Fic: Miracle in Smallville (Part 3 of 4) by anidawehi & kyrdwyn [Tim/Conner, NC-17 overall]
Title: Miracle in Smallville (Part 3 of 4)
Authors: anidawehi and kyrdwyn
Pairing: Tim Drake/Conner Kent
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU (non-hero)
Summary: A young businessman who has no time for holidays, or love, finds both when trapped in Smallville, Kansas, with a handsome young farmer.
Authors' Notes: Anidawehi was being subjected to Hallmark Christmas Movies. Kyrdwyn said she should write a Tim/Kon story in that fashion in self defense. Anidawehi insisted that Kyrdwyn help her write it. Kyrdwyn was not scared off by this.
Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2
Conner finished fussing with his hair and straightening his tie. He knew he looked fine, the suit wasn't that old, he hadn't outgrown it, but he still wanted to look good for church on Christmas Eve. Especially since Tim was going with them.
Sighing, he stepped out of his bedroom and down the hall to tentatively knock on Tim's door to see if he was ready. The church service was early, at five, to allow for families to go home and have dinner, and get the younger children into bed before Santa came.
"Tim, are you ready?"
Rather than answer, Tim opened the door as he shrugged on his suit jacket, and expertly buttoned it before grabbing his trench coat. Giving Conner a long look, he smiled, "You look great."
Conner's suit was old fashioned, and clearly *nowhere* near as expensive as his own, but Conner filled it out very nicely. Now, more than ever before, he was grateful that he'd taken the advice of a venerable old businessman and started keeping a fresh shirt and tie in his briefcase. Granted, it took up a great deal of room, but it also saved you if you spilled something, or heaven forbid, got stranded in a small town over the holidays.
Conner smiled at Tim, enjoying the sight of Tim in a well fitted suit. Sure, he liked seeing Tim in his old jeans and sweatshirts, but this was a treat. "You look great, too," Conner said. "We'll be the envy of the congregation, if they'll admit to such a thing in church."
Pa and Ma came out of their room, Pa in a suit and Ma in a forest green dress that Conner always liked on her. "Don't you two look handsome?" she asked, smiling at them.
"They certainly do," Pa replied. "You boys riding with us or are you taking your truck, Conner?"
Ma spoke up before Conner could answer, straightening her grandson's lapels needlessly, "Why don't you and Tim take the truck? With the weather the way it is, it would be good to have another vehicle just in case one of us gets stuck. Besides, you boys might want to stay so you can introduce Tim to Bart and the others while we come home to work on supper."
Conner let Ma straighten his tie and lapels with good humor. After all, she still did it to Pa and Dad. Though, he had to admit, the look on Tim's face when she did the same to him was priceless. Shock and maybe a bit of wistfulness, as if his mother never did this for him.
"Sure, Ma. Bart would probably love to meet Tim, anyway."
Ma patted Tim's cheek, then Conner's, then headed down the stairs. "Just don't stay too late," Pa said as he followed her. "Weather's supposed to be clearer, but you never know."
"We won't, Pa," Conner said as he grabbed his coat and he and Tim headed for his truck while Ma and Pa headed for Pa's.
Missing the warmth of the coat Mr. Kent normally lent him, Tim hurried through the snow and slid into the passenger's seat, asking once they got on the road, "Who is Bart?"
"My best friend since before junior high," Conner replied, making sure the heat was turned up as far as he could get it to warm the cab of the truck up. "His family moved here from Keystone not long after I moved here from Metropolis. We banded together as the two new kids and have been friends since. It'll be good to see him again. He's been at college in Central City."
Though Tim was leery of meeting someone else close to Conner, who could theoretically tell Conner what a stupid idea it was to get involved with Tim in the first place, he also liked the idea of meeting someone who had been friends with Conner so long. Nodding he held his hands up to the vent, knowing Conner wouldn't see it as showing weakness the way his mother would, and asked, "What is he studying?"
"Forensic science," Conner said, checking the road before making the turn onto the main street toward town. "His grandfather works for the Keystone Police, and his dad's the Sheriff here, so he wants to follow in their footsteps, somewhat."
Impressed, Tim nodded, "That's a challenging field. And a noble ambition." Smiling a little he added, "You know, this delay is giving me a lot more reasons to recommend Smallville as the site for the new plant."
"It is, but Bart is the smartest kid in our high school graduating class, all honors sciences, so I'm sure he'll make it through without too much trouble," Conner said with a smile. He glanced over at Tim as they passed the outer edge of town on the way to the church. "Oh?"
"Well given the relative intelligence and ambition of all of the people you've talked about here, we would have a great pool of potential employees," Tim answered, finally warmed up enough to sit back in his seat.
"Yeah, we do have a pretty good group of people here, though, to be honest, we do have our slackers and ne'er-do-wells."
"Everywhere does, but there are some places where the majority of the people lack motivation. Those places arguably need the jobs more, but it's a big risk for a business to invest in a new planet in a community where they may not find qualified workers," Tim frowned and shook his head, as he was more inclined to take the risk than his parents were.
Conner glanced over at Tim and winked. "Well, clearly then, all those other sites are slackers and Smallville is the best."
"Somehow I think you're biased," Tim said wryly, reaching over to rest a hand on Conner's knee after a second of hesitation. He didn't want to distract Conner while he was driving on the more dangerous rural roads, but now that they were in town he gave in to the desire to touch Conner. It sounded ridiculously sappy, even in his own mind, but sometimes it felt as if he had to physically assure himself that Conner was real, and this whole thing wasn't some vivid dream as he flew back to Gotham.
Conner kept his eyes on the road, but as they were in town, he reached down with his right hand to cover Tim's, while his left remained on the wheel. "I just might be, but I might also have an ulterior motive."
Smiling, Tim turned his hand over to hold onto Conner's, "I believe we've covered how I approve of ulterior motives."
Conner squeezed Tim's hand, smiling back. "True. But I figure if you build the plant here, I might get to see you every once in a while." He glanced over at Tim before turning onto the road the church was on. Traffic slowed them down somewhat as he looked for a parking spot, but he didn't take his hand from Tim's until he had to back into a space near the back of the church.
Tim held his peace about that, because he honestly didn't know if he would be coming back to Smallville. He supposed he could visit a couple of times a year, if he risked pushing his parents, but it seemed a cruel idea, to string Conner along that way. It wasn't as if *Tim* had any chance at a real relationship, but it was entirely possible that Conner could find someone.
Setting aside the issue for now, Tim unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out of the truck, joining Conner as they headed inside, "Is there any particular protocol I need to know about for this service?"
Conner took two of the service bulletins and handed one to Tim. "We're fairly laid back here. Just follow me for when to sit, stand, and sing, and most of the responses are either in the bulletin or in the hymnal. We can share," he said as they moved into the pew that the Kents usually sat in. Ma and Pa were already there, talking to Mayor Young and his wife. Fortunately, Conner thought, Melanie Allen, Bart's mom and the music director of the church, started playing the prelude then, so there wouldn't be a lot of small talk before the service started.
Keenly aware of the glances he was getting, and feeling rather more self-conscious than he was used to, Tim followed Conner, giving the Mayor a nod in greeting, and spent the rest of the service trying not to make a fool of himself, or offend anyone inadvertently.
During the sermon, Conner slipped his hand into Tim's, squeezing in reassurance that Tim was doing fine. Church in Smallville wasn't terrible formal, and Tim was taking his cues from Conner, and Ma and Pa.
Tim barely managed to catch himself from giving Conner a surprised look, he didn't expect Conner to do anything so obvious where anyone from town could see them, much less in the church, but he figured that Conner knew the congregation better than he did, so he didn't comment. Instead he squeezed back and deliberately relaxed, reassured when the songs primarily turned out to be traditional Christmas songs he'd learned through osmosis over the years.
At the end of the service, Conner and Tim stood with the rest of the congregation, waiting until Pastor Willis and the choir had left the sanctuary before the socializing began. Ma intercepted the Mayor while Conner urged Tim over to meet Bart.
"Conner!" Bart exclaimed, hugging Conner tightly. "It's been too long. How are you? How's your family?" When he caught sight of Tim, Bart smiled at him. "Who's your friend?"
Tim assumed this was Bart, and held out his hand, "Tim Drake, I'm just visiting Smallville for business actually, I've been snowed in and the Kents were kind enough to give me a place to say until the weather clears."
Bart shook Tim's hand, still smiling. "Hi Tim! Aren't the Kents great! They've let me stay for Christmas before when Mom and Dad had to go back to Keystone abruptly."
Bart's enthusiasm made him seem too young to be a college student, and Tim gave Conner an amused look as he nodded, "They are. The plan was for me to stay in the church, before Mrs. Kent decided to co-opt me, so I'm glad she did. Needless to say the food is better at the Kent house."
"Oh, man, Mrs. Kent's food is amazing! I dreamed about it at the dorms this year!"
Conner chuckled. "You should come over for lunch before you go back," he said. "I'm sure Ma and Pa would love to see you again."
Bart grinned. "Awesome!"
It was easy to see why Conner and Bart were friends, and feeling rather like the third wheel to their reunion, Tim glanced around for the source of the hot cider he saw a people carrying, "I think I'll get some of that cider, do you gentlemen want some?"
"Sure," Conner said, smiling at Tim. "Thanks." He knew he and Bart could be a bit much, and since they hadn't seen each other in a long time, Tim probably was feeling a bit left out.
Nodding, Tim went to fetch cider, meeting Mr and Mrs. Kent on his way back. After a quick discussion with them, he stopped to give Conner his cider, "Your grandparents are heading back to the farm to start dinner, I'm going to walk them out."
He left unspoken the fact that he was doing it to give Conner more time to catch up with Bart, though it wasn't hard to guess, since he hated the cold.
"Tell them hi for me?" Bart asked as Conner gave Tim a warm smile of thanks and apology.
"I'll be right out," he told Tim.
"Of course," Tim assured Bart, giving Conner a nod and heading over to join the Kents.
A few minutes later a worried voice came from near Conner's elbow, "Conner? Have you seen that guy from Gotham?"
Conner turned to see Greta Hayes standing next to him, looking around the area. "Tim? He was walking my grandparents to their truck last I knew. Why? You want an introduction?" Conner asked with a smile. Greta liked talking to people about traveling to other states and countries, if they had, and Conner was pretty sure Tim had been to a lot of states, if not at least one other country.
Looking distressed, she shook her head, "I just overheard Rose talking to her brother and his friends. She told them the guy from Gotham tried to... They looked really pissed. I think they were going to go look for him."
Conner clenched the cup in his hands, crushing it. Bart looked angry as well. "We need to find your friend," Bart said.
"Yeah," Conner replied, heading for the front door of the church. "Before Rose and her cronies do." He stopped on the bottom steps of the church outside, looking around for Tim or a sign of a disturbance.
As quiet as it was outside, with the snow muffling the noise of the rest of the town, it didn't take long to hear a sharp cry of pain and the sound of an impact around the back of the church where the Kents had parked. By the time Conner, Bart, and Greta had run around the church to the parking lot, Grant Wilson and two of his friends were on the ground and the last was swinging a fist at Tim. Stepping aside lightly, Tim grabbed the man's arm as it went by, and with a pivot and twist that looked more like a dance move than anything dangerous, Tim flipped his attacker neatly. Another meaty thud echoed through the parking lot as the man landed heavily on his back, and he barely had time to cry out before Tim's foot was resting on his chest, "For the last time, I did *not* assault Ms. Wilson, I don't care what she told you."
"Tim, you all right?" Conner called, approaching the group. He glared at Grant Wilson where he lay on the ground.
"What's going on here?" Bart's dad asked as he came around the back of the church, apparently alerted by the noises.
"I'm fine," Tim answered stepping back and brushing snow off of his coat in a fastidious gesture that seemed remarkably at odds with the four guys he'd just put down, "Everything's fine, there was just a... misunderstanding. I'm sure it won't happen again."
Rose came around the church corner then, looking at the scene on the ground, then running to her brother. "What happened?" she asked, glaring at Tim and Conner.
"You told your brother Mr. Drake assaulted you, so he and his friends came to beat up on Mr. Drake," Greta said. "Mr. Drake merely defended himself."
The sheriff looked between the two groups, then looked at Rose. "Rose?" he asked. "Do I need to start filing incident reports for tonight and for the alleged assault?"
Rose glared at Greta, then at Conner and Tim again. Conner glared back. "Considering Mr. Drake has been with my grandparents and I, or with the Mayor, since arriving in Smallville, I somehow doubt any case would stick," he said softly.
Rose looked away. "No, sheriff, we don't need to file reports, either for tonight or any other time."
Keeping his expression and posture completely neutral outwardly, inside Tim was both embarrassed and furious that Rose would make accusations like that. There was no doubt about it, she wanted Conner back and she saw him as a threat to that. The irony was that Tim was leaving and wouldn't be a threat much longer, but she'd completely alienated Conner with this stunt.
When the sheriff asked Tim if HE needed to file a report, Tim shook his head, "No harm was done..." Then he glanced down at the guys who were still laying on the ground and added, "To me."
The sheriff nodded. "Then I'll consider this matter closed, unless something further happens," he said. He ruffled his son's hair and left the area, leaving the younger adults looking at each other.
Conner glared at Rose. "You could have cost Smallville it's chance to get that plant with this stunt," he practically hissed. "You definitely cost yourself any shot at staying even friends with me," he added, going over to Tim and looking him over visually.
"C'mon," he said to Tim. "I'm sure Ma has supper waiting."
Tim, unlike Grant and his friends, looked perfectly fine, though his eyes showed his annoyance, and he shook Bart's hand politely, "It was a pleasure meeting you."
Cold and none-too-pleased, Tim got into the truck as soon as courtesy allowed, and used the brief time it took Conner to say goodbye to Bart to calm himself. By the time Conner joined him and started the car, he was finding the situation more humorous than infuriating and assured Conner, "I'm not going to hold Rose's actions against Smallville, my parents won't even hear about it."
"I know you won't," Conner said as he started the truck and put it into gear, "but she doesn't, and she should have thought of that. If you weren't whatever type of ninja you were back there, and they *had* hurt you, I'm sure it would have reflected badly on the town. Not to mention, *you* would have been hurt, and that pisses me off."
"Judo. I started taking it when I was five after a kidnapping attempt," Tim answered casually, tilting his head to concede Conner's point and putting a hand on his knee reassuringly, "I'm fine, only one punch connected and I doubt it will even bruise. And yes, it would have reflected badly on Smallville but my parents are businesspeople, they would have just taken crime rates in the prospective sites into consideration and made an informed decision on that basis. It would be entirely possible that it wouldn't damage Smallville's chances at all."
Conner raised an eyebrow at the kidnapping attempt, but didn't remark on it, instead dropping his hand from the steering wheel to cover Tim's. "Still doesn't change the fact that she was trying to have you seriously hurt just because she can't cope with a break up. And spreading those kinds of lies?" Conner shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder what I saw in her."
"People change, and sometimes we only see what we want to see in them," Tim answered, thinking of his own ex and how wrong it had gone at the end.
Conner's hand tightened on Tim's as he inwardly hoped he wasn't seeing things in Tim that weren't really there. As they got closer to the farm, he forced himself to relax. "I don't see a reason to mention this to Ma and Pa tonight, do you? I mean, I'm sure they'll hear about it, Smallville's grapevine being what it is, but....."
"I'd rather not bother them with it," Tim agreed, squeezing Conner's hand back, "Nothing important happened, and it's Christmas Eve, I don't want to worry them over nothing."
Giving Tim a small smile, Conner drove the rest of the way in silence. As he parked the truck, he grabbed Tim's hand again, preventing Tim from getting out. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, looking at Tim, leaning in a bit. "I never wanted you to get hurt because of me," he added before kissing Tim lightly.
"I'm fine. The four of them could barely keep their footing on the ice, much less actually do any damage," Tim tugged him into a longer kiss to emphasize his well-being and added when he sat back a little, "I didn't get hurt, stop worrying."
Chuckling ruefully when the kiss ended, Conner nodded. "All right, I will. But we should probably get into the house. Ma was being all secretive about dinner tonight, and I don't want to keep her waiting."
Unbuckling his belt, Tim opened the door and slid out, "I would ask if I should be worried, but I don't think your grandmother is capable of cooking something unpalatable."
Conner shut the door to his side of the truck and locked it. "Pa says there was a time she cooked something like tuna sherry and it was just plain bad. One of the few times they ended up going out to dinner when it wasn't planned. But that was before Dad was born." Conner came around the truck and took Tim's hand as they walked to the house. "Ma has never tried that recipe again to this day."
"I've never even *heard* of tuna sherry," Tim admitted, amused. When Conner took his hand, he smiled, shifting so their arms brushed as they walked. It was a simple kind of intimacy, but it was remarkably satisfying for all its innocence.
"Ma still has the recipe book, but I've never been brave enough to try it," Conner admitted as he opened the door. Krypto pounced on him and barked and licked his face before moving onto Tim, who had followed Conner in. "Krypto, off," Conner said. The dog obeying, sitting on the floor and watching both of them happily as they hung up their coats on the rack. Conner took an appreciative sniff of the air. "Whatever Ma is cooking smells good," he said.
Fending the dog off, Tim nodded in agreement, "Even more so than usual, which I would have thought was impossible."
Krypto gave one last lick to Tim's hand before bounding off to the kitchen. Conner smiled and gestured to the doorway. "After you," he said, with a grin.
Tim headed into the kitchen and paused in the doorway when he saw the shepherd's pie Martha was setting down on the table. Smiling wistfully, Tim continued into the kitchen, automatically picking up the basket of rolls to take to the table, "That looks amazing Mrs. Kent."
"Call me Ma, Tim, you're practically family now," Ma told him, and smiled gently at the uncertainty and longing in his eyes.
Heading for the counter for three mugs of coffee, and his own glass of milk, Conner smiled at Tim encouragingly. "It does look great, Ma."
He had no idea what to say, so he gave Martha and Conner a wan smile in return and helped bring the rest of the stuff to the table. When everyone was sitting and served, and grace had been said, he looked down at his plate, dozens of memories rising at the smell of the seasoned beef and potatoes, "My parents' housekeeper used to make this for me whenever my parents traveled."
Smiling he shook his head in fond amusement, "I must have eaten more shepherd's pie before the age of four than most people do in their entire lives."
Taking a bite, Conner frowned internally. "Sounds like your parents traveled a lot?" he asked carefully. Ma gave him a sharp look, and he shrugged.
Shrugging easily, Tim swallowed the bite he'd taken, "They run an international business and my mother was an active archaeologist for most of my childhood, their work necessitated that they spend the majority of their time away from Gotham. Besides, they enjoy traveling, they rarely spend their free time at home."
"Archaeologist? I'm sure she's been to some interesting places," Pa said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Any stories worth a Spielberg movie?" he asked with a smile as he went back to his dinner. Conner looked over at Tim as he ate, interested in hearing the answer.
"It's usually less 'Indiana Jones' than it is research and very careful digging," Tim said wryly, then paused and said with a small frown, "There was an incident in Haiti when I was fourteen... A local voodoo practitioner took exception to my mother's dig site and kidnapped them. He very nearly poisoned them, but by chance a police officer overheard some of his followers discussing it and the police arrived just in time."
Looking up he gave them a small, apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, that isn't a very festive topic is it?"
Ma reached over to run a comforting hand down Tim's arm. "Perhaps not, but I'm glad your parents were all right."
Pa and Conner nodded in agreement before Pa asked Conner what he thought about the Metropolis football team's chance of winning the Superbowl. Ma rolled her eyes and looked at Tim. "We've lost them for the rest of the meal," she said. "They'll dissect all thirty-two teams now, even those that are so far out of winning the championship it's not worth talking about."
Smiling and shaking his head, Tim assured her, "It's alright, my friends do that when they get started on fashion. I don't have anything to say about that either."
"Hopefully your friends have better fashion sense than what I see on those so-called fashion shows. I think Pa could design better clothing than that for women, and I swear he's colorblind."
"Between Bernard and Tam, I rarely get to pick out my own clothes, so you can judge for yourself," Tim answered wryly.
Ma had to chuckle at that. "Well, then, I think they do have a wonderful sense of fashion, to make you look so handsome."
Blushing a little, not because he hadn't heard it before, but because it was coming from someone he respected and knew was being honest, Tim assured her, "I'll be sure to let them know you think so."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate hearing it," Ma replied. "How is your supper? I hope I'm at least half as good a cook at this as your family's housekeeper."
"Actually... I hope Mrs. Mac never hears it, but this is actually better than her shepherd's pie," Tim admitted, which was true, though a part of him would always prefer the housekeeper's just out of sentimentality.
Conner glanced over from his discussion with Pa to see Ma blush a little at that. He gave Tim a small smile, pleased that he and Ma were getting along.
"Thank you, dear, and I promise not to tell her," Ma said.
The rest of the dinner was uneventful, and Conner and Tim helped clean up the table. There was no dessert tonight, though Conner knew there was apple pie for tomorrow. They gathered in the living room with the tree, and Pa started a fire in the fireplace while Ma brought out the stockings. Three were personalized for Pa, Ma, and Conner, but Ma also brought out the extra stocking for guests, white with blue snowflakes that gleamed with metallic thread. She handed that one to Tim to hang on the mantle.
It was nice that they were including him, Tim thought, running his fingers over a snowflake before he hung it where he was told. It was a gesture so typical of the Kents that he felt a physical pain at the thought of leaving. Still, he had to, and when the little ceremony of hanging the stockings was done he said reluctantly, "I have to fly out on the 27th. I have to be at a meeting to discuss the new plant on the 28th."
Conner's chest hurt when Tim mentioned he was leaving in three days. He wanted Tim to stay, though he'd known since the start that Tim wasn't staying. He had a life back in Gotham that Conner wasn't a part of. "We'll be sorry to see you go," he finally said, unable to say what he wanted to in front of Ma and Pa.
Meeting Conner's eyes, Tim said honestly, "I'll be sorry to be going."
Exchanging a glance with Pa, Ma hugged Tim warmly, patting his back in a soothing gesture, "Well we still have you for a little while. We'll just have to make the most of it. Which means getting up early tomorrow morning for Christmas, so Pa and I are going to retire early. You boys don't forget to close off the fireplace before you go to bed."
Pa clapped Tim on the shoulder, then ruffled Conner's hair. "Goodnight, boys. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Pa, Ma," Conner said as he hugged Ma after she hugged Tim. Once his grandparents were upstairs, Conner turned to Tim. "Did you want to go to bed early too?" he asked, hoping the answer was no.
Shaking his head, Tim slid his arms around Conner's waist, "I hadn't planned on it."
Smiling, Conner pulled Tim tight against him. "Good, 'cause I hadn't either," he said before leaning in to kiss Tim.
Tim responded without hesitation, painfully aware of how little time they had and desperate not to waste it. The urgency he was feeling was evident in his kiss and the way he pressed to Conner's chest.
Sliding one hand up into Tim's hair, Conner deepened the kiss, practically devouring Tim's mouth, wanting more, not wanting to let go.
Clearly Tim didn't either, his hands sliding under Conner's suit jacket to fist in his shirt as if contact with Conner was the only thing keeping him alive. At the moment he almost felt like it was, the prospect of returning to Gotham suddenly a jail sentence rather than a release back to his life.
Breaking off the kiss to breathe, Conner nuzzled at Tim's cheek and jaw, pressing tiny kisses to each as he moved up to lightly tug at Tim's ear lobe with his teeth. "Tim," he murmured.
The husky tone to Conner's voice had as much to do with Tim's shudder of anticipation as the love bite, and Tim pressed even closer for a second before shifting back again and deftly unbuttoning Conner's jacket to slide it off, "As good as you look in a suit, I think I prefer you in flannel and jeans."
Conner let go of Tim long enough to help him get his jacket off before he was returning the favor with Tim's jacket. "I like the way you were that first morning," he said with a small smile. "All that skin..."
"You were showing quite a bit more," Tim reminded him, smiling, "I don't think I've ever woken up that completely, that quickly, in my life."
Starting in on Tim's shirt after the jacket was off, Conner chuckled, leaning in to lick at Tim's pulse point. "I don't think I have either, but it was a great wake up call. You felt so good in my arms."
There was the potential that the elder Kents would come downstairs again for some reason, but Tim had gotten the distinct impression that they were deliberately giving he and Conner time alone, so he didn't protest. Pulling his tie off himself, he let the shirt slide off his arms and tossed it to the couch so it wouldn't wrinkle too badly, and pulled Conner in for a more leisurely kiss before answering, "I could have stayed like that all day."
"Me too," Conner said against Tim's lips. He let his hands drift down Tim's chest, stroking the smooth skin, fingers skirting the edge of Tim's waistband. "I've never wanted someone like this before," he whispered.
The teasing brush of Conner's fingers made Tim shiver, and he admitted honestly, a touch of fear and regret in his voice, "Neither have I."
Not giving either of them time to think about the possibility of never feeling that way about anyone else again, and having to give it up this time, Tim kissed Conner, brief and hard, before sliding off his tie and starting to unbutton his shirt.
Conner closed his eyes at the kiss and shivered as Tim removed Conner's shirt. After a few minutes of Tim's hands on his bare chest, Conner slid his hands to Tim's back and pulled him in closer so he could feel more of Tim as they kissed, honestly not wanting to let Tim go.
It was strange how being this close to Conner *didn't* make Tim want to shy away, he wasn't used to casual physical contact, and was even less used to anything this intimate, but Conner had been the exception to the rule from the moment they'd met. So Tim didn't pull away, he leaned harder, and continued to undress Conner, even while they kissed.
This wasn't him, he went *months* without going so far, usually, but there was so little time and he desperately wanted the memory of at least one night with Conner before he went back to his cold, lonely life in Gotham.
Conner couldn't recall *needing* the feel of anyone like he did Tim. Not any of his previous lovers, and there were less than a handful of those, nor anyone he'd dated. Maybe it was the lack of time for them, maybe it was just Tim himself, but the more they kissed and touched, the more Conner wanted. He might never have another night with Tim, and that just made these moments all the more precious to him. He slid his hands to the fastening of Tim's slacks and pulled away from the kiss to murmur, "May I?"
Laughing softly, Tim looked up at him with a light in his eyes that his friends would have been shocked, and delighted, to see, "I have to give it to Smallville, you are all so polite. Yes, you may, in fact I encourage it."
The light in Tim's eyes took Conner's breath, and he had to swallow before he could respond. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't being too pushy," Conner said. "I don't want to scare you off." He started opening Tim's slacks, fingers dipping under the waistband of Tim's underwear to find more smooth, warm skin.
"You won't," Tim assured him, the words coming out rougher than his usual even tones, and he couldn't help the arch and flex of his body that encouraged Conner's exploration. He wanted to take time, but that wasn't a luxury they had so he made the offer of himself clear in the way he responded to Conner's touch, and his own hands on Conner's skin.
"Good," Conner whispered, pushing at Tim's slacks and underwear, easing them over Tim's erection until they were pooling on the floor around Tim's feet. Conner's own erection throbbed in want as he took in the sight of Tim, gilded by firelight, standing there, wanting Conner.
Conner's frank gaze made Tim shift a little in self-consciousness, knowing that despite his hard earned muscles he looked more delicate than he would like, particularly in comparison to Conner's sheer size. Then he met Conner's eyes and stopped caring about anything but being with him.
Stepping out of his clothes and into Conner's arms, he made a soft, desperately pleased noise as their bodies slid together, perfect and yet still not quite enough.
Running his hands over Tim's back, Conner sighed. "I need... I mean..." He swallowed. "I don't know how far you want to take this, but the condoms are upstairs," he finally said, not looking at Tim.
Somehow Conner's shyness alleviated Tim's own, and he smiled before nudging Conner's face back to him for a brief kiss, "Don't take too long."
Conner kissed the tip of Tim's nose and hurried up to his room, thankful he remembered this while still wearing his pants. The lights were off in Ma and Pa's room as he glanced at it before going into his. He grabbed the condoms and the lube out of his nightstand and hurried back down to Tim. The thought of Tim waiting for him, for this, made Conner smile and he knew he probably looked goofy as he entered the living room.
Tim had obviously taken the time to pick up their discarded clothes and fold them neatly, more out of something to occupy himself than out of concern for their clothes, though he DID need to make sure his suit was in wearable condition. When Conner returned, grinning, Tim couldn't help but smile back, shaking his head in warm affection.
By the time Conner joined him in front of the fireplace, the amusement had given way to a thrill of anticipation and Tim slid his hands up Conner's arms to the back of his neck to pull him down for a lingering kiss. There were a hundred things they could say right now, but Tim couldn't think of one that wouldn't be said better with their bodies than with words.
Conner went into the kissing more than willingly, pulling Tim close. He took one of Tim's hands in his own and gently urged it down to the waistband of his suit pants, wanting Tim to see everything, wanting to be skin to skin with Tim, nothing between them, not even the air they were breathing.
Not hesitating to take the implied suggestion, Tim shifted back just enough to undress Conner the rest of the way, though he did have to move back further so Conner could step out of his pants. Taking the opportunity to take in the entire picture Conner presented, Tim had to consciously breathe in, then lifted his eyes to Conner's, his desire and awe at being given this chance clear.
Meeting Tim's eyes, Conner couldn't help but raise a hand and cup Tim's cheek. Tim looked like a kid giving a present he wasn't quite sure was his, and Conner wanted him to know this was all for him. He leaned in and kissed Tim tenderly, then more aggressively, pulling him against Conner, naked skin to naked skin, gasping softly. "I want you," he muttered into the kiss,
Tim didn't even try to stop the soft noise of pleasure and whole-hearted agreement Conner's touch and words prompted, and while he didn't bother to string together the words to indicate that he was more than willing to be had, the deliberate shift of his hips made the sentiment clear.
Without breaking the silence between them, Conner and Tim managed, through gestures and more soft kisses, to stretch out on the floor, Tim resting on top of Conner. They exchanged more kisses as Conner's hands slid lower, his fingertips disappearing into the seam of Tim's buttocks.
It had been a long time, but Tim had absolutely no fear that Conner would hurt him, and shifted to straddle Conner's hips, both to encourage Conner, and to make it easier. It was strange how the process was both hazy with overwhelming sensations, and crystal clear with his intense focus, but above even the physical sensations was the warm swell of how gentle and almost reverent Conner was with him. Tim had *never* felt so treasured, and as much as he wanted to linger and memorize, the novel sensation increased his urgency until he was trembling from it.
Slowly, carefully, Conner prepared Tim, wanting this to be good, to be pleasurable instead of painful. It had been a while for Conner at least, and he didn't know how long for Tim. So he takes his time, until Tim trembling and making short, needy sounds that send jolts of need through Conner's body. Pulling his fingers out, Conner reaches for the condom. Getting it out of the package and onto him is not easy, he's shaking that much, but finally he does. He slicks himself up with lube and then lets himself look into Tim's eyes as he positions himself near Tim's entrance, leaving Tim on top. "Ready?"
Not trusting his voice, Tim nodded, bracing himself and shifting back. His eyes closed tightly and he gasped for breath, overwhelmed in the best of ways at the heat and slide of Conner inside him. It took a moment before he could gather himself enough to move, and it seemed almost immediately that they'd established a smooth, satisfying rhythm.
Conner bit his lip as Tim sank onto him, the heat and pressure around him almost too much. He forced himself to wait, to not thrust until Tim moved, and then it was perfect, moving in sync, building Conner's need up higher. He slid one hand from Tim's hip around to Tim's erection, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking in counterpoint to his thrusts, looking up at Tim, memorizing how he looked in the throes of passion.
A low noise of pleasure escaped Tim at that, though he unconsciously kept it quiet, and despite his struggle to postpone the inevitable, desperately wanting to stay in the moment, one look down at Conner's enthralled expression pushed him over the edge he'd been hovering on.
Groaning at the feel of Tim coming, Conner threw his head back and gasped as he thrust a few more times and then was pushed over the edge himself, his groans containing something that might have been Tim's name, but he was too lost in the sensations to be sure.
When Tim regained conscious thought, he was laying across Conner's chest, breathing heavily and absolutely convinced that not even the world ending could entice him to move. There was a kind of lingering, primal pleasure in feeling Conner's panting breath beneath him, and hearing the strong, fast thump of his heart, and as relaxed as he felt, it took him a long time to summon up the motivation to speak, and when he did, all he said was, "Thank you."
He knew, dimly, that it was an awkward sort of thing to say, but at the moment he wasn't coherent enough to verbally express how grateful he was that Conner had been so generous and tender, and that Conner had been willing to share this with him at all.
Finally regaining enough energy to move an arm, Conner brought one up to stroke lightly up and down Tim's back. "Thank you," he said in response. Tim had been incredibly responsive, and beautiful, and generous. Conner leaned his head up just enough to nuzzle at Tim's hair, not wanting to let Tim go, either tonight or later. But he pushed that thought out of his mind and just enjoyed having a naked and satisfied Tim in his arms.
Relieved that Conner understood what he'd been trying to say, or at least wasn't confused by it, Tim smiled in sleepy pleasure and turned his head just enough to kiss Conner's chest, observing after a moment, "We should go upstairs, while we're still awake." He didn't so much as twitch to accomplish this though.
"Mmm," Conner agreed, not moving. He kept stroking Tim's back, watching the lights and shadows of the fire dancing on Tim's skin.
Tim lingered there, warm with Conner's body heat and the slowly dying fire, but after he had nodded off and woken up again a moment later, he forced himself to shift, "We really do have to move. As much as I hate to, I would hate your grandparents finding us here on Christmas morning even more."
Blushing, Conner nodded. "Way too much embarrassment for a few life times right there." He nuzzled at Tim again. "You could stay in my room," he offered softly. "Once we've cleaned up down here."
Lifting his head to look at Conner, Tim smiled, one of his tiny, genuine smiles, "That's enough of a consolation to get me to move now."
Conner chuckled and kissed Tim's nose before moving so they could both get up. Tim went into the kitchen to grab them a damp dishcloth so they could clean up a bit before putting their underwear back on. Conner banked the fire so it would go out over night, then picked up his clothing. "Ready to go upstairs?"
Gathering his own clothes, feeling wonderfully loose and just sore enough to be a reminder, Tim yawned politely behind his hand and the slid it into Conner's, squeezing as they headed upstairs.
Don't get used to this, Conner told himself as they headed into his room, still holding hands. Inside, Conner hung up his suit and put his laundry in the basket, handing Tim a hander for his suit. He turned back the sheets and blankets on his bed and slid under the covers, moving over and holding them up in clear invitation to Tim.
Curiosity had him glancing around Conner's room, but Tim was too tired to satisfy it tonight, particularly with such a welcome invitation open to him. Sliding in next to Conner, Tim settled against his side with a contented sigh, pushing aside the part of him that wanted to tell him this was a bad idea, that it would hurt more later. He had it now, and he was determined to enjoy it.
Part Four
Authors: anidawehi and kyrdwyn
Pairing: Tim Drake/Conner Kent
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU (non-hero)
Summary: A young businessman who has no time for holidays, or love, finds both when trapped in Smallville, Kansas, with a handsome young farmer.
Authors' Notes: Anidawehi was being subjected to Hallmark Christmas Movies. Kyrdwyn said she should write a Tim/Kon story in that fashion in self defense. Anidawehi insisted that Kyrdwyn help her write it. Kyrdwyn was not scared off by this.
Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2
Conner finished fussing with his hair and straightening his tie. He knew he looked fine, the suit wasn't that old, he hadn't outgrown it, but he still wanted to look good for church on Christmas Eve. Especially since Tim was going with them.
Sighing, he stepped out of his bedroom and down the hall to tentatively knock on Tim's door to see if he was ready. The church service was early, at five, to allow for families to go home and have dinner, and get the younger children into bed before Santa came.
"Tim, are you ready?"
Rather than answer, Tim opened the door as he shrugged on his suit jacket, and expertly buttoned it before grabbing his trench coat. Giving Conner a long look, he smiled, "You look great."
Conner's suit was old fashioned, and clearly *nowhere* near as expensive as his own, but Conner filled it out very nicely. Now, more than ever before, he was grateful that he'd taken the advice of a venerable old businessman and started keeping a fresh shirt and tie in his briefcase. Granted, it took up a great deal of room, but it also saved you if you spilled something, or heaven forbid, got stranded in a small town over the holidays.
Conner smiled at Tim, enjoying the sight of Tim in a well fitted suit. Sure, he liked seeing Tim in his old jeans and sweatshirts, but this was a treat. "You look great, too," Conner said. "We'll be the envy of the congregation, if they'll admit to such a thing in church."
Pa and Ma came out of their room, Pa in a suit and Ma in a forest green dress that Conner always liked on her. "Don't you two look handsome?" she asked, smiling at them.
"They certainly do," Pa replied. "You boys riding with us or are you taking your truck, Conner?"
Ma spoke up before Conner could answer, straightening her grandson's lapels needlessly, "Why don't you and Tim take the truck? With the weather the way it is, it would be good to have another vehicle just in case one of us gets stuck. Besides, you boys might want to stay so you can introduce Tim to Bart and the others while we come home to work on supper."
Conner let Ma straighten his tie and lapels with good humor. After all, she still did it to Pa and Dad. Though, he had to admit, the look on Tim's face when she did the same to him was priceless. Shock and maybe a bit of wistfulness, as if his mother never did this for him.
"Sure, Ma. Bart would probably love to meet Tim, anyway."
Ma patted Tim's cheek, then Conner's, then headed down the stairs. "Just don't stay too late," Pa said as he followed her. "Weather's supposed to be clearer, but you never know."
"We won't, Pa," Conner said as he grabbed his coat and he and Tim headed for his truck while Ma and Pa headed for Pa's.
Missing the warmth of the coat Mr. Kent normally lent him, Tim hurried through the snow and slid into the passenger's seat, asking once they got on the road, "Who is Bart?"
"My best friend since before junior high," Conner replied, making sure the heat was turned up as far as he could get it to warm the cab of the truck up. "His family moved here from Keystone not long after I moved here from Metropolis. We banded together as the two new kids and have been friends since. It'll be good to see him again. He's been at college in Central City."
Though Tim was leery of meeting someone else close to Conner, who could theoretically tell Conner what a stupid idea it was to get involved with Tim in the first place, he also liked the idea of meeting someone who had been friends with Conner so long. Nodding he held his hands up to the vent, knowing Conner wouldn't see it as showing weakness the way his mother would, and asked, "What is he studying?"
"Forensic science," Conner said, checking the road before making the turn onto the main street toward town. "His grandfather works for the Keystone Police, and his dad's the Sheriff here, so he wants to follow in their footsteps, somewhat."
Impressed, Tim nodded, "That's a challenging field. And a noble ambition." Smiling a little he added, "You know, this delay is giving me a lot more reasons to recommend Smallville as the site for the new plant."
"It is, but Bart is the smartest kid in our high school graduating class, all honors sciences, so I'm sure he'll make it through without too much trouble," Conner said with a smile. He glanced over at Tim as they passed the outer edge of town on the way to the church. "Oh?"
"Well given the relative intelligence and ambition of all of the people you've talked about here, we would have a great pool of potential employees," Tim answered, finally warmed up enough to sit back in his seat.
"Yeah, we do have a pretty good group of people here, though, to be honest, we do have our slackers and ne'er-do-wells."
"Everywhere does, but there are some places where the majority of the people lack motivation. Those places arguably need the jobs more, but it's a big risk for a business to invest in a new planet in a community where they may not find qualified workers," Tim frowned and shook his head, as he was more inclined to take the risk than his parents were.
Conner glanced over at Tim and winked. "Well, clearly then, all those other sites are slackers and Smallville is the best."
"Somehow I think you're biased," Tim said wryly, reaching over to rest a hand on Conner's knee after a second of hesitation. He didn't want to distract Conner while he was driving on the more dangerous rural roads, but now that they were in town he gave in to the desire to touch Conner. It sounded ridiculously sappy, even in his own mind, but sometimes it felt as if he had to physically assure himself that Conner was real, and this whole thing wasn't some vivid dream as he flew back to Gotham.
Conner kept his eyes on the road, but as they were in town, he reached down with his right hand to cover Tim's, while his left remained on the wheel. "I just might be, but I might also have an ulterior motive."
Smiling, Tim turned his hand over to hold onto Conner's, "I believe we've covered how I approve of ulterior motives."
Conner squeezed Tim's hand, smiling back. "True. But I figure if you build the plant here, I might get to see you every once in a while." He glanced over at Tim before turning onto the road the church was on. Traffic slowed them down somewhat as he looked for a parking spot, but he didn't take his hand from Tim's until he had to back into a space near the back of the church.
Tim held his peace about that, because he honestly didn't know if he would be coming back to Smallville. He supposed he could visit a couple of times a year, if he risked pushing his parents, but it seemed a cruel idea, to string Conner along that way. It wasn't as if *Tim* had any chance at a real relationship, but it was entirely possible that Conner could find someone.
Setting aside the issue for now, Tim unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out of the truck, joining Conner as they headed inside, "Is there any particular protocol I need to know about for this service?"
Conner took two of the service bulletins and handed one to Tim. "We're fairly laid back here. Just follow me for when to sit, stand, and sing, and most of the responses are either in the bulletin or in the hymnal. We can share," he said as they moved into the pew that the Kents usually sat in. Ma and Pa were already there, talking to Mayor Young and his wife. Fortunately, Conner thought, Melanie Allen, Bart's mom and the music director of the church, started playing the prelude then, so there wouldn't be a lot of small talk before the service started.
Keenly aware of the glances he was getting, and feeling rather more self-conscious than he was used to, Tim followed Conner, giving the Mayor a nod in greeting, and spent the rest of the service trying not to make a fool of himself, or offend anyone inadvertently.
During the sermon, Conner slipped his hand into Tim's, squeezing in reassurance that Tim was doing fine. Church in Smallville wasn't terrible formal, and Tim was taking his cues from Conner, and Ma and Pa.
Tim barely managed to catch himself from giving Conner a surprised look, he didn't expect Conner to do anything so obvious where anyone from town could see them, much less in the church, but he figured that Conner knew the congregation better than he did, so he didn't comment. Instead he squeezed back and deliberately relaxed, reassured when the songs primarily turned out to be traditional Christmas songs he'd learned through osmosis over the years.
At the end of the service, Conner and Tim stood with the rest of the congregation, waiting until Pastor Willis and the choir had left the sanctuary before the socializing began. Ma intercepted the Mayor while Conner urged Tim over to meet Bart.
"Conner!" Bart exclaimed, hugging Conner tightly. "It's been too long. How are you? How's your family?" When he caught sight of Tim, Bart smiled at him. "Who's your friend?"
Tim assumed this was Bart, and held out his hand, "Tim Drake, I'm just visiting Smallville for business actually, I've been snowed in and the Kents were kind enough to give me a place to say until the weather clears."
Bart shook Tim's hand, still smiling. "Hi Tim! Aren't the Kents great! They've let me stay for Christmas before when Mom and Dad had to go back to Keystone abruptly."
Bart's enthusiasm made him seem too young to be a college student, and Tim gave Conner an amused look as he nodded, "They are. The plan was for me to stay in the church, before Mrs. Kent decided to co-opt me, so I'm glad she did. Needless to say the food is better at the Kent house."
"Oh, man, Mrs. Kent's food is amazing! I dreamed about it at the dorms this year!"
Conner chuckled. "You should come over for lunch before you go back," he said. "I'm sure Ma and Pa would love to see you again."
Bart grinned. "Awesome!"
It was easy to see why Conner and Bart were friends, and feeling rather like the third wheel to their reunion, Tim glanced around for the source of the hot cider he saw a people carrying, "I think I'll get some of that cider, do you gentlemen want some?"
"Sure," Conner said, smiling at Tim. "Thanks." He knew he and Bart could be a bit much, and since they hadn't seen each other in a long time, Tim probably was feeling a bit left out.
Nodding, Tim went to fetch cider, meeting Mr and Mrs. Kent on his way back. After a quick discussion with them, he stopped to give Conner his cider, "Your grandparents are heading back to the farm to start dinner, I'm going to walk them out."
He left unspoken the fact that he was doing it to give Conner more time to catch up with Bart, though it wasn't hard to guess, since he hated the cold.
"Tell them hi for me?" Bart asked as Conner gave Tim a warm smile of thanks and apology.
"I'll be right out," he told Tim.
"Of course," Tim assured Bart, giving Conner a nod and heading over to join the Kents.
A few minutes later a worried voice came from near Conner's elbow, "Conner? Have you seen that guy from Gotham?"
Conner turned to see Greta Hayes standing next to him, looking around the area. "Tim? He was walking my grandparents to their truck last I knew. Why? You want an introduction?" Conner asked with a smile. Greta liked talking to people about traveling to other states and countries, if they had, and Conner was pretty sure Tim had been to a lot of states, if not at least one other country.
Looking distressed, she shook her head, "I just overheard Rose talking to her brother and his friends. She told them the guy from Gotham tried to... They looked really pissed. I think they were going to go look for him."
Conner clenched the cup in his hands, crushing it. Bart looked angry as well. "We need to find your friend," Bart said.
"Yeah," Conner replied, heading for the front door of the church. "Before Rose and her cronies do." He stopped on the bottom steps of the church outside, looking around for Tim or a sign of a disturbance.
As quiet as it was outside, with the snow muffling the noise of the rest of the town, it didn't take long to hear a sharp cry of pain and the sound of an impact around the back of the church where the Kents had parked. By the time Conner, Bart, and Greta had run around the church to the parking lot, Grant Wilson and two of his friends were on the ground and the last was swinging a fist at Tim. Stepping aside lightly, Tim grabbed the man's arm as it went by, and with a pivot and twist that looked more like a dance move than anything dangerous, Tim flipped his attacker neatly. Another meaty thud echoed through the parking lot as the man landed heavily on his back, and he barely had time to cry out before Tim's foot was resting on his chest, "For the last time, I did *not* assault Ms. Wilson, I don't care what she told you."
"Tim, you all right?" Conner called, approaching the group. He glared at Grant Wilson where he lay on the ground.
"What's going on here?" Bart's dad asked as he came around the back of the church, apparently alerted by the noises.
"I'm fine," Tim answered stepping back and brushing snow off of his coat in a fastidious gesture that seemed remarkably at odds with the four guys he'd just put down, "Everything's fine, there was just a... misunderstanding. I'm sure it won't happen again."
Rose came around the church corner then, looking at the scene on the ground, then running to her brother. "What happened?" she asked, glaring at Tim and Conner.
"You told your brother Mr. Drake assaulted you, so he and his friends came to beat up on Mr. Drake," Greta said. "Mr. Drake merely defended himself."
The sheriff looked between the two groups, then looked at Rose. "Rose?" he asked. "Do I need to start filing incident reports for tonight and for the alleged assault?"
Rose glared at Greta, then at Conner and Tim again. Conner glared back. "Considering Mr. Drake has been with my grandparents and I, or with the Mayor, since arriving in Smallville, I somehow doubt any case would stick," he said softly.
Rose looked away. "No, sheriff, we don't need to file reports, either for tonight or any other time."
Keeping his expression and posture completely neutral outwardly, inside Tim was both embarrassed and furious that Rose would make accusations like that. There was no doubt about it, she wanted Conner back and she saw him as a threat to that. The irony was that Tim was leaving and wouldn't be a threat much longer, but she'd completely alienated Conner with this stunt.
When the sheriff asked Tim if HE needed to file a report, Tim shook his head, "No harm was done..." Then he glanced down at the guys who were still laying on the ground and added, "To me."
The sheriff nodded. "Then I'll consider this matter closed, unless something further happens," he said. He ruffled his son's hair and left the area, leaving the younger adults looking at each other.
Conner glared at Rose. "You could have cost Smallville it's chance to get that plant with this stunt," he practically hissed. "You definitely cost yourself any shot at staying even friends with me," he added, going over to Tim and looking him over visually.
"C'mon," he said to Tim. "I'm sure Ma has supper waiting."
Tim, unlike Grant and his friends, looked perfectly fine, though his eyes showed his annoyance, and he shook Bart's hand politely, "It was a pleasure meeting you."
Cold and none-too-pleased, Tim got into the truck as soon as courtesy allowed, and used the brief time it took Conner to say goodbye to Bart to calm himself. By the time Conner joined him and started the car, he was finding the situation more humorous than infuriating and assured Conner, "I'm not going to hold Rose's actions against Smallville, my parents won't even hear about it."
"I know you won't," Conner said as he started the truck and put it into gear, "but she doesn't, and she should have thought of that. If you weren't whatever type of ninja you were back there, and they *had* hurt you, I'm sure it would have reflected badly on the town. Not to mention, *you* would have been hurt, and that pisses me off."
"Judo. I started taking it when I was five after a kidnapping attempt," Tim answered casually, tilting his head to concede Conner's point and putting a hand on his knee reassuringly, "I'm fine, only one punch connected and I doubt it will even bruise. And yes, it would have reflected badly on Smallville but my parents are businesspeople, they would have just taken crime rates in the prospective sites into consideration and made an informed decision on that basis. It would be entirely possible that it wouldn't damage Smallville's chances at all."
Conner raised an eyebrow at the kidnapping attempt, but didn't remark on it, instead dropping his hand from the steering wheel to cover Tim's. "Still doesn't change the fact that she was trying to have you seriously hurt just because she can't cope with a break up. And spreading those kinds of lies?" Conner shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder what I saw in her."
"People change, and sometimes we only see what we want to see in them," Tim answered, thinking of his own ex and how wrong it had gone at the end.
Conner's hand tightened on Tim's as he inwardly hoped he wasn't seeing things in Tim that weren't really there. As they got closer to the farm, he forced himself to relax. "I don't see a reason to mention this to Ma and Pa tonight, do you? I mean, I'm sure they'll hear about it, Smallville's grapevine being what it is, but....."
"I'd rather not bother them with it," Tim agreed, squeezing Conner's hand back, "Nothing important happened, and it's Christmas Eve, I don't want to worry them over nothing."
Giving Tim a small smile, Conner drove the rest of the way in silence. As he parked the truck, he grabbed Tim's hand again, preventing Tim from getting out. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, looking at Tim, leaning in a bit. "I never wanted you to get hurt because of me," he added before kissing Tim lightly.
"I'm fine. The four of them could barely keep their footing on the ice, much less actually do any damage," Tim tugged him into a longer kiss to emphasize his well-being and added when he sat back a little, "I didn't get hurt, stop worrying."
Chuckling ruefully when the kiss ended, Conner nodded. "All right, I will. But we should probably get into the house. Ma was being all secretive about dinner tonight, and I don't want to keep her waiting."
Unbuckling his belt, Tim opened the door and slid out, "I would ask if I should be worried, but I don't think your grandmother is capable of cooking something unpalatable."
Conner shut the door to his side of the truck and locked it. "Pa says there was a time she cooked something like tuna sherry and it was just plain bad. One of the few times they ended up going out to dinner when it wasn't planned. But that was before Dad was born." Conner came around the truck and took Tim's hand as they walked to the house. "Ma has never tried that recipe again to this day."
"I've never even *heard* of tuna sherry," Tim admitted, amused. When Conner took his hand, he smiled, shifting so their arms brushed as they walked. It was a simple kind of intimacy, but it was remarkably satisfying for all its innocence.
"Ma still has the recipe book, but I've never been brave enough to try it," Conner admitted as he opened the door. Krypto pounced on him and barked and licked his face before moving onto Tim, who had followed Conner in. "Krypto, off," Conner said. The dog obeying, sitting on the floor and watching both of them happily as they hung up their coats on the rack. Conner took an appreciative sniff of the air. "Whatever Ma is cooking smells good," he said.
Fending the dog off, Tim nodded in agreement, "Even more so than usual, which I would have thought was impossible."
Krypto gave one last lick to Tim's hand before bounding off to the kitchen. Conner smiled and gestured to the doorway. "After you," he said, with a grin.
Tim headed into the kitchen and paused in the doorway when he saw the shepherd's pie Martha was setting down on the table. Smiling wistfully, Tim continued into the kitchen, automatically picking up the basket of rolls to take to the table, "That looks amazing Mrs. Kent."
"Call me Ma, Tim, you're practically family now," Ma told him, and smiled gently at the uncertainty and longing in his eyes.
Heading for the counter for three mugs of coffee, and his own glass of milk, Conner smiled at Tim encouragingly. "It does look great, Ma."
He had no idea what to say, so he gave Martha and Conner a wan smile in return and helped bring the rest of the stuff to the table. When everyone was sitting and served, and grace had been said, he looked down at his plate, dozens of memories rising at the smell of the seasoned beef and potatoes, "My parents' housekeeper used to make this for me whenever my parents traveled."
Smiling he shook his head in fond amusement, "I must have eaten more shepherd's pie before the age of four than most people do in their entire lives."
Taking a bite, Conner frowned internally. "Sounds like your parents traveled a lot?" he asked carefully. Ma gave him a sharp look, and he shrugged.
Shrugging easily, Tim swallowed the bite he'd taken, "They run an international business and my mother was an active archaeologist for most of my childhood, their work necessitated that they spend the majority of their time away from Gotham. Besides, they enjoy traveling, they rarely spend their free time at home."
"Archaeologist? I'm sure she's been to some interesting places," Pa said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Any stories worth a Spielberg movie?" he asked with a smile as he went back to his dinner. Conner looked over at Tim as he ate, interested in hearing the answer.
"It's usually less 'Indiana Jones' than it is research and very careful digging," Tim said wryly, then paused and said with a small frown, "There was an incident in Haiti when I was fourteen... A local voodoo practitioner took exception to my mother's dig site and kidnapped them. He very nearly poisoned them, but by chance a police officer overheard some of his followers discussing it and the police arrived just in time."
Looking up he gave them a small, apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, that isn't a very festive topic is it?"
Ma reached over to run a comforting hand down Tim's arm. "Perhaps not, but I'm glad your parents were all right."
Pa and Conner nodded in agreement before Pa asked Conner what he thought about the Metropolis football team's chance of winning the Superbowl. Ma rolled her eyes and looked at Tim. "We've lost them for the rest of the meal," she said. "They'll dissect all thirty-two teams now, even those that are so far out of winning the championship it's not worth talking about."
Smiling and shaking his head, Tim assured her, "It's alright, my friends do that when they get started on fashion. I don't have anything to say about that either."
"Hopefully your friends have better fashion sense than what I see on those so-called fashion shows. I think Pa could design better clothing than that for women, and I swear he's colorblind."
"Between Bernard and Tam, I rarely get to pick out my own clothes, so you can judge for yourself," Tim answered wryly.
Ma had to chuckle at that. "Well, then, I think they do have a wonderful sense of fashion, to make you look so handsome."
Blushing a little, not because he hadn't heard it before, but because it was coming from someone he respected and knew was being honest, Tim assured her, "I'll be sure to let them know you think so."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate hearing it," Ma replied. "How is your supper? I hope I'm at least half as good a cook at this as your family's housekeeper."
"Actually... I hope Mrs. Mac never hears it, but this is actually better than her shepherd's pie," Tim admitted, which was true, though a part of him would always prefer the housekeeper's just out of sentimentality.
Conner glanced over from his discussion with Pa to see Ma blush a little at that. He gave Tim a small smile, pleased that he and Ma were getting along.
"Thank you, dear, and I promise not to tell her," Ma said.
The rest of the dinner was uneventful, and Conner and Tim helped clean up the table. There was no dessert tonight, though Conner knew there was apple pie for tomorrow. They gathered in the living room with the tree, and Pa started a fire in the fireplace while Ma brought out the stockings. Three were personalized for Pa, Ma, and Conner, but Ma also brought out the extra stocking for guests, white with blue snowflakes that gleamed with metallic thread. She handed that one to Tim to hang on the mantle.
It was nice that they were including him, Tim thought, running his fingers over a snowflake before he hung it where he was told. It was a gesture so typical of the Kents that he felt a physical pain at the thought of leaving. Still, he had to, and when the little ceremony of hanging the stockings was done he said reluctantly, "I have to fly out on the 27th. I have to be at a meeting to discuss the new plant on the 28th."
Conner's chest hurt when Tim mentioned he was leaving in three days. He wanted Tim to stay, though he'd known since the start that Tim wasn't staying. He had a life back in Gotham that Conner wasn't a part of. "We'll be sorry to see you go," he finally said, unable to say what he wanted to in front of Ma and Pa.
Meeting Conner's eyes, Tim said honestly, "I'll be sorry to be going."
Exchanging a glance with Pa, Ma hugged Tim warmly, patting his back in a soothing gesture, "Well we still have you for a little while. We'll just have to make the most of it. Which means getting up early tomorrow morning for Christmas, so Pa and I are going to retire early. You boys don't forget to close off the fireplace before you go to bed."
Pa clapped Tim on the shoulder, then ruffled Conner's hair. "Goodnight, boys. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Pa, Ma," Conner said as he hugged Ma after she hugged Tim. Once his grandparents were upstairs, Conner turned to Tim. "Did you want to go to bed early too?" he asked, hoping the answer was no.
Shaking his head, Tim slid his arms around Conner's waist, "I hadn't planned on it."
Smiling, Conner pulled Tim tight against him. "Good, 'cause I hadn't either," he said before leaning in to kiss Tim.
Tim responded without hesitation, painfully aware of how little time they had and desperate not to waste it. The urgency he was feeling was evident in his kiss and the way he pressed to Conner's chest.
Sliding one hand up into Tim's hair, Conner deepened the kiss, practically devouring Tim's mouth, wanting more, not wanting to let go.
Clearly Tim didn't either, his hands sliding under Conner's suit jacket to fist in his shirt as if contact with Conner was the only thing keeping him alive. At the moment he almost felt like it was, the prospect of returning to Gotham suddenly a jail sentence rather than a release back to his life.
Breaking off the kiss to breathe, Conner nuzzled at Tim's cheek and jaw, pressing tiny kisses to each as he moved up to lightly tug at Tim's ear lobe with his teeth. "Tim," he murmured.
The husky tone to Conner's voice had as much to do with Tim's shudder of anticipation as the love bite, and Tim pressed even closer for a second before shifting back again and deftly unbuttoning Conner's jacket to slide it off, "As good as you look in a suit, I think I prefer you in flannel and jeans."
Conner let go of Tim long enough to help him get his jacket off before he was returning the favor with Tim's jacket. "I like the way you were that first morning," he said with a small smile. "All that skin..."
"You were showing quite a bit more," Tim reminded him, smiling, "I don't think I've ever woken up that completely, that quickly, in my life."
Starting in on Tim's shirt after the jacket was off, Conner chuckled, leaning in to lick at Tim's pulse point. "I don't think I have either, but it was a great wake up call. You felt so good in my arms."
There was the potential that the elder Kents would come downstairs again for some reason, but Tim had gotten the distinct impression that they were deliberately giving he and Conner time alone, so he didn't protest. Pulling his tie off himself, he let the shirt slide off his arms and tossed it to the couch so it wouldn't wrinkle too badly, and pulled Conner in for a more leisurely kiss before answering, "I could have stayed like that all day."
"Me too," Conner said against Tim's lips. He let his hands drift down Tim's chest, stroking the smooth skin, fingers skirting the edge of Tim's waistband. "I've never wanted someone like this before," he whispered.
The teasing brush of Conner's fingers made Tim shiver, and he admitted honestly, a touch of fear and regret in his voice, "Neither have I."
Not giving either of them time to think about the possibility of never feeling that way about anyone else again, and having to give it up this time, Tim kissed Conner, brief and hard, before sliding off his tie and starting to unbutton his shirt.
Conner closed his eyes at the kiss and shivered as Tim removed Conner's shirt. After a few minutes of Tim's hands on his bare chest, Conner slid his hands to Tim's back and pulled him in closer so he could feel more of Tim as they kissed, honestly not wanting to let Tim go.
It was strange how being this close to Conner *didn't* make Tim want to shy away, he wasn't used to casual physical contact, and was even less used to anything this intimate, but Conner had been the exception to the rule from the moment they'd met. So Tim didn't pull away, he leaned harder, and continued to undress Conner, even while they kissed.
This wasn't him, he went *months* without going so far, usually, but there was so little time and he desperately wanted the memory of at least one night with Conner before he went back to his cold, lonely life in Gotham.
Conner couldn't recall *needing* the feel of anyone like he did Tim. Not any of his previous lovers, and there were less than a handful of those, nor anyone he'd dated. Maybe it was the lack of time for them, maybe it was just Tim himself, but the more they kissed and touched, the more Conner wanted. He might never have another night with Tim, and that just made these moments all the more precious to him. He slid his hands to the fastening of Tim's slacks and pulled away from the kiss to murmur, "May I?"
Laughing softly, Tim looked up at him with a light in his eyes that his friends would have been shocked, and delighted, to see, "I have to give it to Smallville, you are all so polite. Yes, you may, in fact I encourage it."
The light in Tim's eyes took Conner's breath, and he had to swallow before he could respond. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't being too pushy," Conner said. "I don't want to scare you off." He started opening Tim's slacks, fingers dipping under the waistband of Tim's underwear to find more smooth, warm skin.
"You won't," Tim assured him, the words coming out rougher than his usual even tones, and he couldn't help the arch and flex of his body that encouraged Conner's exploration. He wanted to take time, but that wasn't a luxury they had so he made the offer of himself clear in the way he responded to Conner's touch, and his own hands on Conner's skin.
"Good," Conner whispered, pushing at Tim's slacks and underwear, easing them over Tim's erection until they were pooling on the floor around Tim's feet. Conner's own erection throbbed in want as he took in the sight of Tim, gilded by firelight, standing there, wanting Conner.
Conner's frank gaze made Tim shift a little in self-consciousness, knowing that despite his hard earned muscles he looked more delicate than he would like, particularly in comparison to Conner's sheer size. Then he met Conner's eyes and stopped caring about anything but being with him.
Stepping out of his clothes and into Conner's arms, he made a soft, desperately pleased noise as their bodies slid together, perfect and yet still not quite enough.
Running his hands over Tim's back, Conner sighed. "I need... I mean..." He swallowed. "I don't know how far you want to take this, but the condoms are upstairs," he finally said, not looking at Tim.
Somehow Conner's shyness alleviated Tim's own, and he smiled before nudging Conner's face back to him for a brief kiss, "Don't take too long."
Conner kissed the tip of Tim's nose and hurried up to his room, thankful he remembered this while still wearing his pants. The lights were off in Ma and Pa's room as he glanced at it before going into his. He grabbed the condoms and the lube out of his nightstand and hurried back down to Tim. The thought of Tim waiting for him, for this, made Conner smile and he knew he probably looked goofy as he entered the living room.
Tim had obviously taken the time to pick up their discarded clothes and fold them neatly, more out of something to occupy himself than out of concern for their clothes, though he DID need to make sure his suit was in wearable condition. When Conner returned, grinning, Tim couldn't help but smile back, shaking his head in warm affection.
By the time Conner joined him in front of the fireplace, the amusement had given way to a thrill of anticipation and Tim slid his hands up Conner's arms to the back of his neck to pull him down for a lingering kiss. There were a hundred things they could say right now, but Tim couldn't think of one that wouldn't be said better with their bodies than with words.
Conner went into the kissing more than willingly, pulling Tim close. He took one of Tim's hands in his own and gently urged it down to the waistband of his suit pants, wanting Tim to see everything, wanting to be skin to skin with Tim, nothing between them, not even the air they were breathing.
Not hesitating to take the implied suggestion, Tim shifted back just enough to undress Conner the rest of the way, though he did have to move back further so Conner could step out of his pants. Taking the opportunity to take in the entire picture Conner presented, Tim had to consciously breathe in, then lifted his eyes to Conner's, his desire and awe at being given this chance clear.
Meeting Tim's eyes, Conner couldn't help but raise a hand and cup Tim's cheek. Tim looked like a kid giving a present he wasn't quite sure was his, and Conner wanted him to know this was all for him. He leaned in and kissed Tim tenderly, then more aggressively, pulling him against Conner, naked skin to naked skin, gasping softly. "I want you," he muttered into the kiss,
Tim didn't even try to stop the soft noise of pleasure and whole-hearted agreement Conner's touch and words prompted, and while he didn't bother to string together the words to indicate that he was more than willing to be had, the deliberate shift of his hips made the sentiment clear.
Without breaking the silence between them, Conner and Tim managed, through gestures and more soft kisses, to stretch out on the floor, Tim resting on top of Conner. They exchanged more kisses as Conner's hands slid lower, his fingertips disappearing into the seam of Tim's buttocks.
It had been a long time, but Tim had absolutely no fear that Conner would hurt him, and shifted to straddle Conner's hips, both to encourage Conner, and to make it easier. It was strange how the process was both hazy with overwhelming sensations, and crystal clear with his intense focus, but above even the physical sensations was the warm swell of how gentle and almost reverent Conner was with him. Tim had *never* felt so treasured, and as much as he wanted to linger and memorize, the novel sensation increased his urgency until he was trembling from it.
Slowly, carefully, Conner prepared Tim, wanting this to be good, to be pleasurable instead of painful. It had been a while for Conner at least, and he didn't know how long for Tim. So he takes his time, until Tim trembling and making short, needy sounds that send jolts of need through Conner's body. Pulling his fingers out, Conner reaches for the condom. Getting it out of the package and onto him is not easy, he's shaking that much, but finally he does. He slicks himself up with lube and then lets himself look into Tim's eyes as he positions himself near Tim's entrance, leaving Tim on top. "Ready?"
Not trusting his voice, Tim nodded, bracing himself and shifting back. His eyes closed tightly and he gasped for breath, overwhelmed in the best of ways at the heat and slide of Conner inside him. It took a moment before he could gather himself enough to move, and it seemed almost immediately that they'd established a smooth, satisfying rhythm.
Conner bit his lip as Tim sank onto him, the heat and pressure around him almost too much. He forced himself to wait, to not thrust until Tim moved, and then it was perfect, moving in sync, building Conner's need up higher. He slid one hand from Tim's hip around to Tim's erection, wrapping his fingers around it and stroking in counterpoint to his thrusts, looking up at Tim, memorizing how he looked in the throes of passion.
A low noise of pleasure escaped Tim at that, though he unconsciously kept it quiet, and despite his struggle to postpone the inevitable, desperately wanting to stay in the moment, one look down at Conner's enthralled expression pushed him over the edge he'd been hovering on.
Groaning at the feel of Tim coming, Conner threw his head back and gasped as he thrust a few more times and then was pushed over the edge himself, his groans containing something that might have been Tim's name, but he was too lost in the sensations to be sure.
When Tim regained conscious thought, he was laying across Conner's chest, breathing heavily and absolutely convinced that not even the world ending could entice him to move. There was a kind of lingering, primal pleasure in feeling Conner's panting breath beneath him, and hearing the strong, fast thump of his heart, and as relaxed as he felt, it took him a long time to summon up the motivation to speak, and when he did, all he said was, "Thank you."
He knew, dimly, that it was an awkward sort of thing to say, but at the moment he wasn't coherent enough to verbally express how grateful he was that Conner had been so generous and tender, and that Conner had been willing to share this with him at all.
Finally regaining enough energy to move an arm, Conner brought one up to stroke lightly up and down Tim's back. "Thank you," he said in response. Tim had been incredibly responsive, and beautiful, and generous. Conner leaned his head up just enough to nuzzle at Tim's hair, not wanting to let Tim go, either tonight or later. But he pushed that thought out of his mind and just enjoyed having a naked and satisfied Tim in his arms.
Relieved that Conner understood what he'd been trying to say, or at least wasn't confused by it, Tim smiled in sleepy pleasure and turned his head just enough to kiss Conner's chest, observing after a moment, "We should go upstairs, while we're still awake." He didn't so much as twitch to accomplish this though.
"Mmm," Conner agreed, not moving. He kept stroking Tim's back, watching the lights and shadows of the fire dancing on Tim's skin.
Tim lingered there, warm with Conner's body heat and the slowly dying fire, but after he had nodded off and woken up again a moment later, he forced himself to shift, "We really do have to move. As much as I hate to, I would hate your grandparents finding us here on Christmas morning even more."
Blushing, Conner nodded. "Way too much embarrassment for a few life times right there." He nuzzled at Tim again. "You could stay in my room," he offered softly. "Once we've cleaned up down here."
Lifting his head to look at Conner, Tim smiled, one of his tiny, genuine smiles, "That's enough of a consolation to get me to move now."
Conner chuckled and kissed Tim's nose before moving so they could both get up. Tim went into the kitchen to grab them a damp dishcloth so they could clean up a bit before putting their underwear back on. Conner banked the fire so it would go out over night, then picked up his clothing. "Ready to go upstairs?"
Gathering his own clothes, feeling wonderfully loose and just sore enough to be a reminder, Tim yawned politely behind his hand and the slid it into Conner's, squeezing as they headed upstairs.
Don't get used to this, Conner told himself as they headed into his room, still holding hands. Inside, Conner hung up his suit and put his laundry in the basket, handing Tim a hander for his suit. He turned back the sheets and blankets on his bed and slid under the covers, moving over and holding them up in clear invitation to Tim.
Curiosity had him glancing around Conner's room, but Tim was too tired to satisfy it tonight, particularly with such a welcome invitation open to him. Sliding in next to Conner, Tim settled against his side with a contented sigh, pushing aside the part of him that wanted to tell him this was a bad idea, that it would hurt more later. He had it now, and he was determined to enjoy it.
Part Four