Superblond Bingo

"Gods, you are so lovely like this, Kon," Bernard murmurs from miles away, voice dripping with approval. "Stuffed all full, so happy and beautiful. You're such a perfect omega."

His hips move helplessly, trying to both push himself back onto Bernard’s hand and up into his grip, and probably not doing either very well. That doesn't slow down his alpha though, who just keeps moving like there isn't a Super writhing under him.

Kon wants to feel embarrassed by the squelching mess between his legs, by the dry gasping of his breath, but right now, those sounds are the only things he can hear around his alpha's words.

"You've got one more in you, don't you?"

Does he? Does that mean he isn't coming right now? It still kind of feels like he is, or maybe like he's been coming for his whole life.

He honestly isn't sure that he can come again, but if there's a height higher than this, he wants Bernard to take him there.

"G-g-g-ot it in me," he croaks, although he isn't entirely sure — he isn't even sure if he still has a skeleton in him, at this point.

“So sweet, you're so sweet for me,” Bernard moans, mouthing along the inside of Kon's knee. “Can't believe you thought I didn't want you. Never want you to think that again. Gotta show you, make sure you know how much I want you, omega.”

The knot presses deep, twisting just right, and Kon chokes on a sob. His omega basks in the sweet words, soaking up the kind of gentle admiration it can never manage to earn on its own.

There's no "earning it" with Bernard, though, no purpose he has to serve or tricks he has to perform for scraps of affection. Bernard only gives and gives and gives, like he deserves it just by existing. Kon doesn't think his omega has ever felt quite so adored as it does with this alpha.

"You smell so good, and you sound so good, and you look so good, and you feel so, so fucking good."

The heavy, overwhelmed timbre rolls under his drifting consciousness like ocean waves, keeping his hazy mind bouyant enough to hear every delicious word.

The ocean he's floating on is luxurious and warm, moving to and fro without cresting. He's striving to answer the demand in his core for another orgasm, but his body is so saturated with pleasure, he can't find the jagged edge of a cliff to pull himself over.

"I bet you taste incredible, too, don't you? I want to taste you, put my face between these gorgeous sculpted thighs and eat you out until I suffocate. Will you let me do that, sweetheart? Let me make you feel good like that?"

Kon wants… All of that, yeah. Wants all of it and more.

He wants to scream, to shatter, to crash — he knows in his bones that just one more will finally be enough and it will all be over — but getting there seems impossible.

His alpha is just as overwhelmed, if somewhat more in control of himself, judging by Bernard's frantic heartbeat and the claim-fuck-keep bleeding through his scent.

"I want to take you to my den and keep you there until everything I own is dripping with you."

"Keep me," Kon hears himself choke out.

He didn't mean to say it, he thinks in a sudden panic. He should apologize, should take it back so Bernard doesn't think he's—

"Yeah, sweetheart, gonna keep you," he groans in agreement. "Course I am. "

Bernard leans down, his breath hot and damp as teeth scrape down a sensitive inner thigh. He doesn't stop until he finds the swell of Kon’s femoral glands, those intimate, scent-rich nodes that are only active with arousal.

The contact of his tongue is electric— it's a filthy, claiming gesture that makes Kon’s entire frame shudder. Anyone standing near him would smell the unmistakable sweetness of those glands on the alpha's breath and guess at exactly how that scent made its way to his mouth. For a mated pair, it's a sign of a healthy match – almost expected for mates who are trying for a litter.

With a deep, extended growl that vibrates through his fucking psyche, Bernard latches onto that spot with lips and tongue and just the gentlest bit of teeth, and worries at it until Kon's thighs clamp around him with a keening cry.

His alpha is trading very obvious markers between his saliva and Kon's skin, and being obviously intentional about it.

Anyone Bernard so much as walks past will be catching a whiff of KON WAS HERE for days, and if Kon tried to welcome any other alpha into his nest, they'd be hit with the territorial claim of a rival alpha as soon as he spread his legs. An alpha who might actually turn to violence to protect his claim, considering the extreme levels of get back–warning-mine Bernard is infusing into his efforts.

With a wet pop, his alpha releases the skin to meet his eyes again, and he's—

Every other scrap of awareness falls away in favor of the way Bernard is looking at him.

The white of his eyes is almost entirely eclipsed by wide-blown pupils. His upper lip is furrowed and the corners of his mouth stretch back with every inhale, so far that Kon can see the glistening, serrated edge of his premolars. Rivulets of saliva track all the way down to his chin.

There's a fury in his coiled posture that Kon's always found instinctively unnerving when facing off against alphas in combat.

But from his alpha, in his nest, for his heat? Yeah, it hits different, like this.

If he wasn't already tied on a knot, Kon's omega would be urging him to run, to dart away and keep out of reach – but only just enough to make sure that his alpha would give chase and prove that Kon is a prize worth catching.

His alpha isn't snarling out of anger, but to better pull his mate's scent deep into his mind, where it can never be forgotten. He's baring his teeth and coating them with saliva to allow for a cleaner bite, a stronger claim.

The potential energy in those tensed-up muscles aren't to fight him – it's to pounce and catch him if he runs, to show him that Bernard is an alpha worth being caught by.

Suddenly, Kon's omega is urging him to run, knot or no knot, with a spark of mischief that briefly burns through the fog of heat. It yearns for the crazed adrenaline of being pursued, of feeling the distance between them shrink as Bernard proves that no matter how far or how fast Kon could run, he would never be out of reach to his alpha.

More than anything, Kon wants to know that if he dared to slip away right now, his alpha would tear the world apart to find him.

He actually tries, for an entire half-a-second, to arch himself away so the knot slips out. What had been surreal bliss going in feels like his hole is being ripped apart as he tries to remove it. Even his TTK is powerless to stop the way his entire body clamps down in an electric-sharp cramp and tells Kon, 'fuck you, we're not doing that.'

His omega may want the thrill of the chase, the security of an imminent claim, but his body already has the prize it wants, and it won't be giving it up.

"Careful, sweetheart," Bernard murmurs, his consonants thick with salivation. "You won't like what happens if you try to run from me right now."

He means the way his body reacted to removing the knot. Kon knows that's obviously what Bernard means.

But what if it isn't? His idiot omega can't help wondering.

If Kon ran – if he really ran – no human alpha could catch him. Only a handful of meta-human alphas could catch him.

He could mean that Kon wouldn't like what would happen because Bernard wouldn't bother to get up and even try to chase him. He could mean that he wouldn't like watching Bernard stand at the edge of his nest, arms crossed and unperturbed to see the retreating figure of such a weird, big, messy, pathetic—

"I don't want to see you hurt yourself," Bernard is continuing, "especially in your own nest. "Besides, you already ran, didn't you?"

Confusion cuts off whatever spiral his omega had been winding up for.

"I– I did?"

Kon has zero recollection of giving chase or being caught, but he knows he's been kind of in and out of it at points. He's certain he would remember something as monumental as being caught, though. Especially by this alpha.

"Mhm," his alpha hums lightly, turning his head to mouth at the gland on his other thigh. "You ran all the way here — to me — didn't you? All so I could catch you."

The logic of it is slippery, and the deliberate and obvious focus Bernard is putting into scenting the swollen knob of his other femoral gland isn't helping to keep things right-side-up in his head.

He tries to remember when he had decided to come here, tracing his path from the humiliation at the Hall of Justice to the moment Bernard had opened to door for him.

That was all at least a hundred years ago, so it's hard to remember the details, but he knows that he wanted to come to a place that felt familiar – a place that had been so safe for his last heat and felt more like pack than anywhere else he'd ever been.

At the time, he'd thought he was coming to find the familiarity of Tim. But part of the it had been the synthethic alpha pheromones that had turned out not to be synthetic at all. Part of what he'd been coming back for really was—

"I— Yeah," he rasps, a bit stunned by how clearly he sees it. "I did. I ran to you, alpha."

For just a moment, both teeth and fingers dig into his thigh a little harder. With a shudder, Bernard seems to will himself to let go and sit up, put just a tiny bit of space between them. He stares between Kon's legs, where one hand is still holding him tied on the knot. The other hand thumbs curiously across one femoral gland, still wet and reddened. He takes a deep breath, and Kon feels him release the tension from his shoulders as he exhales.

"My alpha is being very pushy at the moment," he says in a much more normal tone. It nee—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. "No, it wants to be closer to you right now. On top of you, specifically. Would that be alright?"

As far as Kon's omega is concerned, that is the best idea since sliced bread – or just since bread, period.

The idea of Bernard's solid, muscled frame pressing his body down into the softness of his nest, feeling plush textures beneath him and hot skin above him, with his alpha's scents of spicy clove and rainy pine all around him is… That'd be… It's…

Hell, that might be the best idea since yeast.

He doesn't really have the words to say all that right now, so settles for whatever sound wants to spill out of his mouth this time. He expects another of those keening whines that seems to get such a reaction from Bernard, so he's surprised the chirpy, vibrating trill that comes out instead.

Bernard's serious expression brightens at once. "You like that idea, huh?" he asks with a little chuckle. "I'm glad. I feel like I can't get enough of my scent on your skin. I don't mean to be so possessive, I'm just– fuck, my alpha just wants you so bad. I want you so bad, Kon."

Kon reaches forward with clumsy, shaking hands to pull at his alpha, urge him to stop being so damn considerate and just start being in his space already. It's too hard to ask for him to scent him everywhere he can reach, no matter how scandalous.

Shoving aside the pillows under Kon's hips, Bernard fucking finally pushes back up and into his space. With one arm still between his legs, he can't quite get as close as Kon would like, but he is close enough to suck lightly on one nipple, which is a solid runner-up prize.

The knot shifts inside him with the change in position, reminding Kon urgently of its presence the orgasm he's been circling around.

His head falls back into the nest, and a deep groan drags out of him that sounds so un-omegaline, a spike of burning humiliation interrupts his pleasure.

Bernard doesn't seem to notice his ungainly sounds, stretching up to bury his face eagerly into the exposed line of Kon's neck.

"Now everyone will know," Bernard says, his voice finally overtaken with the full, rolling gravel of a real alpheline growl. "This is where you belong, omega."

The truth of that voice and the words it speaks settle into him, reassuring any doubt he had. Of course he belongs here, with his alpha, with his pack. He knows this is where he belongs, and more importantly, now everyone else will, too. No alphas will mistake him for stray, and when Tim gets home, he'll know that Kon belongs here when he smells it all over Bernard's face.

"Smell so good," Bernard groans.

Kon feels a strong spike of some emotion he can't name as this newest truth slips into him.

Bernard runs the tip of his nose across his mating gland, panting and salivating onto his skin.

Kon squirms under Bernard like he's trying to escape — only, escape is the literal furthest thing from his mind at the moment — and his alpha cages him in, pinning him more firmly, just like he'd hoped for.

"All mine," his alpha claims, before running his tongue, firm and flat, up the side of Kon's neck.

Then the whole nest explodes in a storm of cosmic lightning, and his TTK field expands with the overwhelming sensations until he can feel every bolt and rivet through the houseboat. He makes sure to draw it tighter around Bernard, shielding him from any accidental injury from his super-strength or TTK.

It's a good thing he does it, too, because the second wave of his orgasm crests even higher than the first did, and his whole body clamps around his alpha.

If Clark didn’t shut up and let him leave soon, Kon was going to throw him through a wall. He’d been dragged out to help with a stupid alien invasion that should have been Green Lantern’s issue, and maybe caused a little more damage than was strictly necessary while booting them back to their ships. 

Another distant keen made him twitch, the same sound that had been driving him insane since he left. Clark had sixty seconds then he was leaving. Bernard sobbed his name and Kon clenched his jaw so hard that it ached. Scratch that –Thirty seconds. Clark had thirty seconds max to be done lecturing before he left. 

“Superboy, are you listening?!” the man demanded, and his attention snapped back to the mound of rubble they were standing upon. “How could you be so irresponsible?”

Irresponsible? The Lantern’s had fucked up negotiations badly enough to result in Earth being invaded by an alien armada and Kon was the irresponsible one? He wanted to protest but the wet sounds of Bernard frantically trying to ease his desperation were too urgent. There was no more time to wait. 

“You dragged me away from my mate while in the middle of his heat,” he hissed at Clark, baring his teeth. “I. Don’t. Care.”

Clark looked taken aback. “You have a mate?”

Kon stared at him, taken aback. He was drenched in the scent of omega in heat; did Clark think that was how he normally smelled? He knew Clark didn’t have a designation, that he was functionally a Beta, but he had never imagined that Clark might not be able to identify the pheromones that flooded the streets of the city, that hung so heavily in the air that he could taste Bernard even now, miles away from him. 

“Yes,” he grit out and Clark blinked for a moment before visibly putting the thought aside. 

“Regardless,” his idiotic genetic donor started, “there is no excuse for being so reckless. You could have hurt someone.”

He thought about mentioning the fact that he was well on the way to a sympathy rut but Clark was entirely Kryptonian: he had no idea what that felt like and he never would. He wanted to tell Clark that his TTK had been threaded through every building in the area, that he’d known exactly where every person on the battlefield had been and that there had been no danger, but he couldn’t find the words. His teeth hurt, aching to dig into Bernard’s neck. His dick ached too, rock hard and pressing against his cup firmly enough that he would have bruised had he been human. Fuck. Cancel being on his way, he's definitely in rut already.  

Wonder Woman’s hand landed on Clark’s shoulder, and Kon met her eyes with furious defiance. The nod she gave was curt, but her expression was nothing but understanding.

“Go, Superboy. Help your mate. We can speak of this later.”

He threw the sheets back, leaving the bed rumpled and unmade. Either they’d be returning to it soon, or he could deal with it in the morning, it wasn’t important right now. He ensured that his steps made noise as he wandered down the hall; the last thing he wanted was to spook Bernard by appearing behind him unexpectedly.

The loungeroom was dark, lit only by moonlight and the ambient light filtering in through the window. Bernard sat in shadow, gazing out the window at the flickering city, cars still meandering through the streets despite the hour. He didn’t move when Kon called out to him softly, nor when he circled the couch to kneel in front of him. 

“Bear?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “You okay?”

Bernard was tucked up into the smallest ball he could manage, arms wrapped around his knees. He looked exhausted. Kon sometimes wished he didn’t have supersenses, that he couldn’t see exactly how dark the circles under his eyes were, how silvery tracks of moisture marked the path of tears down his face. His eyes dropped, lids fluttering shut as he took a shuddering breath, and Kon reached up to take one of his hands, stroking its back with his thumb. 

“Bernard?” he tried again, and Bernard nodded, a tiny, jerking movement that made him melt with relief. The episodes where Bernard was so deep he couldn’t react were some of the worst - he was glad his husband had avoided that this time. He was pretty sure he knew what had caused this one, an accident on the train where Bernard had been shoved against the wall roughly. It hadn’t left bruises but sometimes even a moment of pain could bring the memories of torture flooding back. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, stroking Bernard’s hair out of his face. Bernard leans into his hand with a sigh, dropping a kiss on his palm, but saying nothing. Kon shifts, rising to sit beside him on the couch, hand still cupping his husband’s face. He sits close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off Bernard’s skin, so close but so far away.

“Stay with me?”

The words are barely even a whisper, a breathless plea that shatters Kon’s heart. He scoots forward, wrapping an arm around Bernard’s waist and pulling him into his chest. Bernard moves with him easily, uncoiling from his stiff posture to melt into Kon, arms wrapping around him with an iron grip. 

“Of course,” he whispers back, pressing a kiss into Bernard’s hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bernard’s shoulders shake. His breath hitches. Warm tears soak through the thin fabric of Kon’s shirt. He burns inside, pouring all of his willpower into keeping his hands steady and breathing soft. One minute with the bastards who put Bear through hell, that’s all he would need. He’d make them understand what real fear was. But as he lay there, still rubbing soothing circles over his husband’s back, he knew it wouldn’t help. His anger is useless, the danger already over, the hurt already inflicted. All he can do is exactly what he will do: keep holding Bernard and reminding him that he is loved and no longer alone.    

-

The original plan i.e. when I took a hard left into a different idea

The original plan i.e. when I took a hard left into a different idea

What. “What?” he asks incredulously. No way. There is no conceivable way Bear just said what he thought he said. 

“You said you couldn’t, right?” his boyfriend asked, eyes still glued to Kon’s pubic region. “Not that you didn’t want to?”

Kon felt like he was dreaming. There was a fuzzy sound of static in his ears. 

“I mean yeah but dude, look at me,” he said, gesturing to the appendages that were beginning to curl together in the cool air. “You really want to touch that?”

Bernard finally looked him in the eye, a frown crossing his face. “Don’t talk about yourself like that babe. Of course I want to touch you.”

“Bear,” he says flatly. “I look like an octopus mated with a clam.” That had been Knockout’s description, after she stopped screaming. He’s never forgotten it. 

Bernard looks at him again, this time consideringly. “Kind of, yeah. The tentacles look kind of labial actually.” He looks back up, eyes shining with excitement. “Dude you have no idea how cool this is, seriously. There are xenoanthropologists and biologists who would kill to be here right now.”

Kon lets out a startled laugh, even if he hates the idea of being studied again. Bernard tilts his head, peering closer, and Kon has to restrain himself from covering up reflexively. 

“Gods you’re amazing,” Bear breathes, eyeing him with the kind of hunger he usually reserves for Ma’s breakfast muffins. “Do they work like human cocks? Can I suck you off?”

“How are you real, dude?” Kon manages, heart beating so fast he feels faint. Out of all the reactions he’d planned for, enthusiasm wasn’t on the proverbial bingo board. 

“What?” Bernard defends, face flushing an endearing shade of red, “You’ve never met anyone who was curious before?”

Sexually curious doesn’t usually mean xenophilia, he wants to say, but he's pretty sure Bernard would have strong opinions on that. Instead he just shakes his head.

“I mean, I’ve had partners before but they didn’t… I just, I get why they didn’t want to. That’s all. You don’t have to touch me, I promise. I can make you feel good instead.” That had been what he’d done for the others. Knockout had wanted a dick so he’d worn a strap, and Tana had made it simple by just sitting on his face until he managed to make her cum. He could find a way for Bernard too; he was sure he’d be able to work out blowjobs pretty fast. But Bear seems determined to prove him wrong. He stands, closing the gap between them and reaches up to press a soft kiss to his cheek, holding Kon’s face in gentle hands as he turns the world upside down completely.

“Kon, babe, you have no idea how much I want to try it. Can you move them all independently or is it just reflex?” The question is asked with complete sincerity, and it finally tips Kon over the edge.

“Uh. Both?” he stammers, sinking to sit on the edge of the bed, staring up in disbelief. “You actually want to try this?” He can’t help asking the question again. He’d been expecting disappointment or disgust, or maybe even anger for stringing Bernard along for so long. He hadn’t expected interest. 

Bernard kneels, trailing a hand up his thigh, and Kon shivers as one of his tendrils reaches out to wrap around his fingers, leaving a sheen of moisture behind. 

“May Aphrodite grant me strength and stamina,” Bernard whispers, captivated by the movement, and Kon chokes as he strokes the tendril with his thumb. “I’m gonna need it.”

“I thought Dionysus was your guy?” he asks, voice strangled. He can’t think of anything but the heat of Bernard’s skin on his flesh. It feels indescribable. 

“Eh, that didn’t really go well,” Bernard mutters, leaning forward to nuzzle at the central mound of appendages, red hot tongue flickering out to taste him. Kon yelps, legs closing around him reflexively and dragging him closer. He doesn’t seem to mind, bracing his arms on Kon’s thighs. 

“You never answered the question,” he reminds Kon, and Kon scrambles to think. Oh. That. 

“I don’t know?” he answers shakily, “No one’s ever tried.”

“Excellent,” Bernard purrs, and his smile is utterly wicked. “Let’s find out.”

-

Sometimes he dreams about who he might have been if he hadn’t been cracked out of a cloning vat at age 16 and made into a superhero. How different would his life have been if he met Bernard in high school and fell for him then? Would Bear have avoided the Children of Dionysus if he’d had support? Would Kon have a real family, a mother and father who loved him? There’s no way to know, but he finds himself dreaming about it sometimes. He should call Ma for a chat. She has a way of putting things back in perspective for him.

Bernard’s commute is 27 minutes, and Kon spends it laying on the couch listening to the world go by. Out in Park Row the Red Hood is already out on his rounds, stomping across rooftops and letting himself be seen by terrified drug dealers and drunken idiots who are wandering a bit too close to trouble. In the Diamond District, Spoiler is distracting Orphan on their stakeout. Two streets away, Bernard steps off the bus with a shiver, and begins the walk to their apartment building. 

Kon feels each step as Bernard comes closer, ditching the couch to turn on the microwave when he enters the building. He hears the sigh of relief he lets out as he leans against the metal walls of the elevator, and the yawn as he trails his way down the hall to his apartment. Kon pulls open the door when he’s barely a meter away, opening his arms to envelop his boyfriend in a warm hug.

Bernard hums his contentment, nuzzling his cold nose into Kon’s neck. His hair carries the smell of Gotham’s smog, his breath the faint aroma of the curry he’d taken for lunch. Maybe it should have been unpleasant, but it’s all wrapped up in that particular scent of Bernard that makes Kon want to kiss him senseless.

“Hey babe,” Bernard says, planting a kiss on his cheek. Kon can’t help the sappy smile that spreads across his face as he looks down at him.

“Hey, Bear,” he replies, ushering him into the warm apartment and stealing away his backpack and coat. “Dinner’s ready.”

Bernard gives him another kiss for that, this one lingering on his lips. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not even close,” he retorts, pulling out the chair beside him at the table and watching as Bernard tastes it. Ma’s recipes are almost always a hit, and her shepherd's pie is particularly famous; he hopes he’s done it justice. Given the way Bernard digs in with gusto, he thinks he has. 

“Busy day?” he questions, even though he already knows most of it. Bernard gives him a half-shrug, waiting until he’s swallowed to answer.

“Eh, not so much. Three hours of lectures, two assignments due, and a prac class in the afternoon followed by work.”

“Sounds busy to me,” Kon tells him dryly, and Bernard smiles, the kind of self-deprecating expression he hates to see. For someone so wonderful, he thinks pretty poorly of himself. Bernard looks at heroes and vigilantes and doctors and firefighters and finds himself wanting, as if he hasn’t saved Kon’s life before just by existing. 

“I’m pretty sure yours was worse,” Bernard tells him, and it’s Kon’s turn to shrug.

“Fighting aliens is easy; at least I didn't have to write an essay about it. I’m gonna guess you’ve already seen the videos.”

“Well yeah, of course,” Bernard says, rolling his eyes. “As if I wouldn’t look up the videos and read the comments.”

Kon snickers, dropping a kiss onto the tip of Bernard’s nose and narrowly missing getting smeared with a fork-full of mashed potato. “And how many comments did you leave defending my honour?”

“As many as I had to,” Bernard retorts. “You always do an amazing job babe, anyone who thinks they can critique you deserves it.”

“I’ll pass that on to Robin,” he laughs, and Bernard chuckles too, standing to drop his empty plate in the sink. 

“Oh, right!” he says, perking up suddenly. “I got something for you before work!”

He did? Kon had been kind of busy that afternoon, cleaning up rubble and making sure everything was safe after the aliens had been kicked out of New York. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

“A surprise!” Bernard calls back, the sounds of rummaging meeting Kon’s ears as he hunts through his backpack for the mystery gift.

“No cheating!” Bernard orders and Kon pulls his TTK back into himself, watching with bemusement as Bernard approaches with his hands behind his back. 

“Okay,” he starts nervously, and Kon hears his heartbeat begin to speed up. “So this might be a bit stupid, but I really wanted to give this to you.” He extends his hands, and Kon cups his own, the gift falling into them with a quiet jingle.

It’s a key. A key with an enamel El-crest tag, but otherwise just a key. 

“It’s for the apartment,” Bernard explains, heart thrumming faster. Kon just stares at it, frozen. “I know you can use TTK to open the door so it’s kind of useless but it’s like, symbolic? Like we’ve been dating for a year now and you come over all the time but I want you to feel like this place if yours too.”

“Please say something? I know it’s stupid but–”

Kon interrupts, blinking to clear the strange fuzziness in his vision. “It’s not stupid.”

Bernard looks at him, biting his lip. “It’s not?”

“It’s not. Bear, I…” his heart is the one pounding now, and Kon is surprised the whole apartment isn’t shaking when he gently places it on the table, reaching out to pull Bernard into his arms. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Bernard squeezes him gently, dropping a kiss into his hair with a relieved sigh.  

“I’m glad you liked it. You don’t have to use it, I know it’s like, a stupid normie thing–”

“I’m gonna use it,” Kon tells him, voice muffled by Bernard’s sweater. “I’m gonna keep it on me and use it every time.”

“Yeah?” his boyfriend asks, and Kon nods, closing his eyes and soaking in the warmth. 

“Yeah.”