper too, because it's entirely possible that Batman is listening. Tim turned off his communicator, but Batman probably planted his costume with other devices. He *had* made very particular suggestions about the outfit.

Tim's pretty sure that the suggestions weren't intended to lead to Kon fingering his cleft through the thin underwear. He bucks a little when Kon gently bites his ear.

"You're wearing *panties*, Tim."

Tim bites his lip and wishes Kon would whisper.

He turns his head away but it just exposes more skin for Kon to bite. He's not sure if he meant that to happen. Tim doesn't care as much when Kon grinds the heel of his hand against Tim's crotch. He chokes, "It--it's part of the disguise."

Kon breathes hot on Tim's pulse. "It's a *good* disguise. You look -- god..." And gets his hand inside Tim's underwear.

Tim stops the moan, barely. Kon rubs the wet around the head with his thumb and Tim *has* to pant, has to breathe when Kon wraps his fist around Tim's cock and starts to stroke.

Tim holds on to Kon's shoulders, and Kon's face is buried against his ear and he's *saying* things. How hot Tim looks, how good he feels in Kon's hand. Tim doesn't really pay attention, just watches the movement beneath his skirt.

The fingers pushing into his mouth are a surprise.

He tips his head back when Kon pushes in insistently, and sucking them is a reflex that he doesn't want to think too deeply about. Kon works them in and out, and "That's it, get them good and wet. God, your *mouth*..."

The lipstick, Tim thinks. A particular shade of red gloss that make his lips look full and shiny. Tim meets Kon's eyes and sucks his fingers harder.

Kon *groans* and replaces his fingers with his mouth. The kiss is messy and Kon's tongue invades Tim's mouth, completely distracting him until he hears the sound of cloth tearing and feels two fingers pushing into his ass. The kiss muffles Tim's scream.

Kon ripped his panties. He hopes Batman wasn't too attached to them.

The fingers are a steady *push* and Tim's body jerks away from the burn. Kon takes his hand off Tim's cock and wraps it around his waist, holding him still, holding him *down* against the fingers pushing inside him.

"Relax," Kon whispers against his mouth. "I'm not gonna --"

Harder push and Tim bites his lip. "You tore my underwear."

"I'll buy you new ones. Something black and lacy. Or silk. Mm, yeah. Black silk sliding against your cock..."

Tim really does moan when his cock pulses pre-come.

"You'd like that? I should... I should make you wear them under the uniform. Feel that silk against you, make you hard. Make you want this *all* the time..." Tim feels Kon's sharp smile against his cheek and the hard shove in his ass, and Kon's fingers are *there*, pressing gently and making Tim arch.

And Tim is still holding *on* to Kon's shoulders, which is good because Kon lifts him off the wall and lays him flat on his back. Sound of a zipper and Tim looks down to see Kon pulling himself out of his boxers. Kon's cock is *hard* and shiny with pre-come. Tim barely has time to register that before Kon wraps his fist around Tim's cock and jacks him hard.

"Come," Kon whispers. "*Now*."

Short strokes exactly the way Tim likes and he can't hold back. Tim bites his lip and comes as quietly as he can.

Kon catches it in his palm. Tim hears a wet sound and realizes Kon is... Kon is slicking himself with his come. Tim opens his eyes when Kon rubs the wetness against his hole.

"Kon..."

But Kon just lifts Tim's hips off the ground enough to line them up before pushing in.

Tim clenches against the fullness, gritting his teeth and hissing. Kon moves slowly but steadily, and one look at Kon's determined frown tells Tim he's also not going to *stop*.

Tim closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

One last nudge, and Kon's balls are pressed against his ass. Kon breathes hard and curses and pets Tim's thighs with his free hand.

"Fuck, you're... you feel so *good*. I want. I want to make you feel good, Tim..." The soft caress to Tim's cock makes it twitch and swell much too soon, makes Tim move involuntarily. Which makes Kon thrust in response and Tim *groans*.

"Kon, don't. I can't --"

"You can, yes you can. I want to make this good for you, I want to--fuck, you're *tight*..." And Kon starts to move.

Tim locks his ankles around Kon's back to give himself leverage to push into the next thrust, and listens to Kon gasp. Tim tries to concentrate on moving with Kon, but Kon shifts and hits Tim *there*, and Tim has to arch into it. Has to get *more* and move with it, and he thinks Kon might be begging him not to stop, but he can't tell for sure.

And Kon's hand is back on his cock and it's too much, he *can't*, and he tries to tell Kon, but Kon just shakes his head back and forth and jerks him off and moves inside him.

"You have to, Tim, I want you to... fuck, I want *you*..."

I can't, Tim tries to say. It's too much and it feels too good and I can't stop and *please*, but all that he manages is, "*oh*," before he shoots in Kon's fist again.

Kon whines and hauls Tim up, spreading him across Kon's lap and pushes in and in and *in*. Tim just wraps his arms around Kon, buries his face against his sweaty neck, and *works* his hips.

Tim hears the sharp cry against his shoulder and feels Kon shuddering all over before he feels the wet splash inside him. He rides Kon gently through it and pets Kon's hair until he stops shaking, listening to the sound of Kon's shaky breath against his blouse.

Kon doesn't seem inclined to let go, even after his breathing settles down. Tim has to squirm hard to get the point across. Kon finally releases him, and Tim stands and straightens his outfit. The panties are a total loss, so he slides them off.

Kon blinks. "Cherry print?"

"I didn't pick them."

"I am *so* not going to ask."

"Safer that way."

Tim straightens his skirt and adjusts his bra until the silicone pads settle correctly on his chest. He's sure his makeup is ruined. Tim looks around for his purse, and finds it surprisingly far away from where *he'd* landed.

He ignores Kon watching him take out a compact. Damn. Stupid lipstick smudges too easily. He wipes it before smearing on a new layer of gloss and makes a mental note to experiment with a smudge-proof formula.

Heavy hands squeeze his shoulders and Tim glances up from his reflection. Kon has made himself presentable, but now he's scrutinizing Tim's face. "What?"

"Wig's crooked." Kon gives it a quick tug.

Tim's mouth twitches without his permission. "Thanks."

"Hey, anytime you need help with your garters or anything..."

"You want to play with my garters, you have to buy me dinner first." It comes out dry and humorless but Kon smirks anyway.

Without underwear, the skirt fabric itches. Tim reaches under it to scratch his thigh. His hand brushes something small and sharp. He plucks it out with two fingers, dragging it out of the fabric. A small wire with a bulbous end and a blinking red light.

"What's that?" Kon peers at the wire in Tim's hand.

He feels the color slowly leave his face and crushes the bulb end between his fingers. "He's always listening. Especially when I'm undercover."

Kon's expression is somewhere beyond horrified. "Why the hell didn't you *tell* me your costume had microphones planted in it?"

You might have stopped, Tim doesn't say. He slips the device into his sweater pocket. "Batman already knows about.... us."

"He *knows*? How the hell -- "

"He suspects. Now he knows." Tim tries to look reassuring. "It's not really important."

It doesn't work. Kon grabs Tim's biceps. "It completely *is*. I don't -- I don't want you in trouble because of me." And Kon looks worried, and it makes Tim want to reassure him somehow.

He doesn't really know how to do that. He thinks he *ought* to, or at least be able to try. The best he can do is give Kon's wrist a squeeze.

"It'll be fine," he tells Kon. By some definitions of fine.

"You should've told me," Kon mumbles. "I wouldn't have -- "

Tim tilts his head and catches Kon's mouth. He makes the kiss slow and presses as much of himself as he can against Kon's body. "I have my reasons," he says when he breaks the kiss. Whether or not he's entirely sure what those are.

Kon's embarrassment quickly fades when Tim licks his way into Kon's mouth. He presses his hands against Tim's back and pulls him even closer. Tim finds he likes the feeling of hands pressed against his bra strap.

Kon breaks the kiss. "I should probably go," he says, though he doesn't seem inclined to let go of Tim any time soon. "Want a ride home?"

"I think I'll pass on flying in a skirt. I don't know how Supergirl does it."

"She doesn't wear cherry-print panties, for a start."

Tim glares, a little.

Kon nuzzles his face, uncaring. "You'll be at the Tower this weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Kon says, and backs away a couple of steps before bending down and grabbing the shredded panties up from where Tim dropped them.

"Hey!" Tim yells, but Kon just shoves them in his pocket and takes off into the night.

Tim *really* hopes Batman wasn't too attached to those. He sighs, slinging his purse over his shoulder, and looks for a way off the roof. On the upside, the longer it takes, the more time he'll have to come up with reasonable explanations for his behavior.

For other people, if not for himself.

~end