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“I dunno, I think I like the lemon one better,” Kon said, licking leftover frosting from a paper plate.
Wayne Enterprises had sponsored an employee’s cake tasting for her wedding, and Tim got to take the leftovers back to his apartment at the end of the day. The bride had decided almost immediately that she wanted a coffee cake on her big day (which was, frankly, horrible—Tim may love drinking coffee, but eating it is a whole different thing), so Tim had quite the spread sitting on his coffee table. Lemon, red velvet, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, angel food, hummingbird—all in all, a glorious sight.
Much to Tim’s delight, he had a full plate of chocolate cake to tear apart. This must be what euphoria was. Honestly, how could anyone not love this flavor? It was amazing.
“I’m a slut for chocolate,” Tim told his boyfriend, sighing in joy when another forkful hit his tongue. It was fucking heaven.
Kon’s arm slid over Tim’s shoulders, pulling him against Kon’s side. He let out a laugh. “You’ve got some on your nose,” he said, swiping it off and laughing more when Tim went cross-eyed to see.
Kon smiled down lovingly. “You’re so small.”
Tim narrowed his eyes. “I’m not small. Damian’s small.” Goodness fucking gracious, could he not go one day without a comment about his height? He was perfectly average! “I’m five feet and seven inches, excuse you.”
Kon raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
“Six inches.”
“Honey…”
“Five!”
“Tim.”
Tim huffed and stuffed another bite of cake in his mouth. “Four,” he mumbled dejectedly, muffled by chewing. Kon didn’t have to be right all the time.
His only saving grace was the fact that Damian, at thirteen, was two inches shorter than him. It wasn’t a whole lot, considering their six-year gap, but it was enough!
Tim pressed his cheek into Kon’s chest, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His boyfriend was his own personal heating system, more comfy and safe and warm than any blanket could ever be. “I love you,” he said.
Kon used a hand to tilt Tim’s chin up. Tim opened his eyes to look at Kon’s. “I love you, too.”
Their lips met, a soft kiss that tasted like chocolate and lemon and perfection. Tim sat up straighter, positioning himself in Kon’s lap and wrapping his arms around the super’s neck. Kon wrapped an arm around Tim’s back and placed his right hand on the back of his neck, holding him close. Perfectly molded for each other, they lost themselves in a matter of seconds, each kiss turning deeper and more powerful than the last.
God, Tim was so in love. He’d met Kon, what? Five years ago? They hadn’t clicked at first, but soon they became inseparable. And, well, the rest was history.
Kon’s hands traveled down to Tim’s waist, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt—
And the door banged open.
“Hey, Timbo, you never gave me your file on the drug case—oh my God.”
Tim whipped his head around to the doorway where Jason stood, eyes widened and face turning red. Tim scrambled up out of Kon’s lap, tripping on his own feet and almost hitting his head on the coffee table on his way down. He got back up and snatched a Manila folder from the island by Jason and shoved it in his hands.
“Why didn’t you knock?” he said through gritted teeth, heat rising to his cheeks.
“I didn’t expect you to be knee-deep in the fucking passenger seat, that’s why!” Jason said back, glaring. Oh, yeah, like he had a right to be angry.
“It’s my apartment! I don’t have to tell you my business!”
“I never said you fucking did! I thought you were with Bernard, anyway!”
Tim grimaced. “Bernard? Jason, where the hell did you get that idea?”
Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “I just didn’t think you’d be banging Superboy!”
Kon, at that moment, raised a hand from where he was still sitting on Tim’s sofa. “Uh, am I supposed to take offense?”
“No!” Tim replied at the same time Jason shouted “Yes!”
Tim turned back to glare at his older brother. “You have what you need. Goodbye.”
“Good riddance,” Jason grumbled, muttering under his breath about dumb little brothers. As Jason slammed the door behind himself, Tim went back to Kon, sitting beside him and burying his head in his hands.
“I’m never going to live this down,” he groaned. Kon’s arm came across his shoulders.
“You’ll manage,” Kon said, not quite able to stop from snickering at the situation.
“It’s not funny!”
“It kind of is.”