DRABBLE: Shower Time (Tim/Kon)
Title: Shower Time
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Kon
Rating: R
Warnings: None needed
Summary: Tim and Kon both don't enjoy showers, for different reasons. But taking a shower together? That's different.
Word Count: 260
Notes: For kirax2 's birthday! Just a bit of Tim/Kon fluffiness...
Kon doesn’t like showers.
It’s not that he doesn’t like to be clean or anything. It’s just.
Just.
He doesn’t like the sound of liquid, the way it muffles sound from the outside. Doesn’t like the feeling of glass between him and the world, cutting him off, sealing him in. Steam obscuring his vision. Alone.
He doesn’t like them.
But right now, now when there’s another body against him, vivid and panting, the steam is a veil shielding them from the world. The cascading water is a curtain of sound that wraps them together, not something that keeps him apart.
Tim moans something into his collarbone and Kon smiles. Tim’s hair is soaking wet, water running everywhere, sheening both their bodies, melting them together, and Kon isn’t alone.
: : :
Tim doesn’t like showers.
Yes, he saw Psycho when he was young, but that isn’t it. Well, not totally.
Showers are a bad strategy risk. You’re vulnerable in a shower. Naked, unarmed, water in your eyes, the sound blotting out any potential approach. The floor is slippery and gives bad purchase for bare feet.
Vulnerable.
But right now he can feel arms around him, holding him steady. Nothing could shake the two of them together, twined around each other, solid as stone. “So safe,” he says against Kon’s skin, a moan of bliss wrung from him, and is relieved when Kon doesn’t ask him what he said.
He pushes harder against Kon and knows that even if his feet slip, Kon will never let him fall.
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Kon
Rating: R
Warnings: None needed
Summary: Tim and Kon both don't enjoy showers, for different reasons. But taking a shower together? That's different.
Word Count: 260
Notes: For kirax2 's birthday! Just a bit of Tim/Kon fluffiness...
Kon doesn’t like showers.
It’s not that he doesn’t like to be clean or anything. It’s just.
Just.
He doesn’t like the sound of liquid, the way it muffles sound from the outside. Doesn’t like the feeling of glass between him and the world, cutting him off, sealing him in. Steam obscuring his vision. Alone.
He doesn’t like them.
But right now, now when there’s another body against him, vivid and panting, the steam is a veil shielding them from the world. The cascading water is a curtain of sound that wraps them together, not something that keeps him apart.
Tim moans something into his collarbone and Kon smiles. Tim’s hair is soaking wet, water running everywhere, sheening both their bodies, melting them together, and Kon isn’t alone.
: : :
Tim doesn’t like showers.
Yes, he saw Psycho when he was young, but that isn’t it. Well, not totally.
Showers are a bad strategy risk. You’re vulnerable in a shower. Naked, unarmed, water in your eyes, the sound blotting out any potential approach. The floor is slippery and gives bad purchase for bare feet.
Vulnerable.
But right now he can feel arms around him, holding him steady. Nothing could shake the two of them together, twined around each other, solid as stone. “So safe,” he says against Kon’s skin, a moan of bliss wrung from him, and is relieved when Kon doesn’t ask him what he said.
He pushes harder against Kon and knows that even if his feet slip, Kon will never let him fall.