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Shameful Company

Summary:

Damian’s impatience to wait on a case traps him in Tim’s apartment. Kon indulges in having an audience.

Notes:

Damian’s POV. Opinions on Kon are not my own.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Damian was careful to keep his footsteps silent as he walked through Tim’s apartment. It was a small thing. Unnecessarily humble for a man of Tim’s net worth. Why Tim insisted on living off his parents' trust fund as opposed to the Wayne fortune was a mystery Damian didn’t care enough to solve. What he came here for was much more important.

The apartment was dark. Tim has not yet returned from his weekend with Young Justice. A weekend that was cut short by Bruce’s request Tim finish Damian’s latest case. Damian crept to Tim’s desk and began to sift through the papers with his good hand. His left shoulder was dislocated. His target, Slade, had ripped the bone from his socket.

If Damian could not stop Slade, what made his father think Tim could?

The Pretender.

Damian’s nose twitched at the phrase. He has used the taunt in a board meeting this past week. Tim disappointment, clear throughout the car ride home. Their first silent drive home in weeks.

Damian had been fighting this older habits. Working to push them aside as he forged a new relationship with Tim. Surely Tim knew that Damian misspoke. That his insults had no teeth. He respected Tim. Admired even.

Damian sucked his tongue to stop the guilt from rising. He already felt humiliated. He failed to apprehend Slade. His shoulder ached.

He took a shaker breath and kept searching. This was a battle between his father and him. Between Slade and him. Tim was merely caught up in it.

Objectively, Damian knew why his father chose Tim to take on the case. He would take it slow, plan out a multitude of scenarios and bide his time so long as Slade stayed quiet. Tim would reign in the case while Damian healed, but there was no time for that.

Damian needed to end this.

His jaw cracked from his clenched muscles

Damian was tired. Frustrated. Heavy from the weight of inaction. His gloved hands shifted through drawers of tech. Tim had a habit of hiding his resources in plain sight. Rarely was he stolen from due to this misdirection. All Damian needed was the right SSD drive. There were a few scattered amongst the papers. Damian considered taking them all.

A bang was heard on the front door and Damian instinctively ducked behind the desk. He listened and steadied his breath.

Laughter. Tim’s laughter. Open and louder than Damian had ever heard. There was a matching rumble of joy Damian couldn’t place. Another person. Male. Familiar.

“Hey, you need to stop touching me if I’m gonna open the door” Tim’s soft voice caused Damian’s ears to prickle. He had not heard that tone from Tim before.The complaint offered no real bite. Only playfulness. The handle of the door jiggled.

Damian had shut and reinstated the locks on Tim’s windows when he entered. If it was left open too long it would catch Oracle’s attention. He disappeared quickly into the closet. The door unlocked.

Inwardly, he cursed himself as his back hit the wall. He landed heavily and his shoulder blared. He berated himself for hiding. He should have stood his ground. He could explain himself to Tim.

Laughter flooded his senses. “Dude,” the second voice started, “I was totally going to lose it if Jinny actually came over for more drinks.” Damian recognized the voice as Superboy. Not his Superboy. The cloned Superboy. The human science experiment gone wrong. Kon-el.

“You would not.” Bags hit the floor and sounds of ruffling filled the room.

“Totally would have,” Kon returned. “Would have said Jinny, friendship time is over, I need to fuck my boyfriend.” Tim snorted and Damian’s throat went dry.

He held down the need to cough. Boyfriend. The word itched awkwardly in his mind. Damian tried to ignore how his palms began to sweat.

“No,” Tim teased, “you would have sucked it up until Jinny fell asleep on the couch like last time.”

“Nah. I would have said ‘Jinny please understand Bart slept over every single night this weekend so I’m gonna need - at least - one evening to thoroughly ravage the former boy wonder before heading back to Hawaii.”

Damian held his breath and tried to think. He fists balled at nothing against the floor.

“Thoroughly ravage,” Tim teased. Damian's stomach fluttered at the amusement that dripped from Tim’s tone. “I feel like that’s really different than saying you need to fuck me.”

Damian screwed his eyes shut. Fuck. He did know Tim to curse. He did not think of Tim having sex. He did not know Tim was even interested in men. He had not thought about it. No, that wasn’t true. Damian thought about it but never allowed himself to seriously consider it. Tim had a wide variety of girlfriends. Had Damian known he would have - fuck. Damian took in a breath as music switched on.

Something soft. A mellow beat and moody words. Damian breathed out and tried not to think of Tim’s face. He would have been blind to not understand how attractive Tim was. Tim, who liked men in the same way Damian did, was so very handsome.

“I can do both.” The creak of the floorboard was like thunder in Damian’s now pounding head. His shoulder muscle jolted painfully at Tim’s surprised gasp. “I’m super talented like that.”

What an idiot. Damian was aghast. Is this how they flirt? He pressed the palms of his hand into his eyes.

“Really,” Tim’s voice was deep. Warm. Damian shuddered and swallowed, finally. His mouth was watering. His palms itched. “How about you show me how uh - supertalented you are?”

Damian stifled a laugh at Tim light mocking of Kon’s tone. A gust of wind rattled the door of the closet hinged, revealing a small sliver of light. Damian opened his eyes when the color hit his face.

Tim moaned and Damian’s hips squirmed.

Hot. Flushed. Sweating. Damian took inventory of his physical responses as something uncomfortable pooled in his abdomen. A wet pop was heard over the music and Damian watched as Tim’s back hit the mattress. He hiccuped through his laughter.

Damian felt a pang shoot through him. Something scolding and distasteful. Throbbing.

Kon was over Tim in a second. Damian could barely see. His mind was indecisive as to whether it was a blessing for a curse. A vertical line of their shoulders and chest. Why were they laughing so much?

The two were close. Too close. Unnecessarily.

Why? Why the clone? Damian sucked on his lower lip. Honesty flooding his senses. Damian warred with the need to think about Tim. In the night when damp dreams hazed his once coherent mind, Damian rolled his hips at the thought of Tim’s body. Across the conference table, Damian resisted the urge to speak just to feel Tim’s gaze. When Tim landed a strong blow on an assailant's cheek Damian tried to ignore how his heart shuttered. On patrol, when the sun rose too quickly and Tim offered him a sleepy grin, Damian felt his toes curl.

Kon groaned into Tim’s mouth. It was animalistic. Heavy and drowning in unabashed pleasure.

Damian knew he was gay. But he didn’t indulge. Never felt too much of a need. The temptation was there but never too strong to overcome. The sounds Kon made reminded him of the porn he had once tried watching. Something ugly and loud.

Shame wafted through Damian in waves. He should leave. Apologize. Swear to keep Tim’s relationship a secret. Never speak of this again.

But Damian couldn’t move. The sensations were underwhelming. His cheeks were flushed hot. His stomach vile churned.

Guilt, he identified. The sound of Tim’s mattress creaked. Embarrassment. The lyrics of the song hit Damian’s ears like whispered nonsense. Anger. Kon’s breath heavily clouded over Tim’s. Shock. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Tim’s grip on Superboy’s shoulder. Arousal. The red that botched Tim’s forearm caused Damian’s mouth to tingle. The desire to kiss.

His growing erection made his head pound.

Tim whimpered and Damian heard his own breath hitch.

The world seemed to stop when Kon’s eyes met Damian’s. Had he heard?

All sound, words, sensations, gone in an instant. White noise on the backdrop of the realization.

Blue, alien eyes stared back at him.

The clone had super hearing.

Kon had known. Known all along.

Damian had never felt so stupid.

It was slow and deliberate the way Superboy’s lips curled unevenly. He winked before disappearing into the crook of Tim’s neck.

Something heavy knotted in Damian’s chest.

He watched as Kon aggressively tugged on Tim’s hips to pull him lower on the bed. To show Damian what he had done.

Tim’s eyes were clenched shut. Mouth wet and swollen from kissing. Hair tousled, sticking to his flushed cheeks. He was panting and if Damian concentrated he could see how Tim was whispering Conner’s name.

Damian hated Kon.

Kon pushed up Tim’s shirt and maneuvered their bodies again. Turned Tim’s head away from the closet door. Away from Damian.

Those few seconds of Tim’s face were permanently etched in his memory.

Damian felt sick. He needed to move. Carefully he shifted his hips and shut his eyes. His cock hardened further against the slight friction.

He could reach up. Close the door. It was less than an inch wide. If Tim looked he would see Damian. But Kon was aware. Was stopping Tim from seeing Damian.

What an asshole.

How did Tim not know he was there?

His guard must be down. No fear of an intruder in his apartment. How often did he get like this with Conner? Ra’s was always a possibility? How did he not worry? Did the clone make him feel safe? And he was drinking! Tim never drank with the family. But apparently with Young Justice, Tim drank, cursed, and fucked his boyfriend.

Damian steeled himself in thought. Breathing carefully as his blood pumped to his growing erection. How could this Tim exist? He and Tim and spent a great deal of time together in the last few months. Patrols. Board meetings. Tim had even helped him pick out his class schedule for his first semester at college.

Tightness twisted through Damian. He had thought he had grown into someone Tim could trust. Someone Tim wanted to share things with.

“I want to suck you off,” Tim breathed out. Heat ramped across Damian’s belly.

A husky “Yes,” answered Tim’s hunger. “Yeah,” Kon offered again, “whatever you want. You’re so fucking hot Tim.”

Eloquent.

Damian was a virgin, sure, but he was also sure he could string together a better compliment than that. His head drifted back till it hit the wall of the closet. His eyes still screwed shut.

The mattress groaned as their bodies shifted in a way Damian didn’t allow himself to see. The sound of leather belts and the clang of buckles strained against Damian’s ears.

Damian lifted his palms to cover his ears. If Tim was indeed sucking dick, he could quickly close the door while his attention was diverted. But that would require opening his eyes. And then what? Sit in the closet till they both fell asleep? Hope they would leave after having sex? Jump out and say ‘Hello, it’s me, Damian. Your insane boyfriend knew I was here the whole time.’ Tim might believe him. Probably would instantly understand that Kon had to have known, but then what would he say after that?

‘Sorry, it took me a while to come out of the closet because I have an erection. When did I get an erection? Well I believe once you two started kissing, Timothy. Hope that this will not complicate our healing relationship.’

No. Damian’s mind drifted back to the curl of Superboy’s lips. The two of them were trapped. Mutually assured destruction. If Tim discovered Damian then Tim would also discover that Kon had allowed this. Allowed his ego, to involve another in his voyeuristic fantasy.

It was best to wait it out. Plot his revenge for the clone after escaping. The thought of kryptonite and Tim’s anger helped quell his pulsating cock.

“Holy Fuck Tim,” Kon’s voice broke through Damian’s makeshift earmuff. “Your mouth is so good.”

Damian did not picture it. Refused to picture it. His eyelids scattered with purple stars from how tightly he held them. He did not, will not, should not, think of Tim engaged in fellatio.

“I wanna fuck your face. Is that ok?”

At least he asked. Did he always? Or did he just assume Tim wanted his mouth to be used.

Damian bit down on his bottom lip and his cock twitched.

“Don’t stop, Rob.”

Rage boiled through Damian. Rob. Robin. The clone called Tim by his alias during sex. And Tim let him. Did Tim want that? Did he want to be called Robin during sex?

Damian shook his head. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t Superboy’s word to use. It wasn’t his name. It was Tim’s. Damian’s. It was theirs. It did not belong on the tongue of someone who didn’t understand the true weight of the mantle.

Damian gritted his teeth as Kon groaned. It was ear-splitting. Disgustingly so. He was no doubt about to cum. Damian opened his eyes to see only Kon’s chest heaving. His arms reaching down toward Tim who was out of Damian’s line of sight. He used the moment to close the door as the sound of Kon cumming permanently stained his memory.

Damian did want to see Kon cum. Know where he came. It was probably in Tim’s mouth. God, why was he even guessing. Hopefully Kon did not cum on his face. Would Tim swallow? Damian hated how easily these questions came. Hated how his erection ached against his jock. Hated how badly his shoulder hurt. Hated his father. Slade. Hated Kon. Hated how he ended up here.

Hated Tim for dating such a man.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tim started as Kon’s breathing calmed, “I like the enthusiasm but did you hear yourself?” Damian felt his mouth quirk awkwardly. An almost laugh on his lips. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them.

Damian ignored how the movement made his cock and body shudder.

“Yeah, why?” Kon huffed.

“Because you were so loud, Kon. Did Black Canary like pop out your eardrums or something?” The bed shifted and bare feet were heard on the wood floor.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna get you a hearing test.” It took everything in Damian not to laugh.

“What? Dude, you don’t have one of those in the apartment.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m fine! More than fine. I was just super into it.”

“I’m pretty the entire building knows you were super into it.”

“It was not that loud.”

“I think I need to check my own hearing actually.”

Damian wanted to cry. Fighting down arousal and laughter was truly torture. Fighting through the affectionate teasing of Tim and Kon was maddening.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Your moaning was dramatic.”

“Speaking of moans, you haven’t cum yet.”

A pause. Damian held his breath in it.

“I haven’t,” Tim answered, heavy and loving.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Feet padded on the floor. A rustle of sheets. The song ended and a new one faded in. Damian felt so undeniably weak.

“I wanted to fuck you,” Tim answered and the sound of him probably sitting back down hit Damian’s ears like a drum.

He hadn’t had time to think about who did what in Tim and Kon relationship. Before Kon said he wanted to fuck Tim. Now Tim was conveying the opposite. Did they switch roles? Porn made it seem like it was one or the other. Top or bottom. That was it.

“But I’m worried,” Tim teased, “If I fuck you then you’ll break the sound barrier.” Kon scoffed

“You think you’re so funny.”

“Only sometimes.” There was silence and then the soft sound of kissing. Damian worked on steadying his breathing. Kissing he could handle. Had to handle.

“How about you return the favor,” Tim’s smile was heard between kisses, “and then we go to bed. I’m exhausted and I promise you can thoroughly ravage me again tomorrow before work.”

There was so much love in Kon’s voice when he answered, Damian had to swallow this sob. “Deal.”

The rustles returned. Shifting weight. Lips on lips and skin and panting. Softer now. Less performative. More real. Quieter.

Damian’s hips bucked into his thighs. Tim’s. These sounds were Tim’s. Kon's mouth was on Tim’s body. But the sounds that were now wafting through Damian’s mind were Tim’s.

They were so different than Kon’s. Deep at moments, but light at others. It seemed like whatever Kon was doing elicited a variety of sound from Tim.

Damian’s mind drifted. A kiss on Tim’s neck might receive a moan. A stroke down Tim’s stomach - a ticklish whimper. A squeeze of Tim’s thigh might result in a throaty groan followed by a needy “Please.”

“Please Conner.” Damian. “Don’t tease me.”

Damian’s belly trembled as hiccups escaped his throat. Pleasure cascaded through him as he rocked his hips. The sound of wet lips on skin mixed with Tim’s breathy pants. The sensation replayed itself. The pain had all faded under the sound of Tim’s voice.

“I’m so close,” Tim whispered just loud enough for Damian, “you’re so good to me. So gorgeous.” His ears pricked at the praise. He knew it wasn’t for him. Couldn’t be, and yet he shook. A small and surprised cry left Tim’s mouth and Damian came. He bit down on his arm to suppress the sound. Damian blinked back tears, as he thrust, wrecked and desperate, through the pleasure of his muffled orgasm.

The sounds of Tim faded into the picture he had of Tim’s face. The one Kon ensured he saw. He tilted back and forth. The tingle of his veins still hot. The shame from the knowledge he had came in his tights suppressed for now. The awareness that he hadn’t touched himself, forced below his bliss.

Damian wanted to hear these sides of Tim. To hear his laughter. His warm teasing. His compliments. His pants as Damian brought Tim to orgasm. He wanted Tim to call him gorgeous.

The world buzzed like static. Kon and Tim spoke and moved beyond Damian’s hearing. If Damian listened he would have heard Kon clean up. He would have heard Tim drift to sleep. The music stop. He would have been aware enough to not be surprised when the door opened.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Kon questioned and Damian’s eyes snapped up. He blinked back the tears.

The alien bore into him. He was in a pair of flannel PJ bottoms and nothing else. Damian felt the rage and fear surge through him as he looked back toward the bed. “Tim’s asleep. I’m using my TTK to keep him from hearing us.”

Damian squeezed his knees tighter and tried to think. He scowled to cover his embarrassment. “You're pathetic!”

“And you have a crush on my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Damian pushed himself to stand. His height was just as high as Superboys. “You allowed this to happen. You’re using your power now to prolong this exchange. You abused them for some perverted fantas-”

“You were welcome to go. Step out of the closet at any time,” Kon laughed at the no doubt irony of the image. “But you didn’t, dude. Why? Cause you wanted to see, which is fine. We all have our kinks.” Kon shrugged. “But the pigtail-pulling has to stop.”

“Does it make you feel clever to be purposefully cryptic?”

“This week at the board meeting you embarrassed Tim,” Kon growled. Damian suddenly felt small in the Superman’s presence. Red-tinged at the corner of his eye. “You’re an adult now. You can’t go fucking around with Tim’s life anymore because of some childhood obsession.”

“I do not-”

“Save it.” Kon stepped aside and motioned for the door. “Get out. I’m not going to fight you while you’re injured.”

“But you’ll subject me to-”

“Get out.” Kon’s eyes flashed red. Damian wasn’t scared. This would be easier to explain now. He could tell Tim he has just snuck in. That Kon caught him and-

Damian’s eyes flickered to Tim bundled in the bed. His breathing was soft and the anger that boiled inside Damian subsided for a moment. A press of nothing was felt on his calves. Kon was using his TTK to push him toward the door. Damian didn’t look back at the clone as he left the apartment. Closed the door care as carefully as he entered.

Damian walked. Walked till his mind caught up with him. When he got angry, he ran. He ran through the streets of Gotham.

He huffed. His chest burned. He ran till the pain in his thighs clouded the pain in his shoulder. He ran in hopes he would wake. That this had all been a mistake. A nightmare.

When Damian arrived home, he was out of breath. He hunched at the waist and used his good arm to brace against his knee. It was late. The city was dark. He as alone.

The clone would not get away with this, Damian resolved. He heaved and frowned when he could not vomit. Grimaced when he felt the cum crack on his thigh. Damian would no allow the clone to continue on like this. He would not involve Tim in his perverted games. Damian took a deep breath and looked to the window of Tim’s old bedroom.

Damian had work to do. Had a new case to start. Slade can wait.

This was a case that no one could take from him.

Damian needed his Robin. Needed to bring him home.

Notes:

Whether or not Tim is aware of Damian’s presence is up to the reader (unless I ever get around to writing a sequel and decide for myself).

Also this is the second time I’ve trapped Damian in a closet. Poor guy.

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