Cover Us With Song

by Weirdness Magnet

April 25, 2004

Summary: Kon learns a lot during a study session with Tim.

Disclaimers: Tim and Kon aren't mine.  But they make some long nights a little more pleasant.

Rating: NC-17.  Added Bonus: Virgin!Kon.

Spoilers: None.

Title: I couldn't resist a robin reference from Robert Frost: "In spring more mortal singers than belong/To any one place cover us with song./Thrush, bluebird, blackbird, sparrow, and robin throng...."

Acknowledgements: If I had a nickel for every bunny Te gave me... I'd have a pile nickels and no rabbits on my desk.  
 

***

Springtime in Smallville is as idyllic and boring as it is every other time of year, only warmer and greener. The air is hazy with pollen and filled with the frenetic chirp of newly-thawed-out birds and the drowsy hum of bees. It's just lively enough to make concentrating in school impossible.

Not like Kon hasn't had problems with that during the winter. Or the previous fall.

Kon thumbs through his notes. He thinks he should give up and invest in sketchpads because he has filled way too many lined notebooks with drawings.  That one of the airplane turned out kinda cool, though not nearly as technically detailed as Tim's last in-class "doodle".

He has no idea how long it takes to get from Gotham by Bat-wing, but Tim said he'd get there around lunchtime. He tries to picture Tim in regular clothes and without the mask.  The only image he can conjure is the memory of the gauntlet against his neck and the feel of Tim sucking on his tongue.

Kon shakes his head to clear it, plops the notebook on top of the rest of his books and trudges downstairs.

Tim had better get here soon. Mrs. Kent is *singing* again, which means that last night she and Mr. Kent were...

Repress, Kon tells himself.

She's washing dishes, humming idly and smiles when she sees him. Bright sunlight from the window makes her hair look grayer than usual. He tries to picture what she looked like when she was young.

"All set for your study session?" she asks, wiping her hands.

"I think so." He looks at the pile of books and reminds himself that he's fought monsters and singed holes in Superman's cape. He refuses to be done in by trig.

"Tim still on schedule?"

"Should be. He e-mailed right before he left, so he ought to get here--"

A silhouette passes in front of the screen door.

"--now."

Tim looks remarkably ordinary in jeans and a t-shirt, but seeing him without the mask throws Kon. He's used to watching the guy *sleep* in the mask, and its absence makes Tim's face look paler and the blue eyes look bigger.

He looks... naked.

The thought makes Kon swallow hard as Tim moves into the kitchen.

"How are you, Tim?" Mrs. Kent smiles broadly but Kon observes her thorough inspection in the up-down glance.

"I'm doing well, Mrs. Kent. And you?"

"The spring planting is keeping us busy. You look thin. Have a muffin."

Kon rolls his eyes. "Aunt Martha, he's fine."

"He's thin. That Batman hasn't been feeding him enough."

Kon watches Tim trying *hard* not to laugh as he takes a muffin from the pile. "Batman feeds me fine, Mrs. Kent. He's just on a wheat grass kick right now."

"Yech," Kon and Mrs. Kent chorus.

Tim chews on the blueberry goodness and cocks an eyebrow at Kon. The slightly devious look makes Kon blush.

Kon clears his throat. "You ready to study?"

Tim pats his backpack. "Everything you ever needed to know to pass trigonometry and a history class with a hopelessly Eurocentric world view lies within."

"Thank god."

Mrs. Kent hands Kon a basket and checkered blanket. "Here you go. Have fun."

Kon blinks at the basket like it might contain something ticking. "What's this?"

"A picnic. I need to clean house and it's a beautiful day. Why don't you two find a nice shady spot and stay out from underfoot for a few hours while I wax the floors, okay?"

Kon looks at Tim, whose face is now almost *too* blank. Kon feels the flush creep into his hairline and he has to look away as he scoops up the basket and his books.

"See you later, Aunt Martha."

"Have fun, boys. Dinner's at six."

Kon can hear her singing as they walk down the drive.

**

"What the *hell* is a cosine?"

An oak tree shades Kon and Tim from the afternoon sun. Wreckage from the picnic lunch has been shoved aside in favor of the books and papers spread between them, fluttering in the breeze.

"Kon, relax, it's--"

"No!" Kon screeches. "We've been at this for *two hours* and I have no idea where they get these numbers."

"There are tables in the back of the book. You just look up the--"

"They're making this up. They are pulling these numbers out of their *asses* and they don't actually exist. Cosines and tangents are just a myth and if I don't believe in them they'll go awayyyyyyy..."

"*Kon*." Tim grabs his shoulder. "You're gripping. Breathe."

"I *am* breathing."

"Do a better job."

Kon shuts his eyes and forces himself to calm down. He's not stupid, and he's got the genetic material of... well, at least *one* really smart guy running through him. He can do this.

Kon opens his eyes.

He stares at the numbers.

Kon closes his eyes again and flops backwards on the blanket. "I am so *completely* screwed."

He feels Tim petting his chest. It feels strange without the gauntlets.

"It's going to be fine. There's another week before the midterm."

"This study session was my last, best hope at passing, Tim. There is no possible way I'm going to get through this."

"Not with that attitude."

Kon opens his eyes and glares at him. "Fuck *you*."

Tim quirks his eyebrow again.

Kon launches from his reclined position, rolling until Tim is beneath him. Tim's wrists look deceptively vulnerable in his grasp. Kon knows that Tim is fully schooled in at least six ways to get out of this position, three of which should kill a normal person outright.

Tim isn't using any of them. He's just lying beneath Kon, looking bemused.

"You are *not* helping the situation," Kon complains.  "Stop smirking at me."

"I don't smirk. Nightwing smirks. And I am too helping."

"Giving me a 'buck up little camper' speech is *not* helping."

"Kon... what's 13,897 times 481?"

"Six million, six hundred eighty-four thousand, four hundred fifty-seven." Kon blinks. "Holy shit."

"You can do this."

Kon blinks again. "How... how did I do that?"

Tim's mouth quirks into something that would only be considered a smile by the Bat-family. "I read Superman's file. He's a lot smarter than most people realize."

Kon releases Tim's wrists, and Tim props himself up on his elbows. "You're trying too hard," Tim tells him, "and it's blocking you. Stop thinking about it so much. Just let it come naturally."

"I should use the Force, Obi-Wan?"

Tim really does smirk this time. "If it'll help you pass the midterm."

Kon sighs. His shoulders slump a little, releasing their tension. He leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of Tim's hips. He's close enough to nuzzle Tim, if he wanted.

"Thank you," Kon says instead.  "For helping me with this. For coming out here. For saving me from listening to the Kents -- never mind. Just... thanks."

Tim leans forward and brushes the tip of his nose against the end of Kon's. "You're welcome." His breath smells like Mrs. Kent's peach cobbler.

Kon's lips barely brush Tim's the first time, and the second. The third time Kon kisses him, Tim grips the back of Kon's head, holds him still and *licks* his mouth. Relief floods through him, because Tim had been way too focused on cosines and tangents and Kon was starting to think he wasn't going to *get* this.

That maybe the kiss at the Tower was just another of Tim's experiments.  Nothing serious.

But he remembers that this is *Tim*, who's serious about everything and doesn't even get out of bed without at least three backup plans.  Kon knows that Tim is nothing if not *deliberate*. 

Kon closes his eyes and lets Tim pull him down onto the blanket, and Kon's hands stroke down his body to settle on Tim's hip. Tim makes a pleased sound when Kon's fingers find the skin above his waistband. It's soft in a way Kon wasn't expecting, even the scar that trails into the bowl. A thick one too, and he wonders how it happened. He makes a mental note to ask later.

Right now, Tim is nuzzling and sucking warm kisses on Kon's neck, biting occasionally and making Kon's hips jerk. Kon groans when he rocks against the hardness in Tim's jeans.

"Tim..."

"Yeah."

"You feel..." He presses his hand against the skin of Tim's belly.

"So do you."

Kon yanks up Tim's t-shirt to expose all that pale skin, and he bites and licks at the scars.  Tim gasps when Kon sucks at the one marring his collarbone.

"You like that?"

"Yes," Tim hisses.

"I like doing it to you."

"*Kon*."

Kon has to close his eyes and rock against Tim's hips. His name... it sounds *completely* different when Tim says it.

He carefully bites and sucks the pink point of Tim's nipple until it peaks, then soothes the delicate bud with a lick and rhythmically pulses against it with his lips and tongue, like he's seen the calves do.

Tim's fingers dig into his scalp. "*Harder.*"

Kon groans and *crushes* Tim's body against his mouth. He sucks *hard* and it's going to bruise but Tim is *bucking* up against him and moaning constantly and Kon couldn't stop if he wanted.

"*Kon*," Tim pants, and those fingers are working in Kon's hair and it feels... *possessive*. He sucks harder and feels the grind of Tim against his cock, feels his dick pulsing pre-come into his jeans. Kon is never, *ever* going to stop... until he shifts and can see a bruise forming across Tim's nipple. Kon smoothes his tongue over it and pulls off.

Tim falls back onto the blanket, panting hard and skin flushed. He looks the way he does after a particularly thorough workout, except for the gleaming blue-rimmed pupils.

"My *god*," Tim gasps.  Kon notices Tim is breathing really *hard* and he's flushed all the way down his chest and *shaking*.

"Did you. Um. Did you come?"

Tim pants a chuckle. "No, but I thought *really* hard about it."

"Oh," Kon tries to hide the disappointment from his voice. "Um. I can. Do better."

And Tim is staring at him with a weird mixture of want and possibly fear.  "Do better?"

"Um. Yeah. I mean. I'd like to try." Kon's fingers thread into the loops of Tim's jeans.

Tim blinks. "...Okay."

Kon pulls Tim's shirt off the rest of the way and tastes the thin sheen of sweat on Tim's belly.  The hands in his hair urge him lower, but Kon has to trace the scars with his tongue before sliding down to mouth the dark spot staining Tim's jeans.  Mouthing it makes the wet spot wetter and earns him a moan and a *push* against his face. He smiles and works the fly open until Tim's cock is exposed.

The shaft is blood-dark, leaking a little at the tip, and Kon memorizes the pattern of veins and the curve of it as it rests against Tim's stomach.   He gently fingers the dark, finely-textured curls covering the sac. 

"See anything interesting?"

Kon looks up to see Tim watching him with a slightly quizzical expression.

"You're beautiful," Kon blurts, and then blushes hard.

Tim gives him a small smile and toes off his sneakers. Kon takes the hint and pulls the jeans off completely.

He settles between the spread thighs and draws his fingers along the length of Tim's cock. It's different from his own and he's never done this for a guy before, but a penis is a penis, in theory anyway, and Kon can do this.

Tim *wants* him to do this.

Kon licks the wetness off the tip experimentally. It's saltier than his own and tastes thick in his mouth. He stretches his mouth around the head, sucking the way he did to Tim's nipple at first, and it makes Tim *grasp* Kon's hair.

"Kon, fuck, *yes*..."

Jesus. Kon's going to come in his *pants* if Tim keeps saying his name like that.

The head feels *large* in his mouth and Kon has to work his jaw to adjust. He keeps his fist at the base, licking the underside and swirling his tongue around the head on the upstroke.

Tim makes little whimpers and spreads his thighs wider but Kon wants to feel more of his skin, so he pushes Tim's legs up on his shoulders.  The position limits Kon's vision to the cock and balls he's working with his mouth, and he likes being *surrounded* by Tim so he can feel every shudder.  The thought of maybe being *inside* all that heat makes Kon groan around the cock in his mouth.

Kon focuses on licking a stripe up Tim's length and working his lips against the ridge, making the kiss messy and wet. He sucks at the faint scar circling the shaft and Tim *groans* and uses Kon's back as leverage to arch up.

"Suck me, do it *hard*..."

Kon takes him in as far as he can, sucking and swallowing and his tongue can't hold still, has to rub against the shaft as it moves in and out of his mouth. He's trying really hard not to bruise Tim, but the harder he sucks the more Tim *pushes* into his mouth and it makes Kon need to do it *harder*.

Tim's thighs shake and flex and he's making strangled "nnn" noises that make Kon's dick *ache* and pulse. Kon reaches down with one hand and rubs against his dick through the denim in rhythm with the strokes he's giving Tim's shaft.

The hands in his hair dig in to this scalp and Tim's ass lifts off the blanket.  He *works* Kon's head up and down, fucking Kon's mouth and making him whimper.  The thrusts are hard and nearly brutal and he thinks Tim is begging and Kon never wants Tim to stop *using* him like this.

Kon feels the heat flood his mouth, swallows reflexively and only coughs a little, and Tim *shakes* and groans, "Oh, god, *Kon*..."

Kon whimpers around Tim and comes inside his jeans.

He rests his head against Tim's thigh, his hot breath making it prickle. Tim pets his head, and eventually Kon can raise it enough to look up at him. The hand trails down to cup Kon's jaw, running a thumb against his lips.

Kon glances down. "I think I bruised you."

Tim examines the mouth-shaped bruise already forming. "I'll keep it inside something armor plated for a couple of days."
 

"Sorry."

"Don't be."  The look Kon gets is intense, nearly burning.  Definitely a Robin-look and for a moment Kon completely forgets Tim isn't wearing the mask.

Kon squeezes Tim's leg. "Freak."

"You say that like you *mind*."

Kon shifts, curling against Tim's back and wrapping his arms around him. Tim hesitates at first, but a carefully applied use of Kon's strength seems to convince Tim to settle against him.

"You're not a cuddler."

"Not usually."

"Get used to it." Kon breathes in the smell of Tim's sweat-slicked hair. He feels Tim shift and relax in his grip.

They lie together for a long time on the blanket beneath an oak tree, books and papers rustling in a light breeze.  Kon glances at the discarded math book.  Maybe Tim can tutor him during summer school. 

The birds twitter and Kon feels the heart beating beneath his palm.  Tim shifts in his arms, snoring lightly.

Kon closes his eyes and dozes off, listening to the birds singing above them.

~end