this whole jondami/timkon situation will surely devolve into the most legendary foursome the world's ever seen, mostly because none of them know when to stop
Damian pulls Jon forward, and of course he goes. He’s such a sucker, of course he’s going to let himself be drawn into whatever Damian’s mind’s cooked up this time. His fingers curl inside the waist of Jon’s jeans, brushing tauntingly against the elastic band of his briefs and the soft skin in between.
His eyes burn into Jon’s, green and hypnotizing, green and daring. Lighting a thrill that buzzes just beneath the surface whenever Damian gets all handsy like this. Even if the location leaves something to be desired, it’s fine. They’ve done way worse in much dirtier places than a kitchen–
Jon’s hands grip Damian’s waist, and squeeze just a little, enough to feel the give of him. He leans down and falls head first into kissing Damian breathless.
Or, more like he finds himself feeling breathless. Damian’s such a good kisser that even without actually needing to breathe, he’s definitely something like light-headed. It feels like his knees are going to collapse in on themselves, and he’s going to crumble into a puddle of a half-Kryptonian mush.
That’s just kind of what happens, he supposes, when you’ve been kissing each other since you were kids. You get really, really familiar with what the other person likes. Because their lips slide together and their tongues meet and Jon has to pick Damian up so he can sit on the counter instead, has to step closer, between the welcoming spread of his knees, or else he really might just fall to his own.
Damian doesn’t even argue, he leans into it. Hooks his ankle around the back of Jon’s knee, and flicks the button of his pants open so he can slide his hands even more inside. Though they drift from the front—teasing. He’s always doing that. Dragging it out, pushing at Jon’s buttons until he’s just about to crack—Damian ends up gripping his ass, though, squeezing and pulling him even closer, and god.
Maybe it’s not so bad. Their cocks press together, and it’s so, so, so good. Even through denim, even through whatever fabric Damian’s slacks are. The pressure makes his mind go fuzzy. Fuzzier. Jon yanks at Damian's tucked in shirt so he can get his hands on him, feel the warmth of his skin without all the extra fabric in the way.
Jon pulls back from the draw of continuing to kiss Damian, and groans against lips. His mind does somersaults in the gasp of space between them. “You’re gonna make me come my pants if you keep this up.”
“Good,” Damian murmurs back. He mouths down Jon’s jaw, then pauses when he gets to his neck. He looks over Jon’s shoulder, pulling him closer with the grip he still has on Jon's ass. “Enjoying the show, Timothy?”
“You're doing this shit on purpose.”
Jon turns his head to look, and it’s not just Tim. Kon’s right beside him with that look on his face—he’d been way too caught up in Damian to notice their approach, let alone that they were even in the manor at all.
Damian huffs a breath, it puffs warm over Jon’s skin and wrings a shiver from his spine. His own hands drift higher up Damian’s back, splaying wide over skin mottled with scars he could map with eyes closed.
“I assume you have evidence to back up such an egregious claim.”
“Well, I think this is a great–” Kon starts, only to be cut off with a swift kick that probably doesn’t feel like anything, but gets the message across all the same.
Jon snorts. Damian’s definitely doing this on purpose, and Kon's more than a little into it. And Jon, he's– hm. He guesses he'd kind of started it. Whatever it is. In a not at all roundabout way. The picture of Damian he'd sent to get Kon to stop blowing up his phone. It'd worked for… what, ten, fifteen minutes?
Enough time for him to get Damian off. Enough time for Jon to explain what he’d done, and for Damian’s lips to part and his heart to speed up and for him to say, ‘let me see.’
Enough time for Kon to stare at the same picture and maybe listen in and imagine whatever implications he wanted–
“Evidence?” Tim waves a hand at them. “How about neither of you even attempting to separate when you’re caught?”
Jon does hesitate at that. He turns to look at Damian, shifts as if to move away, only for Damian to press his ankle more firmly to the back of Jon's knee and hiss under his breath. “Stay.”
Kon laughs. A sharp, singular, ha! “Yeah, Jon. Stay.” His voice goes higher, cooing, “just like a good little puppy.”
That doesn’t at all make his face heat up and his dick twitch. Doesn’t at all make his stomach squirm and make him want to grind up against Damian’s leg just like a damn puppy.
“Dude. Shut up,” he manages to choke out instead. It doesn’t sound very convincing. Not even to himself, but probably least of all to Kon.
“As if you have room to speak, Conner. Timothy lapping at you in my ear as if–”
“Damian,” Tim warns in a low tone.
“Tt. Whatever. Leave then. As you've pointed out, I'm in the middle of something.”
After what feels like a forever long staring contest between Tim and Damian, some sort of consensus or stalemate or something is come to—they actually do leave, and Tim drags Kon back the way they came.
Though not before Kon throws out so casually, as if it's nothing. Just a normal thing to say to Kon's boyfriend's sort of brother; his sort of, kind of, brother-nephew's boyfriend. “If you wanted a photo keepsake of your own, all you had to do was ask, little Rob.”
“Both of them are insufferable,” Damian grumbles when they're not even fully out of earshot yet. Kon can definitely still hear them.
But it only matters for the moment it takes for the thought to come and go, because Damian starts back biting at Jon's neck with a renewed fervor. His fingers tighten, digging into the muscle still cupped so firmly in his hands, making Jon groan. Damian lines their erections back up… Jon really shouldn't be surprised that neither of them are any less hard.
It’s my birthday todayyyyy (yuck) and more of whatever the hell timkondamijon have going on is the best gift I’ve received in my life
Happy birthday!! 🎉🎉
Those losers don't even know what they've got going on. Just timdami bitching at one another and eye fucking while Jon's standing there in the middle, hard as a fucking rock, like ALRIGHT and Kon's also standing there like HELL YEAH BROTHER (literally).
