[fic]: Back Forty Rendezvous
Title: Back Forty Rendezvous
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Attempts at humor
Spoilers/Continuity: Vague
Characters/Pairing: Tim/Kon, Mystery Guest
Editing Credits: O! To be a batstalker and be so wonderful that you bring aid and assistance to all the lucky writers who are me.
Summary: Tim and Kon sneak off for some fun in the sun, but someone or something keeps interrupting them.
Dedication: This piece was inspired by a drawing from the incomparable faraway_hills and is a gift to her for being so wonderful and working so hard all the time!
Disclaimer: All the characters used herein are property of DC and Warner Brothers Entertainment, and this story is intended solely for entertainment and saucy fun. I own nothing.
Author's Note: If you cannot see the picture just above this sentence click HERE
Back Forty Rendezvous
“You know,” Conner said as he led Tim between the stalks of ripening corn, casting back an amused glance. “I think that hat looks good on you.”
“Shut up,” Tim said sullenly. Just because Martha Kent could probably guilt a promise out of a stone didn’t mean Conner could mock him for wearing the hand woven sun hat. Or for having the ‘delicate complexion’ that made Ma Kent force said hat upon him.
It was a gorgeous late summer day in Kansas, with the sun beating down mercilessly on the tall stalks of corn around them. Conner had said they were probably in for an early harvest, and judging by how the ears were nearly bursting with sweet white corn, Tim wagered he knew what he was talking about. Unfortunately, the clear, cloudless sky and high Kansas sun had Martha worried about the condition of Tim’s skin, and it had taken a bit of finagling to get away with only the hat. Sun block would have been more effective; but not very fair to Conner, as it didn’t taste good, and Conner liked to lick. It was something Tim found a bit unhygienic, however in the heat of the moment it was quite enjoyable.
“What?” Conner asked teasingly, but the gentle way he squeezed Tim’s hand as they walked through the corn tempered his tone. “I'm serious. You’re super-cute.”
“Your sense of humor is seriously lacking when compared to your other senses,” Tim told him gravely. “It’s a weakness that merits exploration.”
“Oh, and you’re a laugh riot,” Conner said, grinning, and hefted up the blanket he was carrying further under his other arm. His hand was warm and comfortable and practically enveloped Tim’s own. Although, Conner’s hand was by no means baby soft, he had no calluses; an odd contrast to Tim’s own lightly scarred fingers.
They walked until Conner stopped at a small clearing between the corn stalks. Tim didn’t know what exactly distinguished it from the ones they had passed along the way. There was just enough room for them to stand and spread the blanket, but that had been the case with the others, and nothing about this one seemed significant or special. The way Conner dropped the blanket and tugged Tim into his arms like there was no tomorrow made Tim think he’d simply run out of patience.
“Finally far away enough now, are we?” Tim drawled.
Conner rolled his eyes and laced Tim’s hands together behind his back. “Oh like you have room to talk, Mr. We Can’t Have Sex On Either Of The Coasts.”
“And you’d like to have Clark overhear us or,” Tim started.
“No, Tim,” Conner sang dully. “I would not like that.” Certain aspects of their relationship proved problematic, namely the fact that neither of them cared for voyeurs, inadvertent or otherwise. Titan’s Tower was only safe if the rest of the team wasn’t around. If they were... Well, it was frankly unfair to Cassie, and Tim and Kon been interrupted by Bart (who was entirely too comfortable with their sex life for Tim’s peace of mind) far too many times. Also it was quite a commute.
Gotham presented quite a few problems as well. While Dick was far more accepting of metahumans than Bruce, and it was technically his show, Bruce did still make his home at the Manor. And while his feelings towards Conner had warmed considerably, they hadn’t warmed to the point where he’d be happy letting Superboy sodomize one of his Robins.
Besides, in addition to busybody interfering vigilantes, Gotham was home to far too many cameras. Comings and goings were noted.
Now, ideally Tim could have left Gotham and met Conner somewhere halfway, but there was an added wrinkle: Clark, and to a lesser extent, Kara. Also possibly Karen Starr but Tim didn’t think she ever listened for Conner’s voice, so there wasn’t the same risk of being overheard. Also, they didn’t really know each other. At least Kara would never tell anyone, although she might never let them forget it.
So, Tim and Conner wound up making semi-convoluted plans, like walking out into the middle of a corn field so they weren’t around Ma Kent (who Clark paid a lot of attention to) and certain Kryptonians didn’t hear things they shouldn’t while they were protecting Metropolis. All of that just so the two of them could have some privacy.
Sometimes it was tough being a teenage superhero.
“I,” Conner said and his voice was like a glass of glacial runoff, aerated just enough to take the edge of cold off after a long hike and refreshing in the extreme. It knocked Tim out of his thoughts and back into the pleasant circle of Conner’s arms. “Was just thinking, of how different this is, from when we first met, and you wouldn’t even take your mask off. And now you’re here, wearing your cute hat.”
“If you keep talking about the hat,” Tim said as he slid his hands down to examine the contours of Conner’s well-constructed buttocks. “I’m going to have to discipline you.”
“Oh yeah?” Conner rumbled, pleased. “Gonna tell me I’m a bad boy?”
“Well,” Tim said as he drew parallel lines down the round firm cheeks with his thumbs, soft denim under his skin. “I was actually thinking of telling Ma Kent you didn’t like her hat.”
There was silence for a moment. Then: “Not cool.”
Tim huffed in amusement at the look of consternation that crossed over Conner’s face.
“You’re such a buzzkill,” groused the larger boy.
“Like I could discourage you, horn dog,” Tim said, looking around and taking in the pastoral nature of his surroundings. “Taking me out into the cornfield so we can have sex in the dirt.”
“You’re such a city boy,” Conner said a little more fondly, stroking the small of Tim’s back. “The corn field has been a destination of unparalleled romance for Kansas teens since time immemorial.”
“You have become such a country bumpkin,” Tim told him and Conner, the light glinting off his glasses. “Still, you are my country bumpkin.”
“Yeah, except we both know I could be your surfer boy and see your city boy to boot,” he said smugly, and tilted his head. Tim automatically angled the other way and let Conner draw him up for a kiss. “Besides, you’ll always first and foremost be my Wonder Boy.”
“Superjerk,” Tim grinned and Conner pulled him so Tim could kiss him deeply.
“Mmm,” Conner hummed after they were done. Tim leaned back as Conner’s hands drifted down to his hips. “My Freaky Bat-brain.”
“My Clone-Boy,” Time teased, his breath hitching. Conner’s face focused on something, maybe Tim’s eyes.
“Robin,” he whispered, and they weren’t joking anymore.
“Kon-El,” Tim said, the syllables barely escaping his lips, and then there was no more room for words. Tim took his time unbuttoning Conner’s shirt as they kissed, slowly revealing the black ‘S’ t-shirt beneath it. He’d never say this, but he got a little thrill every time he did this, like he had his own personal Superman. It wasn’t something he’d tell Conner, because he didn’t ever want Conner to think that what they had was some… fetish thing. But he couldn’t deny that it was intensely arousing, to be the one who unbuttoned the ‘S’.
“Did you hear that?” Conner asked suddenly, and Tim stilled.
“No…” Tim said and Conner shrugged, return his attentions to Tim. As much as Tim would have liked to let Conner continue to lick and kiss his neck, he couldn’t ignore his words. “Conner, stop.”
“Was nothing,” Conner murmured, pulling back to look at Tim; gentle heat in his eyes behind the glasses that kept Conner Kent from Superboy. “The wind.”
“Try looking, first,” Tim said as he started buttoning up Conner’s shirt. Conner sighed and looked around slowly, with great deliberation, casting his gaze about in a wide circle. Tim grew suspicious.
“Nope, don’t see anything,” Kon said when he was finished, and pulled Tim in tight. “Better go back to making out.” Extending one foot Conner tapped the blanket and it unfurled over the dirt.
“Right, and as much as I’d like to,” Tim said, and he really did want nothing more than for Conner to bear him down onto the ground. “You could try not to fake it.”
Conner froze. “Fake it?” he asked, sounding a little scared.
“Oh good lord, Conner,” Tim said, bemused. “Is that phrase a trigger for you?”
“Shut up,” he said sourly. “And get your ass on the ground.”
Tim barked a short sharp laugh and held onto his hat as he toed off his shoes and stepped onto the blanket. “With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”
Conner would deny it, but he was nearly as paranoid as Tim about the two of them being caught doing anything. If he wasn’t worried then Tim could chalk the noise up to them being outside. Besides, who would have followed them out here already? They hadn’t even started.
Strong arms encircled him, gently turning Tim so that he faced the hollow of Conner’s throat. Conner nuzzled the brim of Tim’s hat up, looking down at him under it.
“Hey,” Kon said in a soft voice, putting his bare toes on top of Tim’s sock covered feet.
“Hey yourself,” Tim said back a little hoarsely. Sometimes the sheer intensity of feeling, the overwhelming sensations of smell and touch from being with Conner, seemed surreal. This close the intimacy was intoxicating, the warmth intermingled with the sweet scent of corn, which was in turn interwoven with the smell of green grass and the earthy musk of the soil. All the growing things surrounded them like threads: shades and strands of greens, whites and yellows against the backdrops of brown and blue.
Conner kissed him, and even though the hat and the glasses made it even more awkward than their costumes ever seemed to, it was perfect. Tim began to unbutton his shirt yet again, as Conner’s hands moved in competing lines up and down Tim’s back, horribly wrinkling his shirt.
“You’re going to look so perfect out here,” Conner whispered against his mouth as he slid Tim’s shirt up and fit one large hand, barely, under Tim’s waist band to slide a finger down the cleft of his ass. Tim shivered, the feeling of Conner’s finger inching toward his hole rising up and down his spine and straight to his penis. “Naked in this cornfield.”
“Just as long as you don’t let me get burned,” Tim gasped as Conner started to slide the hand further down the back of Tim’s pants. For some reason he was having trouble focusing on the next button as he craned his back to give Conner better access.
“Don’t worry,” Conner said, sounding a little distracted. “I’ll keep you in the shade-wait.”
This time they both froze, and Tim was horribly aware of the obscene tableau they must make. Conner’s hand slipped out of his pants and Tim straightened up, his hands still poised on Conner’s shirt.
“What is it?” Tim asked. Conner took off his glasses and squinted. He had the distant look on his face that meant he was listening to something outside of Tim’s range.
“Something’s coming?” Tim frowned. He needed more to go on. They could have only seconds to prepare if it was a threat-
“Oh,” Conner relaxed and looked exasperated and Tim relaxed a little in turn. “Never mind.”
“Conner…” Tim trailed off menacingly.
“No, I mean-oh just-here boy!” Conner called and then whistled at a higher pitch than Tim could hear. Krypto trotted through the corn, albeit at a foot above the ground, looking hesitant, his tail wagging only slightly.
“So this is our guest,” Tim said, relaxing completely. “I have to admit, this is an eventuality I didn’t consider.”
“Yeah, because he’s easy to take care of,” Conner said, dropping his glasses. “Krypto, get out of here!” Krypto looked at him mournfully and didn’t move. Conner’s eyes narrowed. “Krypto, SCAT!”
The hovering dog tucked his tail under his legs and fled into the corn.
“Don’t know what was up with him,” Conner muttered and turned to Tim. “Now where were we?”
“You were skipping all the bases and running straight to home,” Tim said as he opened Conner’s button-down up.
“Sounds like a fantastic idea,” Conner said with a smirk and with a little lift Tim found himself up in the air, his hat tumbling off his head before he was pressed down onto the blanket, Conner covering his body. “It’s been ages.”
“It’s been a week.”
“Yeah,” Conner said, nodding rapidly. “Ages. Now let’s get you out of these clothes.”
Between the tactile telekinesis, super speed, and Conner’s own flair at undressing Tim, it was like being bombarded by hands. For a brief moment Tim knew a wondrous confusion as his buttons undid themselves and his clothing seemed to writhe itself open. Conner leaned back to stare down at Tim, silhouetted by the light of the sky that emphasized the contours of his sizeable frame, before he lowered himself again to press a soft kiss to Tim’s mouth.
The kiss deepened, Conner moaning into Tim’s mouth, but then- noise always came more easily to him when they began. It still took time for Tim to become comfortable, although there was no faster way than being surrounded by the smell and feel of Conner.
For the third time Conner became perfectly still, alert and then he started to growl. He turned his head and Tim followed his gaze to see Krypto, creeping around low, with his head almost perpendicular to the ground and staring at them with massive, soulful eyes.
“Oh my god, this dog,” Conner snapped and dropped his head beside Tim’s.
“I have read,” Tim said slowly, “That some dogs don’t respond to sharing all that well.”
“Yeah?” Conner said and glowered at Krypto who strained to look the picture of innocence as his tail thumped weakly. ‘What?’ The dog seemed to say. ‘Oh you’re looking at me? I was just investigating this stalk of corn. It smells really cool. Like, totally awesome. In fact I think I might have to pee on it, it’s so interesting.’
“I do not know if that’s the case with super-intelligent extra-terrestrial canids,” Tim continued.
“And there’s no chance you’ll keep going with him around,” Conner said glancing at Tim.
“Not a one,” Tim said solemnly.
“You hear that, Krypto?” Conner growled, his eyes flashing. “You’re standing between me and sex. Keep doing so and I might be guilty of extra-terrestrial canine-acide.” Krypto cringed, his tail tucking between his legs.
“Canicide,” Tim corrected quietly and Conner glowered at him. “If you’re gonna do the time for the crime, you may as well do it right.”
Krypto looked positively wretched crouched on the ground, and Tim actually felt kind of bad.
“I don’t care,” Conner said, turning his nose up a little, like a child. “It’s hard enough trying to get your pants off, I don’t need the damn dog making it more difficult.”
“Well as romantic as that is,” Tim said slowly, looking at how repentant Krypto was and doing a little mental math, “what do you think the possibility is he was sent to keep an eye on us?”
There was silence as Conner considered this. Krypto looked hopeful
“Krypto, did Clark put you up to this?” Conner asked. The dog barked once and his tail wagged. “Oh, crap,” Conner groaned, slapping his face and collapsing on top of Tim, who let out of an ‘oof’. “I knew we got away with this too easily.”
“Crap,” Tim echoed as variables began to race through his head. “I really hadn’t factored Krypto into the equation. I’m going to need some time to come up with a new plan.”
“… Or we could just talk to them.”
“You want to talk to Bruce and Clark about our sex life,” Tim said, and Conner winced, which was gratifying but at the same time not nearly enough. The idea was impossible.
“No, I don’t. But then again, we don’t have to.”
“What?” Tim asked with some reluctance.
“Dude, aren’t you an emancipated minor?”
“Yes,” Tim said.
“Well, who’s my guardian? Cuz I’ll tell you this, it’s not Clark.”
“You would rather talk about sex with Ma Kent than Clark,” Tim asked in a deadpan, and Conner shuddered. Which actually felt pretty good, although really dirty, given that Krypto was staring at them, quiet and happily panting in the Kansas sun.
“God no. But, and this important,” Conner said and started to look smug. “He’s got no business in my business and he knows it. And there’s no way in Hell he’s gonna wanna talk to Ma anymore than me.”
“I,” Tim corrected reflexively and was rewarded with a telekinetic pinch on the behind for his trouble. “And that doesn’t solve our present dilemma, jerk.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a dog whisperer,” Conner said, still smirking. “Krypto, hey Boy.”
Krypto leapt to his feet and trotted over to them. Conner sat back on his heels and the sun beat down unimpeded on Tim’s fair skin. He shaded his eyes against the glare as Conner straddled him.
“Hey there, Buddy,” Conner said in a warm voice. “That’s a Good Boy. Now, listen here: Go Home and Stay With Ma. And think about who’s going to play Fetch with you, me or Clark, hm?”
Krypto tilted his head to one side and Tim sighed. He knew that the dog wasn’t an earth canine by any stretch and was vastly more intelligent, but there was no way that-Krypto was leaving.
“Good boy!” Conner called after him, and then looked down at Tim. “Okay, so, no more interruptions?”
“With our luck?” Tim asked, putting his hands on Conner’s unbuckled but unopened pants. “Make the first one quick, and then take our time.”
“Awesome,” Conner said.
It turned out they weren’t interrupted, and nothing else went awry, although Tim did get a bit pink around the edges.
The hat, which at some point wound up underneath them, was left unrecognizable. Conner vowed to get Tim another one. Tim, in turn, vowed to do something unspeakable to Conner with a cob of corn until he relented.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Attempts at humor
Spoilers/Continuity: Vague
Characters/Pairing: Tim/Kon, Mystery Guest
Editing Credits: O! To be a batstalker and be so wonderful that you bring aid and assistance to all the lucky writers who are me.
Summary: Tim and Kon sneak off for some fun in the sun, but someone or something keeps interrupting them.
Dedication: This piece was inspired by a drawing from the incomparable faraway_hills and is a gift to her for being so wonderful and working so hard all the time!
Disclaimer: All the characters used herein are property of DC and Warner Brothers Entertainment, and this story is intended solely for entertainment and saucy fun. I own nothing.
Author's Note: If you cannot see the picture just above this sentence click HERE
Back Forty Rendezvous
“You know,” Conner said as he led Tim between the stalks of ripening corn, casting back an amused glance. “I think that hat looks good on you.”
“Shut up,” Tim said sullenly. Just because Martha Kent could probably guilt a promise out of a stone didn’t mean Conner could mock him for wearing the hand woven sun hat. Or for having the ‘delicate complexion’ that made Ma Kent force said hat upon him.
It was a gorgeous late summer day in Kansas, with the sun beating down mercilessly on the tall stalks of corn around them. Conner had said they were probably in for an early harvest, and judging by how the ears were nearly bursting with sweet white corn, Tim wagered he knew what he was talking about. Unfortunately, the clear, cloudless sky and high Kansas sun had Martha worried about the condition of Tim’s skin, and it had taken a bit of finagling to get away with only the hat. Sun block would have been more effective; but not very fair to Conner, as it didn’t taste good, and Conner liked to lick. It was something Tim found a bit unhygienic, however in the heat of the moment it was quite enjoyable.
“What?” Conner asked teasingly, but the gentle way he squeezed Tim’s hand as they walked through the corn tempered his tone. “I'm serious. You’re super-cute.”
“Your sense of humor is seriously lacking when compared to your other senses,” Tim told him gravely. “It’s a weakness that merits exploration.”
“Oh, and you’re a laugh riot,” Conner said, grinning, and hefted up the blanket he was carrying further under his other arm. His hand was warm and comfortable and practically enveloped Tim’s own. Although, Conner’s hand was by no means baby soft, he had no calluses; an odd contrast to Tim’s own lightly scarred fingers.
They walked until Conner stopped at a small clearing between the corn stalks. Tim didn’t know what exactly distinguished it from the ones they had passed along the way. There was just enough room for them to stand and spread the blanket, but that had been the case with the others, and nothing about this one seemed significant or special. The way Conner dropped the blanket and tugged Tim into his arms like there was no tomorrow made Tim think he’d simply run out of patience.
“Finally far away enough now, are we?” Tim drawled.
Conner rolled his eyes and laced Tim’s hands together behind his back. “Oh like you have room to talk, Mr. We Can’t Have Sex On Either Of The Coasts.”
“And you’d like to have Clark overhear us or,” Tim started.
“No, Tim,” Conner sang dully. “I would not like that.” Certain aspects of their relationship proved problematic, namely the fact that neither of them cared for voyeurs, inadvertent or otherwise. Titan’s Tower was only safe if the rest of the team wasn’t around. If they were... Well, it was frankly unfair to Cassie, and Tim and Kon been interrupted by Bart (who was entirely too comfortable with their sex life for Tim’s peace of mind) far too many times. Also it was quite a commute.
Gotham presented quite a few problems as well. While Dick was far more accepting of metahumans than Bruce, and it was technically his show, Bruce did still make his home at the Manor. And while his feelings towards Conner had warmed considerably, they hadn’t warmed to the point where he’d be happy letting Superboy sodomize one of his Robins.
Besides, in addition to busybody interfering vigilantes, Gotham was home to far too many cameras. Comings and goings were noted.
Now, ideally Tim could have left Gotham and met Conner somewhere halfway, but there was an added wrinkle: Clark, and to a lesser extent, Kara. Also possibly Karen Starr but Tim didn’t think she ever listened for Conner’s voice, so there wasn’t the same risk of being overheard. Also, they didn’t really know each other. At least Kara would never tell anyone, although she might never let them forget it.
So, Tim and Conner wound up making semi-convoluted plans, like walking out into the middle of a corn field so they weren’t around Ma Kent (who Clark paid a lot of attention to) and certain Kryptonians didn’t hear things they shouldn’t while they were protecting Metropolis. All of that just so the two of them could have some privacy.
Sometimes it was tough being a teenage superhero.
“I,” Conner said and his voice was like a glass of glacial runoff, aerated just enough to take the edge of cold off after a long hike and refreshing in the extreme. It knocked Tim out of his thoughts and back into the pleasant circle of Conner’s arms. “Was just thinking, of how different this is, from when we first met, and you wouldn’t even take your mask off. And now you’re here, wearing your cute hat.”
“If you keep talking about the hat,” Tim said as he slid his hands down to examine the contours of Conner’s well-constructed buttocks. “I’m going to have to discipline you.”
“Oh yeah?” Conner rumbled, pleased. “Gonna tell me I’m a bad boy?”
“Well,” Tim said as he drew parallel lines down the round firm cheeks with his thumbs, soft denim under his skin. “I was actually thinking of telling Ma Kent you didn’t like her hat.”
There was silence for a moment. Then: “Not cool.”
Tim huffed in amusement at the look of consternation that crossed over Conner’s face.
“You’re such a buzzkill,” groused the larger boy.
“Like I could discourage you, horn dog,” Tim said, looking around and taking in the pastoral nature of his surroundings. “Taking me out into the cornfield so we can have sex in the dirt.”
“You’re such a city boy,” Conner said a little more fondly, stroking the small of Tim’s back. “The corn field has been a destination of unparalleled romance for Kansas teens since time immemorial.”
“You have become such a country bumpkin,” Tim told him and Conner, the light glinting off his glasses. “Still, you are my country bumpkin.”
“Yeah, except we both know I could be your surfer boy and see your city boy to boot,” he said smugly, and tilted his head. Tim automatically angled the other way and let Conner draw him up for a kiss. “Besides, you’ll always first and foremost be my Wonder Boy.”
“Superjerk,” Tim grinned and Conner pulled him so Tim could kiss him deeply.
“Mmm,” Conner hummed after they were done. Tim leaned back as Conner’s hands drifted down to his hips. “My Freaky Bat-brain.”
“My Clone-Boy,” Time teased, his breath hitching. Conner’s face focused on something, maybe Tim’s eyes.
“Robin,” he whispered, and they weren’t joking anymore.
“Kon-El,” Tim said, the syllables barely escaping his lips, and then there was no more room for words. Tim took his time unbuttoning Conner’s shirt as they kissed, slowly revealing the black ‘S’ t-shirt beneath it. He’d never say this, but he got a little thrill every time he did this, like he had his own personal Superman. It wasn’t something he’d tell Conner, because he didn’t ever want Conner to think that what they had was some… fetish thing. But he couldn’t deny that it was intensely arousing, to be the one who unbuttoned the ‘S’.
“Did you hear that?” Conner asked suddenly, and Tim stilled.
“No…” Tim said and Conner shrugged, return his attentions to Tim. As much as Tim would have liked to let Conner continue to lick and kiss his neck, he couldn’t ignore his words. “Conner, stop.”
“Was nothing,” Conner murmured, pulling back to look at Tim; gentle heat in his eyes behind the glasses that kept Conner Kent from Superboy. “The wind.”
“Try looking, first,” Tim said as he started buttoning up Conner’s shirt. Conner sighed and looked around slowly, with great deliberation, casting his gaze about in a wide circle. Tim grew suspicious.
“Nope, don’t see anything,” Kon said when he was finished, and pulled Tim in tight. “Better go back to making out.” Extending one foot Conner tapped the blanket and it unfurled over the dirt.
“Right, and as much as I’d like to,” Tim said, and he really did want nothing more than for Conner to bear him down onto the ground. “You could try not to fake it.”
Conner froze. “Fake it?” he asked, sounding a little scared.
“Oh good lord, Conner,” Tim said, bemused. “Is that phrase a trigger for you?”
“Shut up,” he said sourly. “And get your ass on the ground.”
Tim barked a short sharp laugh and held onto his hat as he toed off his shoes and stepped onto the blanket. “With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?”
Conner would deny it, but he was nearly as paranoid as Tim about the two of them being caught doing anything. If he wasn’t worried then Tim could chalk the noise up to them being outside. Besides, who would have followed them out here already? They hadn’t even started.
Strong arms encircled him, gently turning Tim so that he faced the hollow of Conner’s throat. Conner nuzzled the brim of Tim’s hat up, looking down at him under it.
“Hey,” Kon said in a soft voice, putting his bare toes on top of Tim’s sock covered feet.
“Hey yourself,” Tim said back a little hoarsely. Sometimes the sheer intensity of feeling, the overwhelming sensations of smell and touch from being with Conner, seemed surreal. This close the intimacy was intoxicating, the warmth intermingled with the sweet scent of corn, which was in turn interwoven with the smell of green grass and the earthy musk of the soil. All the growing things surrounded them like threads: shades and strands of greens, whites and yellows against the backdrops of brown and blue.
Conner kissed him, and even though the hat and the glasses made it even more awkward than their costumes ever seemed to, it was perfect. Tim began to unbutton his shirt yet again, as Conner’s hands moved in competing lines up and down Tim’s back, horribly wrinkling his shirt.
“You’re going to look so perfect out here,” Conner whispered against his mouth as he slid Tim’s shirt up and fit one large hand, barely, under Tim’s waist band to slide a finger down the cleft of his ass. Tim shivered, the feeling of Conner’s finger inching toward his hole rising up and down his spine and straight to his penis. “Naked in this cornfield.”
“Just as long as you don’t let me get burned,” Tim gasped as Conner started to slide the hand further down the back of Tim’s pants. For some reason he was having trouble focusing on the next button as he craned his back to give Conner better access.
“Don’t worry,” Conner said, sounding a little distracted. “I’ll keep you in the shade-wait.”
This time they both froze, and Tim was horribly aware of the obscene tableau they must make. Conner’s hand slipped out of his pants and Tim straightened up, his hands still poised on Conner’s shirt.
“What is it?” Tim asked. Conner took off his glasses and squinted. He had the distant look on his face that meant he was listening to something outside of Tim’s range.
“Something’s coming?” Tim frowned. He needed more to go on. They could have only seconds to prepare if it was a threat-
“Oh,” Conner relaxed and looked exasperated and Tim relaxed a little in turn. “Never mind.”
“Conner…” Tim trailed off menacingly.
“No, I mean-oh just-here boy!” Conner called and then whistled at a higher pitch than Tim could hear. Krypto trotted through the corn, albeit at a foot above the ground, looking hesitant, his tail wagging only slightly.
“So this is our guest,” Tim said, relaxing completely. “I have to admit, this is an eventuality I didn’t consider.”
“Yeah, because he’s easy to take care of,” Conner said, dropping his glasses. “Krypto, get out of here!” Krypto looked at him mournfully and didn’t move. Conner’s eyes narrowed. “Krypto, SCAT!”
The hovering dog tucked his tail under his legs and fled into the corn.
“Don’t know what was up with him,” Conner muttered and turned to Tim. “Now where were we?”
“You were skipping all the bases and running straight to home,” Tim said as he opened Conner’s button-down up.
“Sounds like a fantastic idea,” Conner said with a smirk and with a little lift Tim found himself up in the air, his hat tumbling off his head before he was pressed down onto the blanket, Conner covering his body. “It’s been ages.”
“It’s been a week.”
“Yeah,” Conner said, nodding rapidly. “Ages. Now let’s get you out of these clothes.”
Between the tactile telekinesis, super speed, and Conner’s own flair at undressing Tim, it was like being bombarded by hands. For a brief moment Tim knew a wondrous confusion as his buttons undid themselves and his clothing seemed to writhe itself open. Conner leaned back to stare down at Tim, silhouetted by the light of the sky that emphasized the contours of his sizeable frame, before he lowered himself again to press a soft kiss to Tim’s mouth.
The kiss deepened, Conner moaning into Tim’s mouth, but then- noise always came more easily to him when they began. It still took time for Tim to become comfortable, although there was no faster way than being surrounded by the smell and feel of Conner.
For the third time Conner became perfectly still, alert and then he started to growl. He turned his head and Tim followed his gaze to see Krypto, creeping around low, with his head almost perpendicular to the ground and staring at them with massive, soulful eyes.
“Oh my god, this dog,” Conner snapped and dropped his head beside Tim’s.
“I have read,” Tim said slowly, “That some dogs don’t respond to sharing all that well.”
“Yeah?” Conner said and glowered at Krypto who strained to look the picture of innocence as his tail thumped weakly. ‘What?’ The dog seemed to say. ‘Oh you’re looking at me? I was just investigating this stalk of corn. It smells really cool. Like, totally awesome. In fact I think I might have to pee on it, it’s so interesting.’
“I do not know if that’s the case with super-intelligent extra-terrestrial canids,” Tim continued.
“And there’s no chance you’ll keep going with him around,” Conner said glancing at Tim.
“Not a one,” Tim said solemnly.
“You hear that, Krypto?” Conner growled, his eyes flashing. “You’re standing between me and sex. Keep doing so and I might be guilty of extra-terrestrial canine-acide.” Krypto cringed, his tail tucking between his legs.
“Canicide,” Tim corrected quietly and Conner glowered at him. “If you’re gonna do the time for the crime, you may as well do it right.”
Krypto looked positively wretched crouched on the ground, and Tim actually felt kind of bad.
“I don’t care,” Conner said, turning his nose up a little, like a child. “It’s hard enough trying to get your pants off, I don’t need the damn dog making it more difficult.”
“Well as romantic as that is,” Tim said slowly, looking at how repentant Krypto was and doing a little mental math, “what do you think the possibility is he was sent to keep an eye on us?”
There was silence as Conner considered this. Krypto looked hopeful
“Krypto, did Clark put you up to this?” Conner asked. The dog barked once and his tail wagged. “Oh, crap,” Conner groaned, slapping his face and collapsing on top of Tim, who let out of an ‘oof’. “I knew we got away with this too easily.”
“Crap,” Tim echoed as variables began to race through his head. “I really hadn’t factored Krypto into the equation. I’m going to need some time to come up with a new plan.”
“… Or we could just talk to them.”
“You want to talk to Bruce and Clark about our sex life,” Tim said, and Conner winced, which was gratifying but at the same time not nearly enough. The idea was impossible.
“No, I don’t. But then again, we don’t have to.”
“What?” Tim asked with some reluctance.
“Dude, aren’t you an emancipated minor?”
“Yes,” Tim said.
“Well, who’s my guardian? Cuz I’ll tell you this, it’s not Clark.”
“You would rather talk about sex with Ma Kent than Clark,” Tim asked in a deadpan, and Conner shuddered. Which actually felt pretty good, although really dirty, given that Krypto was staring at them, quiet and happily panting in the Kansas sun.
“God no. But, and this important,” Conner said and started to look smug. “He’s got no business in my business and he knows it. And there’s no way in Hell he’s gonna wanna talk to Ma anymore than me.”
“I,” Tim corrected reflexively and was rewarded with a telekinetic pinch on the behind for his trouble. “And that doesn’t solve our present dilemma, jerk.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a dog whisperer,” Conner said, still smirking. “Krypto, hey Boy.”
Krypto leapt to his feet and trotted over to them. Conner sat back on his heels and the sun beat down unimpeded on Tim’s fair skin. He shaded his eyes against the glare as Conner straddled him.
“Hey there, Buddy,” Conner said in a warm voice. “That’s a Good Boy. Now, listen here: Go Home and Stay With Ma. And think about who’s going to play Fetch with you, me or Clark, hm?”
Krypto tilted his head to one side and Tim sighed. He knew that the dog wasn’t an earth canine by any stretch and was vastly more intelligent, but there was no way that-Krypto was leaving.
“Good boy!” Conner called after him, and then looked down at Tim. “Okay, so, no more interruptions?”
“With our luck?” Tim asked, putting his hands on Conner’s unbuckled but unopened pants. “Make the first one quick, and then take our time.”
“Awesome,” Conner said.
It turned out they weren’t interrupted, and nothing else went awry, although Tim did get a bit pink around the edges.
The hat, which at some point wound up underneath them, was left unrecognizable. Conner vowed to get Tim another one. Tim, in turn, vowed to do something unspeakable to Conner with a cob of corn until he relented.