(DCU) Slickly Shared
Title: Slickly Shared
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Kon/Tim
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1159
Timeline: Post-Final Crisis
Notes: Comeplay. Facial. Snowballing. For Kink Bingo, prompt "bodily fluids".
Summary: He loves seeing Tim like this, his skin sticky and wet and so obviously used.
He’s close, God, he’s so fucking close. There’s that familiar tightening in his balls, that knot of tension in the base of his spine, and Kon’s gasping in each breath, chest heaving. One hand gripping the edge of the mattress, the other in Tim’s hair, careful to keep his fingers gentle, even if all he wants to do is palm the back of Tim’s head and fuck in as far as he can. And Tim would let him, would open his throat so dutifully, because Tim firmly believes that if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and that totally extends to blow-jobs.
Kon’s not exactly sure what he’s done to deserve Tim’s mouth. Sure, he’s saved the world a few times, but that’s still not enough, because Tim’s mouth is that amazing.
He can’t hold it in any longer, sweat on his forehead and every muscle in his body tensing up. He twitches his hips back a little, even if it kills him to do it, to leave even an inch of that perfect damp heat. Tim tries to follow him, shifting forward on his knees between the spread of Kon’s thighs, but Kon braces himself with his TTK, gets both hands on Tim’s head. Cups his face and holds Tim still, thrusting in shallow as his dick pulses, throb of feeling so good it’s painful, as he starts to come.
One of those weird, random things about being half-Kryptonian is that when Kon comes it lasts longer than the average human. Not ridiculous amounts of time, he’s not like one of those pigs that orgasms for half an hour or something insane like that, lucky little bastards. But it’s just a shade longer than a human, and it’s fucking messy. Because a longer orgasm means more jizz. A lot more jizz.
Kon’s used to it. It’s normal for him. And Tim’s used to it too, they’ve been together long enough. Which means Tim already knows he can’t take it all in his mouth, but that’s just fine. That’s the whole damn reason Kon started pulling back when he could feel it about to hit, although the first spurt still coats Tim’s tongue. But then Kon nudges Tim back on to his heels, cock slipping from those lips, and Tim, shit, he just closes his eyes and tilts his head back, because he knows how Kon likes this.
Keeping one hand on the back of Tim’s neck, and wrapping the other low around his cock. Aiming for Tim’s mouth as the next wave hits, painting those swollen lips, watching how they get all shiny, and he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, it’s too much. But his x-ray vision kicks in instinctively, because there’s no part of him that wants to miss a second of this, so he can look through his eyelids as he shoots over Tim’s cheek, his chin. Pumping himself a little as he groans, getting come in Tim’s hair, which is kind of an accident because Tim gets pissy about anything messing with his hair, but Kon can’t bring himself to be the slightest bit repentant.
The way Tim looks like this, it’s so vulnerable, so damn sexy, fucking marked by Kon’s come. Looking hot enough to get another jet out of his cock, a little weaker now he’s slowing down. Tim hums softly, lips twitching, and Kon has to aim at his mouth again for that, for the sardonic humour in the way Tim just raises an eyebrow and allows it. Kon grunts, slumping back when he’s finally done, and Tim’s a wreck and it’s so damn beautiful. It’s not quite bukkake levels of jizz, but he definitely looks like at least two people came on his face, not just Kon. It twists Kon up in the best kind of way, because he did that, he destroyed Tim’s prissy, carefully kept façade, he made the biggest control freak he’s ever met look like something out of a porno.
Part of him just wants to collapse backwards and drift on the bliss of aftershocks, but there’s also like seventeen others parts of him that want to taste. He drops off the bed to his knees, hauling Tim close, scent of sex thick in the air. He licks across Tim’s closed right eye first, where he splashed come over his eyelid. Once that’s clean, Tim can open his eyes, and he looks at Kon with such raw, open hunger that Kon has to reach down again, grip his dick and moan softly for the shock of sensation that makes him throb.
He licks a messy path over Tim’s cheek, and he probably shouldn’t enjoy the taste of his own come so much. Although it’s probably more the act of cleaning Tim up, of licking it off Tim’s skin that he really enjoys. Tim watches him with shrewd, narrowed eyes, until there’s more jizz smeared over Kon’s mouth than Tim’s face, and then he’s gripping Kon’s shoulders, pulling him in close.
He opens his mouth against Kon’s the second their lips meet, and Kon mirrors him, lets out a needy little noise for the slickness he feels as Tim’s tongue pushes into his mouth. Tim’s held on to that first mouthful of come, and he bears down on Kon, pushing up onto his knees and kissing him fiercely. Feeding Kon his own come, tongues slowly curling together, and the taste like this is even better. Sharing it back and forth, slow and deep, the texture of it as important as the taste, wet and so intimate. Dragging Tim closer until he’s straddling Kon’s lap, hips rocking against him, Tim’s cock rubbing against Kon’s abs. Getting him wet where Tim’s leaking, so damn hard against him, and Kon swallows, pulls back from the kiss and chases a drop of come from the corner of Tim’s mouth to his chin.
They’ll shower when they’re done; Tim’s too fussy about not sleeping in wet spots and the state of his bed sheets to let Kon just fall asleep. Plus Kon came in his hair, so Tim’ll insist on washing it, and blow-drying it, and fussing at it in the mirror for far longer than is really necessary. But it doesn’t matter, because Kon’s Kryptonian senses mean he’ll be able to smell it, tomorrow, even days from now. He’ll be able to trace the scent of his come on Tim’s skin, even after one shower, after two. Even when they’re in uniform, even when Tim’s back to being the stoic superhero, when they’re all business and nobody would ever imagine somebody like Red Robin would let someone like Superboy come all over his face.
But for now, Kon’s going to enjoy letting Tim come all over him. Because he honestly isn’t sure which is better, the scent of his come on Tim’s skin, or Tim’s come on his, but why does the choice even matter when he can have both?
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Kon/Tim
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1159
Timeline: Post-Final Crisis
Notes: Comeplay. Facial. Snowballing. For Kink Bingo, prompt "bodily fluids".
Summary: He loves seeing Tim like this, his skin sticky and wet and so obviously used.
He’s close, God, he’s so fucking close. There’s that familiar tightening in his balls, that knot of tension in the base of his spine, and Kon’s gasping in each breath, chest heaving. One hand gripping the edge of the mattress, the other in Tim’s hair, careful to keep his fingers gentle, even if all he wants to do is palm the back of Tim’s head and fuck in as far as he can. And Tim would let him, would open his throat so dutifully, because Tim firmly believes that if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and that totally extends to blow-jobs.
Kon’s not exactly sure what he’s done to deserve Tim’s mouth. Sure, he’s saved the world a few times, but that’s still not enough, because Tim’s mouth is that amazing.
He can’t hold it in any longer, sweat on his forehead and every muscle in his body tensing up. He twitches his hips back a little, even if it kills him to do it, to leave even an inch of that perfect damp heat. Tim tries to follow him, shifting forward on his knees between the spread of Kon’s thighs, but Kon braces himself with his TTK, gets both hands on Tim’s head. Cups his face and holds Tim still, thrusting in shallow as his dick pulses, throb of feeling so good it’s painful, as he starts to come.
One of those weird, random things about being half-Kryptonian is that when Kon comes it lasts longer than the average human. Not ridiculous amounts of time, he’s not like one of those pigs that orgasms for half an hour or something insane like that, lucky little bastards. But it’s just a shade longer than a human, and it’s fucking messy. Because a longer orgasm means more jizz. A lot more jizz.
Kon’s used to it. It’s normal for him. And Tim’s used to it too, they’ve been together long enough. Which means Tim already knows he can’t take it all in his mouth, but that’s just fine. That’s the whole damn reason Kon started pulling back when he could feel it about to hit, although the first spurt still coats Tim’s tongue. But then Kon nudges Tim back on to his heels, cock slipping from those lips, and Tim, shit, he just closes his eyes and tilts his head back, because he knows how Kon likes this.
Keeping one hand on the back of Tim’s neck, and wrapping the other low around his cock. Aiming for Tim’s mouth as the next wave hits, painting those swollen lips, watching how they get all shiny, and he can’t keep his eyes open anymore, it’s too much. But his x-ray vision kicks in instinctively, because there’s no part of him that wants to miss a second of this, so he can look through his eyelids as he shoots over Tim’s cheek, his chin. Pumping himself a little as he groans, getting come in Tim’s hair, which is kind of an accident because Tim gets pissy about anything messing with his hair, but Kon can’t bring himself to be the slightest bit repentant.
The way Tim looks like this, it’s so vulnerable, so damn sexy, fucking marked by Kon’s come. Looking hot enough to get another jet out of his cock, a little weaker now he’s slowing down. Tim hums softly, lips twitching, and Kon has to aim at his mouth again for that, for the sardonic humour in the way Tim just raises an eyebrow and allows it. Kon grunts, slumping back when he’s finally done, and Tim’s a wreck and it’s so damn beautiful. It’s not quite bukkake levels of jizz, but he definitely looks like at least two people came on his face, not just Kon. It twists Kon up in the best kind of way, because he did that, he destroyed Tim’s prissy, carefully kept façade, he made the biggest control freak he’s ever met look like something out of a porno.
Part of him just wants to collapse backwards and drift on the bliss of aftershocks, but there’s also like seventeen others parts of him that want to taste. He drops off the bed to his knees, hauling Tim close, scent of sex thick in the air. He licks across Tim’s closed right eye first, where he splashed come over his eyelid. Once that’s clean, Tim can open his eyes, and he looks at Kon with such raw, open hunger that Kon has to reach down again, grip his dick and moan softly for the shock of sensation that makes him throb.
He licks a messy path over Tim’s cheek, and he probably shouldn’t enjoy the taste of his own come so much. Although it’s probably more the act of cleaning Tim up, of licking it off Tim’s skin that he really enjoys. Tim watches him with shrewd, narrowed eyes, until there’s more jizz smeared over Kon’s mouth than Tim’s face, and then he’s gripping Kon’s shoulders, pulling him in close.
He opens his mouth against Kon’s the second their lips meet, and Kon mirrors him, lets out a needy little noise for the slickness he feels as Tim’s tongue pushes into his mouth. Tim’s held on to that first mouthful of come, and he bears down on Kon, pushing up onto his knees and kissing him fiercely. Feeding Kon his own come, tongues slowly curling together, and the taste like this is even better. Sharing it back and forth, slow and deep, the texture of it as important as the taste, wet and so intimate. Dragging Tim closer until he’s straddling Kon’s lap, hips rocking against him, Tim’s cock rubbing against Kon’s abs. Getting him wet where Tim’s leaking, so damn hard against him, and Kon swallows, pulls back from the kiss and chases a drop of come from the corner of Tim’s mouth to his chin.
They’ll shower when they’re done; Tim’s too fussy about not sleeping in wet spots and the state of his bed sheets to let Kon just fall asleep. Plus Kon came in his hair, so Tim’ll insist on washing it, and blow-drying it, and fussing at it in the mirror for far longer than is really necessary. But it doesn’t matter, because Kon’s Kryptonian senses mean he’ll be able to smell it, tomorrow, even days from now. He’ll be able to trace the scent of his come on Tim’s skin, even after one shower, after two. Even when they’re in uniform, even when Tim’s back to being the stoic superhero, when they’re all business and nobody would ever imagine somebody like Red Robin would let someone like Superboy come all over his face.
But for now, Kon’s going to enjoy letting Tim come all over him. Because he honestly isn’t sure which is better, the scent of his come on Tim’s skin, or Tim’s come on his, but why does the choice even matter when he can have both?