Fic: Miracle in Smallville (Part 2 of 4) by anidawehi & kyrdwyn [Tim/Conner, NC-17 overall]
Title: Miracle in Smallville (Part 2 of 4)
Authors: anidawehi and kyrdwyn
Pairing: Tim Drake/Conner Kent
Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 in this part, but we're thinking overall will be higher)
Genre: AU (non-hero)
Summary: A young businessman who has no time for holidays, or love, finds both when trapped in Smallville, Kansas, with a handsome young farmer.
Authors' Notes: Anidawehi was being subjected to Hallmark Christmas Movies. Kyrdwyn said she should write a Tim/Kon story in that fashion in self defense. Anidawehi insisted that Kyrdwyn help her write it. Kyrdwyn was not scared off by this.
Previous Parts: Part 1
When they finally made it back to the farm, after checking on the neighbors and clearing the roads as much as they could, and having lunch at the McGillicudy farm, Conner washed up and checked out the Christmas tree. Ma had put the star up this year; Pa would be happy.
"Conner, will you tell Tim dinner is ready?"
"Sure, Ma," Conner said, heading upstairs to see if Tim was in his room.
As he got closer to the guest room he heard Tim's voice coming through the open door, sounding both amused and regretful, "... tell Tam that as sorry as I am that I'm having to cancel dinner, she cannot have her present early. Fiancée or not she's got to follow the same rules everyone else does. ... That's why you get paid so much Bernard, and it's your own fault for letting her find out where you live."
Conner stopped and blinked. Fiancée?
Oh man, Tim was engaged and Conner had been flirting with him. That was so not cool. Never mind that Tim hadn't mentioned it. Conner should have thought of that - Tim having a girlfriend, fiancée, boyfriend, someone back home in Gotham waiting for him.
Conner clenched a fist. Tim had flirted back some, he thought. Tim didn't seem like one of those guys who came to Smallville and flirt wit the locals, so he could make fun of them later, back in Gotham. But then why was he flirting with Conner?
There was another pause in Tim's conversation then he said, "You can handle it, and you like her anyway. I'll talk to you later, have a good holiday Bernard."
Stepping outside the room, Tim paused when he saw Conner and smiled, waving his phone a little, "Sorry, I had to call my assistant to cancel dinner with a friend."
"Friend, huh?" Conner couldn't help asking. He forced himself to shrug. "I'm sure they understand being snowed in in back of nowhere, Kansas." He turned back to the stairs. "Ma sent me to tell you that dinner's ready."
Conner's attitude surprised Tim, making him pause a moment before reaching out to catch Conner's arm, "You heard the fiancée thing didn't you? It's an inside joke Conner, Tam and I have been friends for years. She was the first person I told that I'm gay. She was worried about how I would be perceived in the business world so when a reporter cornered her and asked a question about me Tam just blurted out the first thing that came to mind that would deflect attention from my sexuality. Imagine my surprise when I read the paper the next day and discovered that the two of us were going to be getting married."
Shaking his head wryly in fond amusement, he shook his head, "That didn't last long, of course, but she still uses it as leverage whenever she's trying to get me to do what she wants."
Conner stopped when Tim caught his arm. He turned and looked at Tim, trying to see the sincerity in his face. Tim looked and sounded sincere to Conner. He forced himself to relax.
"Sorry," he said. "It's just... too many times someone comes here and thinks we're dumb hicks to flirt with, a nice fling from their lives back home." Conner shrugged. "I hated thinking you might be one of them."
"For one thing, I do *not* think you are stupid, you wouldn't have gotten into Met U's business program if you were. And for another..." Tim paused and shook his head, "I'm not ... good at flings. Granted, I've never tried to have one, but I'm sure it wouldn't be any surprise to you to find out that people tend to keep distance between themselves and me."
Conner frowned. "Why? I mean, why would they keep their distance? You're a nice guy."
Smiling, grateful to Conner for honestly thinking that, Tim shrugged a little, "I'm very serious, I have a strange sense of humor, and most of the people I associate with frequently work for me. I'm not exactly the ideal fling."
Giving Tim a small smile, Conner said, "Well, I can understand that last as a reason for not getting into a fling, But the serious and strange sense of humor, those can be positive things about people, you know."
"That's what Bernard and Tam claim, but not everyone agrees," Tim shrugged and let that go, because he couldn't change himself enough to make everyone happy, no matter how hard he tried. Looking up at Conner, he asked, "Does it bother you when I show my attraction to you? I'll stop, if it does, and I promise the whole thing would be dropped completely, like it never happened."
Conner's mouth dropped open at the last. "What?! Does it... God, no, Tim. Trust me, it does not bother me when you show your attraction. I'm attracted to you, too; just pissed at myself for not thinking you might have someone at home before I started, um...." Conner trailed off, realizing he'd spilled too much.
Relaxing, Tim smiled ruefully, "I'm also abrasively direct at times, sorry. And I don't. I was kicking myself for not considering the same possibility where you're concerned, actually."
"Well, at least abrasively direct clears the air. And no, I broke up with my now ex-girlfriend before Thanksgiving." Not that Rose wasn't trying to win Conner back, but he knew they weren't going anywhere. Rose was too invested in her 'bad girl' image to settle down on the farm. Not that Tim was likely to settle down on the farm, but he had the advantage of Ma and Pa liking him. While they'd been polite to Rose, he knew they hadn't been thrilled about him dating her.
Nodding, his eyes relieved, Tim smiled a little, "Well, that does make me feel better about flirting with you."
"Good, 'cause I, uh, like flirting with you," Conner admitted
Laughing softly at how sheepish Conner sounded, Tim assured him teasingly, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you liked flirting with the city boy."
Conner smiled, then lifted a hand to stroke Tim's cheek. "Trying to protect my reputation?"
Smiling back, Tim tilted his head into the caress and shrugged, "I've heard they're important in small towns."
"Hmm. They are, but worth darkening for the right person..." He let his thumb stroke over Tim's skin.
That made Tim frown a little, lifting his hand to catch Conner's, "Conner... you know I can't stay..."
"I know," Conner said. "When the weather clears, you're back to Gotham. This would only be a holiday fling, for both of us." As much as he might like it to be more.
That stung, inexplicably, but Tim could hardly blame him for saying it, when it was the truth. Instead he searched Conner's eyes, asking, "Would that be good enough for you?" He actually wanted Conner to say yes, and no, which was ridiculous. It was stupid to want Conner to say he wanted more when they couldn't have it, and equally stupid that it would hurt if it *was* enough for Conner.
Conner thought about it. "It will have to be," he finally said, "no matter how much I want you to stay, you have a life and a family back in Gotham. Wouldn't be fair to make you choose."
Relaxing, Tim nodded, "Alright..." Then he paused and smiled a little sadly, "I guess I'm one of those city boys having a fling from his life back home after all."
"And I'm one of those country boys who is swayed by the handsome city boy," Conner said, leaning in toward Tim. "Let's be cliches together?"
"Handsome?" Tim asked, then laughed and tilted his head up invitingly, "I guess I could live with that."
"Handsome," Conner said, before pressing his lips to Tim's, feeling a little thrill run through him at the feel of Tim's lips against his.
For a second Tim just savored the contact, then he put his arms around Conner's shoulders to pull him a little closer and kissed back. It was... well he couldn't remember ever reacting so strongly to someone before, and that made him regret the idea of leaving just as much as everything else about Conner did.
Conner sighed into the kiss, and slid his arms around, hands splayed on Tim's back, holding him close. It felt good, having Tim pressed against him, in his arms. Opening his mouth, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing Tim's lips, seeking a way in.
Not hesitating to welcome the kiss, though it was hardly normal for him, Tim returned the kiss with equal intensity, only stopping when Pa called from downstairs, "Supper's on the table boys, better hurry before it gets cold."
Pulling back to regain his breath, Tim flushed and cleared his throat slightly, "We probably shouldn't keep them waiting..."
Conner would deny he whimpered a little as Tim pulled back, but he panted softly, trying to get his breathing under control. "Yeah-" he croaked a bit, then swallowed. "We shouldn't. Pa might come up to find us." He didn't *want* to let Tim go just yet, and his hands tightened on Tim's back.
"That would be... awkward," Tim said wryly, but still making no effort to move. It felt *so* good to have someone's arms around him, particularly when that someone was Conner. As short a time as they'd known one another, Tim had come to genuinely care about him, and to say that he was physically attracted to Conner would be an understatement of monumental proportions.
Conner couldn't help leaning in to nuzzle at Tim. "Very awkward." He gave another nuzzle, then forced himself to step back, letting one hand linger on Tim's cheek. "But after they go to bed...." he let his voice trail off, letting Tim decide if they'd make out some more later or not.
Tim smiled at him in answer and composed himself before starting down the stairs, "Funny that I'm not nearly as tired tonight as I expected to be..."
A few steps behind Tim, Conner stopped admiring Tim's backside and grinned. "Yeah, same here. Must have been the coffee this morning or something."
After dinner, Pa and Conner went to settle the cows. Conner headed straight for the kitchen and coffee when they were done, but Pa detoured to the closet and came in with a familiar game box in his hands. That led to a nicely cutthroat 'every Kent and Drake for themselves' version of trivia, with Ma knitting a scarf as she proceeded to, yet again, beat all of them.
Ma glanced at Tim and Conner, then at Pa. Pa finished his coffee and stood. "I'll take barn duty in the morning, Conner. Don't stay up too late playing video games or whatever it is kids your age do."
Ma got up as well, folding her knitting back into its basket. She kissed Conner on the cheek, and patted Tim's shoulder. "Goodnight, boys."
"Night Ma, night Pa," Conner said. He glanced at Tim, already looking forward to being alone with him.
"Goodnight Mrs. Kent, Mr. Kent," Tim nodded to them respectfully and when they were on the way up the stairs he observed, "Your grandmother is terrifyingly good at Trivial Pursuit."
Conner laughed. "She is. Our family plays it a lot. Last time my dad was here, he, Pa, and I teamed up against her. First time we'd beaten her in a while, and it still came down to the final question." He topped off his coffee, and Tim's, before turning off the coffee pot. "We could, ah, go into the living room?"
Taking his coffee cup with him, Tim stood and smiled at Conner, "That sounds good. I have to confess though, I haven't played video games in years."
"Well, we don't have to play video games, we could just sit and...talk," Conner said with a glance at Tim.
Laughing softly, Tim reached over to touch Conner's arm, "It was a euphemism Conner."
Conner blushed. "Ah, sorry." He set his mug down on one of the end tables and realized his angel ornament was on the table, waiting for him. He picked it up and turned to the still-lit tree, pondering where to place it. It was one of the few things he had left of his mother, as she had moved on from him and his dad and rarely contacted him.
Perching on the edge of the couch, Tim sipped his coffee before asking, "Is there a tradition behind that ornament?"
Conner found a place for it on the tree and hung it before turning back to Tim. "My mother gave it to me, before things got bad and she and Dad divorced. Guess I just like to have a reminder of when it wasn't bad between them, so I asked Ma to let me hang this one every year."
Nodding, Tim said softly, "I'm sorry."
Sitting down next to Tim, Conner gave him a small smile. "Thanks. It was a long time ago. She's decided Dad and I are part of her past she doesn't care to revisit." Conner shrugged. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring the mood down."
"It's fine, I want to know whatever you want tell me about yourself," Tim admitted, setting down his coffee to put a hand on Conner's knee.
"I'm not very interesting. Lived on the farm since I was ten, raised by Ma and Pa, Dad's a reporter for the Daily Planet, Mom's got her business and new husband and sometimes remembers I'm alive. Oh yeah," Conner said with a smile as he covered Tim's hand, "I've got this gorgeous Gotham boy sitting on my couch."
Blushing slightly, Tim shook his head with a wry smile, "You're going to make me vain, with compliments like that all the time."
"I'm only speaking the truth," Conner said, shifting to bring his free hand up to stroke Tim's cheek.
Closing his eyes briefly in pleasure, Tim opened them again to smile and tug Conner down for a warm kiss, "I'm glad you think so, especially given that I'm dressed in your clothes, which are three sizes too big and I'm sleep deprived and have huge bags under my eyes."
Conner chuckled. "Will I sound like too much of a Neanderthal if I say I like you wearing my clothing?" he asked before kissing Tim again.
If the way Tim returned his kiss was any indication, the answer was no. Sliding his arms around Conner's waist, feeling far more forward than he usually did, and far more comfortable with it, Tim leaned back just enough to murmur against Conner's lips, "I think I can live with that."
Conner hummed and smiled against Tim's lips before kissing him again, sliding his one hand from Tim's cheek to the back of his neck, fingers stroking lightly as his other hand slowly slid up to rest on Tim's thigh.
Smiling back, Tim relaxed into Conner's arms, happy to just be able to let things go and just *be* for once.
Kissing Tim was nothing like kissing anyone else. Better than kissing anyone else, Conner thought, pulling Tim in a little closer, wanting more contact. He refrained from pulling Tim into his lap, but only just. He barely allowed them a chance to breathe between kisses before kissing Tim again, and again.
He might not have been willing to go that far, but after a few minutes of not being quite close enough for his satisfaction, Tim was. Shifting he straddled Conner's lap, though he settled back to sit on Conner's thighs, leaving a little distance between them if Conner wasn't ready for it to get quite that close yet.
Conner groaned and pulled Tim in closer, against his chest, their groins together. He slid a hand under the sweatshirt to rest on Tim's skin, fingers stroking slowly. "Tim," he murmured in between kisses.
Humming softly in pleasure, Tim pressed as closely as he could, running his hands over Conner's shoulders, then flinching slightly when the rough fabric snagged at his blisters. He wasn't about to let that stop him from being with Conner though, so he continued to kiss Conner with only a brief hesitation, though he did curl his hands up into loose, protective, fists.
Conner finished the kiss and blinked at Tim, having felt the flinch. "What's wrong?"
Inhaling deeply to steady his breathing, Tim shook his head, "Nothing, your shirt is just a little rougher than my blisters appreciate."
Wincing in sympathy, Conner turned his head to press a soft kiss against Tim's hand. "We haven't use the salve on them. I can go get it for you."
"It's fine, they're just blisters," Tim said, shaking his head with a small smile.
"Yeah, but we don't want them to get worse," Conner said. "And if they're hurting you this bad, they will get worse."
Amused, Tim shook his head and sat back a little, "You're not going to let this go are you?"
Conner moved forward to brush a kiss over Tim's lips. "Nope. Better to treat the now than have them get bad. I speak from experience."
Sighing, Tim reluctantly moved off of Conner's lap, "Alright, you win."
Turning, Conner pressed another kiss to Tim's lips before getting up. He was back with the salve from the kitchen quickly (Ma kept jars in the bathrooms and the kitchen), settling next to Tim on the couch. He opened the jar and scooped out some. "May I have your hand?" he asked with a grin.
Tim's eyebrow twitched upward at Conner's phrasing, but he laid his hand in Conner's, opening his fingers to reveal several painful looking blisters, "What is in this stuff?"
Conner winced at seeing the blisters on Tim's hand. They should have treated this sooner. He warmed the salve in his hands a bit before starting to spread it on Tim's, letting it sit on the blisters before he started gently working it in. "It's a trade secret, according to the Ross family. They make it and sell it to the locals around here, have since Pa's grandpa was running the farm at least."
His hand twitched slightly in protest at the pain, but the sting faded quickly and Conner's work-hardened fingers felt good on his uninjured skin, "If it works as well as you claim I might have to see about acquiring the recipe from the Ross's for mass production."
Chuckling, Connor massaged Tim's unblistered skin and lightly went over the blisters with more salve. "I don't know how they'll take to that idea, but you can talk to them." He finished with Tim's hand and gestured for the other one.
Obediently switching hands, Tim shrugged lightly, "They'd get a fair amount of the profit, of course, but our bio-medical division could use more diversity, and a proven home remedy would be..." He paused, then gave Conner a rueful smile, "And you don't care about any of this do you? Sorry, it's just that Drake Industries is my entire life."
That, Conner thought, was rather sad, that Tim's work was his whole life. As he spread the salve on the hand and worked it in, Conner looked up at Tim. "Well, actually, I do care, because the Ross's will probably ask us if you're worth listening to. And you're right, having something that's already been tested in the field would be an advantage, but depending on how you market it, you might have to do more testing to appease the FDA, if they consider it to be medicinal."
Looking up at Conner in surprise, then shaking his head at himself slightly because Conner WAS studying business after all, Tim agreed, "There would certainly be testing and FDA approval, to be absolutely sure it's safe, just in case, but the marketing value of a home remedy that's been in use for generations would more than make up for the cost."
"Would you market it with their name? Or something else, something more proprietary to Drake Industries?" Conner was curious, now, as to what Tim was considering. He wouldn't discourage the Ross's from dealing with Drake Industries if they wanted to, but if he knew some of Tim's plan in advance, he could at least let the Ross's know if he was on the level.
Shrugging slightly, Tim flexed his hand, pleased to find that it already felt looser and less painful, "That would depend on the contract. There are advantages to both, of course, for both parties. The Drake name is obviously more well known, and thus more trusted, but using their name would emphasize the history of the product and allow more independence from the company as a whole. My parents would undoubtedly want to use our bio-medical brand name, but if the Ross's preferred to keep their names on the product I could make the case for them."
Idly still massaging Tim's other hand, Conner nodded. "I have no idea what they'll prefer, honestly, but I'd think you'd want to market it as a family recipe type thing. Boutique products that actually work have a nice market. Of course," Conner added, "that's presuming they're willing to enter into a deal at all."
Pleased that A: Conner was interested enough in his work to talk to him about it, and B: that Conner hadn't broken contact with him, Tim nodded, "I agree, but of course this isn't going to happen any time soon."
"Well," Conner said with a small smile, "I didn't think you would be trying to get them to sign a contract after church on Christmas Eve."
He stopped massaging, but didn't let Tim's hand go just yet. "How do your hands feel?"
"If I had access to my offices, I might," Tim answered with a smile that indicated he wasn't entirely serious. Flexing his fingers again he added, "There is certainly a market for this stuff, my hands feel much better already."
Conner smiled back. "I think you risk the wrath of Ma, which is worse than Khan, if you tried to do business on Christmas Eve. And I'm glad your hands feel better," he added, leaning in to lightly kiss Tim.
"I guess I'd better not then," Tim answered highly amused at the Star Trek reference, and rested his hand on the back of Conner's neck, encouraging him to stay for a longer kiss.
He didn't need a lot of encouragement to keep kissing Tim. He leaned in more, deepening the kiss, his free hand resting on Tim's thigh, thumb idly stroking the inside of Tim's thigh.
Sighing and reluctantly pulling away, because he knew it was too soon to do more than what they'd already been doing, fling or not, Tim said softly, "We should probably get some sleep, I'm sure you're going to have plenty to do in the morning."
Conner licked his lips, chasing the taste of Tim. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "You're right." He leaned in to nuzzle at Tim's cheek. "Wish we could do this all night, though," he whispered.
Laughing his quiet, breathy little laugh, Tim agreed, "Yeah, me too, but this way we'll have enough energy that you can show me how to build that snowman tomorrow."
Smiling against Tim's cheek, Conner chuckled. "All right," he said, pulling back to look at Tim. "You've convinced me. We have to teach you how to build a snowman tomorrow. Maybe a few snow angels, too."
"That sounds perfect," Tim answered, meeting Conner's eyes and smiling back helplessly.
Conner stroked a lock of hair behind Tim's ear and stood, offering a hand to Tim to help him stand. "I'll walk you to your room?" he offered shyly. "Well, after we clean up from our coffee," he added, knowing Ma and Pa would be upset if they didn't reset the coffee maker for morning.
"Well you *are* just across the hall..." Tim teased, but he appreciated the gesture, and picking up his mug, he took the offered hand and stood to head into the kitchen.
"I still try to be a gentlemen," Conner said as he follow Tim into the kitchen.
They cleaned up quickly, setting the coffee up for the morning, then walked upstairs. Outside the door to Tim's room, Conner leaned in to brush a chaste kiss over Tim's lips. "See you in the morning," he said with a small smile.
Returning the smile, Tim waited until Conner headed back to his room before he stepped back into the guest room, his smile lasting until long after he fell asleep.
Setting the last ball of snow on top of the other two, Tim packed a little snow around the base to keep it in place and stepped back to eye it critically, "It looks... lumpier than I expected."
Conner laughed. "You were expecting TV perfect?" He eyed the snowman and shrugged. "He looks fine to me."
"Well that *is* the only time I've seen one with any detail," Tim pointed out, rubbing hands together briskly to warm them in his borrowed gloves before looking around, "We need sticks for the arms, right?"
"Yep," Connor said. "There's some sticks in the firewood pile we can grab, rather than dig for them." He headed over that way, grabbing two of them and heading back. "Ma gave you the stuff for the eyes, yes?"
Nodding, Tim fished a couple of bright green tennis balls out of his pockets and said wryly, "I thought the eyes were supposed to be made of coal."
"Traditionally, yeah," Conner said as he stuck the arms in the side of the torso ball. "But we're fresh out of coal here, so tennis balls are a better choice. Go ahead and stick them in the head."
Shrugging, Tim scooped out little divots in the head to wedge the tennis balls in and shook his head with a smile, "It looks like someone just scared the hell out of it."
"Maybe it saw its shadow, and there's six weeks of spring on the way?" Conner asked with a silly grin as he looked at their creation. "He needs a hat."
"I believe predicting spring is a ground hog's job," Tim answered, and more quickly than one would expect a businessman to move, he plucked Conner's hat off his head and settled it on the snowman.
"Hey!" Conner shouted, reaching for his hat. But it was too late, the snowman looked both happy and freaked out, wearing Conner's hat.
Laughing softly, Tim adjusted the hat slightly and pulled the carrot from his pocket to give the snowman his nose, "There. He looks... well... certifiably insane, but it is my first effort."
Conner laughed with Tim. "Yeah, but hey, now you can say you've built a snowman."
He turned as a truck came up towards the house, going slowly in the accumulation that had settled overnight and that he and Pa hadn't plowed out yet. Conner frowned, recognizing the truck and the driver. Rose Wilson, his ex girlfriend. She and her father lived in town, where her Dad ran the motel.
Turning to follow Conner's gaze, Tim raised an eyebrow at the truck, "Expecting visitors?"
"Nope, and definitely not my ex. Wonder what brings her by?" he asked as the truck pulled up and Rose go out. Pale blonde, almost white, hair nearly blended into the landscape as she made her way over to Conner and Tim. She glanced at Tim, then back at Conner, clearly dismissing the other man. "Hey, Conner," she said. "Was going stir crazy in town, thought I'd see how you were faring."
"Hey, Rose," Conner said, not liking her dismissal of Tim. "I'm doing all right. Have you met Tim Drake? He got snowed in after your dad's motel filled up, so Ma's letting him stay here."
Going still for a moment at Rose's attitude, Tim's warm, relaxed demeanor vanished behind his politely cool business persona and he nodded to Rose and held out his hand, "Good afternoon."
Conner noticed Tim slip into business mode and inwardly flinched as Rose shook Tim's hand. "Rose Wilson," she said. "Wait, weren't you in town to survey the land, or something?"
Nodding, Tim tucked his arms behind his back rather than putting his hands back in his pockets, the latter being too casual at the moment. "I was here to evaluate whether or not Smallville is the right place for the new plant Drake Industries plans to build, yes."
Conner cringed inwardly as Rose nodded, then turned to Conner. "What say we take your truck and a lunch and head up to the point?"
Conner shook his head. He was not going with Rose up to the point, a.k.a the local make out spot, no matter what, but especially not when he had a guest. "Sorry, Rose, but I can't. I already have plans for the afternoon." He didn't quite glance at Tim, but by the way Rose's eyes narrowed, she suspected it.
For obvious reasons Tim didn't like Rose the moment he set eyes on her, and told himself that it was simply the fact that he could see how incompatible Conner and Rose were that made him tense up so much at Rose's transparent invitation. Normally he would have insisted that Conner not let his presence stop him from going, but he suspected that Conner didn't want to go anyway, and he certainly didn't want Conner to go, so he stayed silent and met Rose's eyes without flinching. He knew very well that his face was giving absolutely nothing away, not even Bernard could read him when he didn't want to be read, so whatever Rose was fishing for, she wouldn't get it from him.
"C'mon, Conner, surely you want to spend some time with your girlfriend?" Rose asked, giving Tim a look.
Conner shook his head. "We broke up, Rose. And I already have plans. It was nice to see you, Rose," he said pointedly. "Drive safely if you go up to the point. I don't think the road's been cleared, yet."
The door behind them opened and Ma stepped out, her voice warm with praise, "Why boys that snowman looks handsome. But he needs a scarf and Conner, dear, you need another hat; come on inside and get one before you catch a cold."
Conner's relief at having Ma come out was short lived as Rose snorted and looked at Tim. "He should go in, too. City boys have to watch themselves in these parts. They run into... problems so easily."
Conner narrowed his eyes. "Goodbye, Rose," he said, turning and gesturing for Tim to precede him to the porch.
"In a moment, I'd like to speak to Ms. Wilson," Tim answered, his tone mild and almost pleasant, though there was clearly no arguing with him.
Conner hesitated, not wanting to leave Tim alone, but he backed off a step or two. Rose looked bored, as she raised an eyebrow at Tim.
Tim waited patiently until Conner was in the house with the door closed before he addressed Rose, "I could hazard a guess as to why you have an issue with me, but I'm not going to justify it with a discussion. I am, however, going to inform you that threatening me is not only ineffective, but ill-advised. Disregarding the small army of lawyers who would be more than happy to get you thrown into prison for it, I am more than capable of taking care of myself, and I won't hesitate to do so. Keep that in mind while you drive back into town."
Conner had stood just inside the house, watching out the window until Rose left and Tim came back in. Ma had patted him on the shoulder and gone back to the kitchen. "I'm sorry," Conner said to Tim. "I didn't think she'd be so... we broke up a month ago, she just doesn't get that."
Tim shrugged, still tense and controlled, even though Rose was gone, "It's alright, I've dealt with more hostility in the boardroom a thousand times."
"Still, at least she's gone." Conner gave Tim a small smile. "Want to go back out and finish our snowman?"
While Tim didn't want Rose to ruin their afternoon, he also wasn't sure he'd be able to relax enough to enjoy it. Still, he was willing to try, so he nodded, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little in preparation to go back outside, "Sure. He needed a scarf, correct?"
"Yep," Conner said, reaching out to take Tim's hands in his own to help warm them up. "Ma's making hot chocolate for us when we're done."
Conner's gesture made Tim relax enough to smile, "That sounds perfect. Where can we find that scarf?"
Ma poked her head in from the kitchen, a red and black scarf in her hand, along with another hat for Conner. Conner didn't pull his hands away from Tim's, though he did blush. Ma merely put the hat on Conner's head and the scarf over his shoulder. "Don't stay out too much longer," she said before going back into the kitchen. Conner looked at Tim, a little embarrassed.
Tim was staring after Ma, stunned that she hadn't even blinked at them, then shifted his eyes to Conner and blushed as well. When they were safely back outside he said, rather neutrally, "Well... I didn't anticipate that little of a reaction."
"I didn't either," Conner admitted. "I mean, they know I've dated both guys and girls, but still...." He looked down at their hands, then pulled them up so he could kiss Tim's. "Ma must like you."
Squeezing Conner's hand, Tim admitted, softly, "I'm surprised she hasn't objected, she knows I won't be staying."
Ignoring the tiny jolt his heart made at that fact being brought up, Conner kissed Tim's hand again. "And she knows that I know that, too. Besides, if she objects, she won't say it to you, she'll tell me later. But somehow, I don't think she will." He let go of Tim's hand to stroke the back of Tim's cheek. Tim was still chilled, but not too bad. And Conner enjoyed the feel of Tim's skin too much to stop with just one stroke. "Ready to finish Frosty?"
Closing his eyes briefly at Conner's touch, Tim sighed softly, not liking the idea of leaving Conner behind any more than Conner liked the idea of Tim leaving. Still, they both had their own lives, this couldn't be anything more than it was. Opening his eyes again he nodded, "He just needs a scarf and buttons, right?"
Conner wished he could take a picture of Tim with his eyes closed, slightly leaning into his touch. Instead, he nodded at Tim's question and reached into his pocket, handing Tim the buttons. "Just that, and he'll be your first snowman."
Nodding, Tim trudged through the snow-stripped lawn to press the buttons into the snowman's front, carefully lined up and spaced out, observing as he did so, "I should take a picture of it. This will probably be the only snowman I ever make, it should be saved for posterity... and because Tam and Bernard won't believe it without proof."
Handing Tim the scarf when he was done with the buttons, Conner chuckled. "Pics or it didn't happen, huh? We can get some pictures, maybe even of you with the snowman."
"Exactly." Wrapping the scarf around the snowman's "neck" he arranged it so it hid the lumpiest bits of the body and stepped back to eye the finished product critically, "What do you think?"
Conner gave the snowman a once over, then beamed at Tim. "I think he looks great!"
Laughing softly, finally relaxing completely again, Tim pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved Conner toward the snowman, "Stand over there so I can get a picture of the two of you."
Conner grinned and went over, putting his arm around the snowman's "shoulder" and smiled at Tim and his camera.
Wishing he had his camera, rather than just his phone, Tim took the picture and smiled at it. Imperfect as it was technically, Conner's grin was clear and brilliant and his tanned skin stood out against the pure snow behind him, and Tim thought it might be the best picture he'd ever taken. Looking up he nodded at Conner, "That's good, thank you."
Conner kept grinning as he came forward, his hand out for Tim's camera. "We need one of you with him, too, so send to Bernard and Tam, right?"
Surprised that Conner remembered their names, Tim nodded and reluctantly handed his phone over after making sure that the picture of Conner was saved. He really didn't like getting his own picture taken, but Bernard and Tam would go nuts over a picture of him in borrowed farm clothes with a snowman he helped make, so he supposed he owed it to them for their concern over the storm. "You just push this button, it's set to automatically focus."
Walking over to the snowman he stood next to it, hands clasped loosely behind his back with his usual contained posture.
Conner frowned at Tim's formal posture. "C'mon," he said cajolingly. "He'll think you don't like him!"
"He's made of snow, Conner," Tim pointed out with wry amusement, but moved a step closer, as if that would fix it, "I doubt he thinks anything."
Conner shook his head, holding up the phone to take the picture. "You never know. That hat could be magic." He waited to see if Tim would smile before he took the picture.
Tim gave him an amused look, which was as close as he really got to a smile when he was about to get his picture taken, "If the hat was magic, wouldn't you have noticed while you were wearing it?"
Conner snapped the picture with Tim's amused look. "They're not magic on humans, Tim. Only on snowmen." He made sure the picture was saved before handing the camera back to Tim.
"Magic is activated by a lack of body heat?" Tim asked, laughter in his voice, tucking the phone away in a pocket and rubbing his hands together for warmth.
Chuckling, Conner leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow, picking it up and packing it into a ball. "Well, according to the show, magic activated by contact with special Christmas snow." He waited until Tim was frowning at that and tossed the snowball at him, aiming for Tim's cheek.
"What sh..." The snowball impacted before he could finish the question and for a moment Tim just stared at Conner, then he narrowed his eyes and deliberately crouched to gather up a double handful of snow.
Oh yeah, it was on. Conner crouched himself, making another snowball. He threw it at the same time as Tim threw his, and couldn't see if it impacted Tim as Tim's snowball hit Conner in the face. Conner laughed. Tim had a good arm. This was going to be fun.
Now that he was aware that the snowballs were coming, Tim thought he had a fair chance of dodging them, and managed to avoid the second one Conner lobbed at him, though his borrowed boots, too big by a whole size, made him stumble. Turning the stumble into a chance to grab a handful of snow, Tim threw it at Conner without packing it, using it to buy him time to duck behind the snowman for cover.
The snow in his face made him sputter, but Conner didn't stop making the snowball, but when he'd wiped off his face, Tim was hiding behind the snowman. "Frosty won't save you, Tim," Conner called out.
"Maybe not, but he'll provide excellent cover," Tim called back, crouching to start building a small arsenal of snowballs.
Conner chuckled, ducking around the corner of the porch for some cover, stockpiling his own ammunition. He peeked around the corner and lobbed one at Tim.
Absorbed as he was in making snowballs, Tim didn't see it coming and got pegged in the shoulder. Scooping up one of his snowballs, he leaned around the snowman and waited patiently until Conner peeked out again before he threw his snowball and ducked back behind the snowman.
Damn it, Tim was fast, Conner thought as he got nailed in the face again. He wiped the snow off his face and grabbed two snowballs, ready for rapid deployment as soon as Tim peeked out.
Laughing softly, the sound carrying over the snow, Tim picked up another snowball and moved to throw it from the other side of the snowman, trying to catch Conner off guard.
As soon as Tim peeked out, Conner threw both snowballs, then ducked back to avoid Tim's next throw.
Trying to avoid both snowballs got him hit with both and Tim took a moment to dust himself off before he eyed his remaining snowballs and deciding that a charge would be completely unexpected. Scooping up as many as he could carry with one arm, he darted out from behind the snowman and headed for the corner Conner was hiding behind, throwing snowballs the second he caught sight of him.
Conner peeked out again and jerked back in shock as he saw Tim charging at him, he didn't duck the first snowball, but then scooped up his remaining arsenal and jumped out from around the corner, throwing snowballs and Tim and trying to dodge Tim's throws (not always successfully) until Tim crashed into him.
Mentally cursing the over sized boots that made him so clumsy, Tim was completely unable to stop the two of them from falling into the snow, thankfully with him on top, as Conner would have flattened him. The startled look on Conner's face made him laugh though, "Oops?"
Conner reflexively closed his arms around Tim as they fell, landing on his back with a soft grunt. He laughed. "Just a slight oops," he said. "But it's a good way to end a snowball fight." He looked at Tim for another second, taking in the cold-reddened cheeks, the smile on Tim's face and the sparkle in Tim's eyes, and he couldn't stop himself. Conner let one hand move up to the back of Tim's head and gently pulled him into a kiss.
Bracing himself on one arm, Tim didn't hesitate to return the kiss, for once not thinking about his surroundings and who could see them. He wasn't at all ashamed of being attracted to Conner, but he normally would have been careful about Mrs. Kent seeing them, or worse, anyone from town; more concerned for Conner's reputation than anything.
Deepening the kiss, Conner wasn't thinking of anyone or anything other than Tim at that moment. Instead he was pulling Tim closer with his free hand, and unashamedly making pleased noises into the kiss.
The cold of the snow was a minor distraction, but Tim was more than willing to ignore it in favor of returning the kiss, letting his whole weight rest on Conner's chest.
God, Tim felt so good on top of him, Conner thought distractedly as he kissed Tim. He didn't notice the cold or the snow, so caught up in kissing Tim, but he couldn't help the little jump he made as a small clump of snow slid into his jacket and onto his bare skin.
The jump got Tim's attention, and he pulled away from the kiss after another moment, laughing softly, "This probably isn't the best place for this..."
Conner chuckled. "Sorry, snow got down my collar." He didn't move, though, just staring up at Tim, taking in the picture he presented against the winter blue sky. He stroked gloved fingers against the back of Tim's neck before pulling him into another kiss, heedless of the snow.
Returning the kiss, Tim lingered for a moment, but lifted his head after a couple of minutes and pushed himself up, offering Conner a hand up, "Come on, it's too cold out here for this, I don't want you to get sick."
Sighing, Conner let himself be helped up and reached out to brush snow off Tim. "Don't want you getting sick, either," he said.
When they were relatively free of snow, they walked back to the farmhouse, Tim's hand in Conner's. Inside, Krypto greeted both of them with licks and enthusiastic woofs before Conner got him calmed down. He could hear Ma in the living room, talking to someone on the phone, so once they were shed of their coats, he led Tim into the kitchen, pouring hot chocolate for them both. "Somehow, hot chocolate always tastes better after you've been playing in the snow."
Feeling the cold now that contact with Conner was no longer distracting him, Tim rubbed his hands together and leaned against the counter next to where Conner was working, "Probably because you're frozen stiff."
Conner handed a mug to Tim. "That is entirely possible," he said, taking his own mug and leaning against the counter next to Tim. He held up his mug for a toast. "To your first snowman," he said with a smile.
Touching his mug to Conner's Tim smiled, "To my first snowman... he made an excellent shelter from snowballs."
Taking a sip, Conner couldn't keep the smile off his face. "He did. Though the porch wasn't that bad, either," he said loyally.
"It wasn't," Tim agreed, wrapping his hands around his mug to warm them faster, "That's why I felt taking a more aggressive tactic was called for."
Conner glanced over at Tim. "You won't hear me complain about the results," he said softly.
Leaning over against Conner's side, Tim smiled a little, "Me either."
It took quite some time and determination, but Martha Kent was pleased when she finally managed to get through to Tim's assistant, and watched the boys playing in the snow while she waited for him to answer a gentle smile on her face.
Glancing up from his computer when the phone rang, Bernard frowned when an unfamiliar number popped up on the caller ID. Reaching for his headset, he hit the button to answer the phone. "Drake Industries, this is Bernard."
"Good evening, is this Bernard Dowd, Timothy Drake's assistant?" Martha asked hopefully, smiling when she saw the boys throwing snowballs at one another outside.
"Yes, ma'am, it is. How may I assist you?" Bernard turned back to his computer, running down Tim's schedule for the week, wondering if this was another meeting that would have to be postponed due to Tim being stuck in Surrealville, Kansas.
Her relieved sigh was audible over the phone, and her tone turned warm, "Oh good, I was afraid I would never get a hold of you. My name is Martha Kent, dear. Tim is staying with my family here in Smallville. I was hoping you could help me with something..."
Bernard sat up, turning toward the phone and grabbing his pen to jot down the number on the caller ID, just for reference. This sounded like it could be an interesting conversation, if the lady Tim was staying with was calling Gotham. "Whatever he broke, ma'am, I assure you he can pay for it," Bernard said with a hint of humor in his voice.
Laughing Martha shook her head, "Oh no dear, he hasn't broken a thing. I just hoped you could tell me his favorite color. You see, he'll be here over the holiday and I know he's Jewish, but it would be a terrible shame if he didn't have any gifts to open on Christmas. I'd like to make him something."
That momentarily stunned Bernard speechless. He knew, from being Tim's friend for a long time, as well as his assistant, that Tim's own mother sometimes forgot holidays and birthdays, but this woman, who barely knew Tim, wanted to make him a present so he didn't feel left out on Christmas? Tim was right, Smallville was the ideal small town. "It's blue, ma'am. But the darker shades, not the lighter ones. He's not fond of pastels, really."
Smiling Martha shifted so she absolutely couldn't be seen from outside when Conner and Tim started kissing, her tone going soft and fond when she answered, "Wonderful, I have just the right yarn, it'll be lovely with his eyes. We've become rather fond of Tim, we would all feel just awful if we couldn't make his holiday special, especially Conner."
"Conner, your grandson?" Bernard asked. Tim had mention the family he was staying with had a grandson. One that might be close to Tim's age, Bernard hoped. Tim needed more friends his own age. "If I can be blunt, ma'am, just taking Tim in is making his holiday special. He's too often alone on holidays, though I try to drag him to my parent's at least one holiday a year so he's not alone."
"Yes, Conner's my grandson... he and Tim have gotten quite close," There was an element of laughter in her voice, given that at the moment Tim and Conner were cuddling on her front lawn. She went more serious as she went on, "We couldn't very well leave him to be alone, and I'm glad we didn't. He's a wonderful young man, we would have been missing out."
"Oh?" Bernard asked leadingly. After all, there was close and then there was *close*. Bernard was hoping for the latter, if possible. If not, well, at least Tim might have someone else to call friend. "He's the best boss I've worked for, and I wish more people thought like you, ma'am," he said, probably overstepping his bounds, but no one was around to him to hear.
Martha considered for a moment, then decided that she trusted him, "Conner's going to be heartbroken when Tim leaves, and if I'm not mistaken, Tim won't be terribly pleased either. I'm rather hoping that they decide that distance isn't an impediment to a relationship."
He'd been right, Tim and this Conner were *close*. Bernard smiled. "If it's something Tim really wants to hold onto, he'll find a way, ma'am. He just doesn't always apply that to people, unless they're important to him."
"Well I hope you'll encourage him to apply it in this case," Martha said, moving further from the kitchen as the boys came inside, "I've never seen Conner so happy with someone, and I get the impression Tim doesn't usually relax so much either."
Bernard raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am, if you've actually gotten Tim to relax, I think I should put you on the payroll."
"I recommend homemade apple pie, plenty of hot coco and good company, and restricting his access to work," Martha suggested, warmth in her voice.
Bernard couldn't help laughing. "All right, sounds like I should encourage him not to come back to Gotham, then." He sobered at that. "I should tell you, his parents had me put a meeting with them on his schedule for the 28th. They're expecting him back from Smallville before then. They've looked at the weather and since it's supposed to be clear by the 26th, they've told me to call him and tell him to be at that meeting." He glanced around the work area, then lowered his voice. "They wanted him home the 27th for the meeting, but I managed to convince them it would probably take an extra day to clear the roads and airfield."
Frowning, because she was getting the impression that this wasn't a good thing, Martha ventured, "It sounds as if this isn't because they're concerned for him..."
Sighing, Bernard shook his head, though he knew Mrs. Kent couldn't see him. "They want to meet on the proposed plant site and make a decision before the new year."
Martha blinked in surprise, glancing over toward the kitchen where she could hear Tim and Conner talking softly, "I see. Well. I suppose it would be nice for Tim to spend New Years night with his friends."
"Tam and I will make sure he's not alone for New Year's Eve, ma'am." Bernard meant it. They had already talked about dragging Tim to dinner and a movie and a sleepover at Tam's apartment that night, and Bernard suspected now that Tim might really need his friends.
Sighing softly, Martha nodded, "I'm very glad to hear that Bernard. Thank you. It's very nice to know that he won't be alone. In the mean time, we'll do our best to take care of him for you."
"Thank *you*, ma'am," Bernard said. "I'm glad Tim is staying with you instead of at some motel or church basement."
"So are we," Martha answered softly, then took a deep breath and added more briskly, "I suppose I should let you go, and get started on lunch. I expect you'll call if there's anything we can do for Tim, or for yourself." It was phrased as a question, but stated as a fact, as she was used to obedience to her gentle orders.
"I will, ma'am." He hesitated. "Ma'am, I don't know what you traditionally cook for Christmas Eve, but I do know that Tim is very fond of Shepherd's Pie. His family cook used to make it for him a lot. It might be a nice surprise for him."
Smiling, her tone going even warmer, Martha told him, "I'll do that, thank you Bernard. I hope you have a good holiday as well."
"You're welcome, ma'am, and Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas Bernard," Pleased with the call, and the majority of the information she got from it, Martha hung up and headed into the kitchen, planning lunch and making a mental list of the ingredients for Shepherd's pie she had on hand.
Part Three
Authors: anidawehi and kyrdwyn
Pairing: Tim Drake/Conner Kent
Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 in this part, but we're thinking overall will be higher)
Genre: AU (non-hero)
Summary: A young businessman who has no time for holidays, or love, finds both when trapped in Smallville, Kansas, with a handsome young farmer.
Authors' Notes: Anidawehi was being subjected to Hallmark Christmas Movies. Kyrdwyn said she should write a Tim/Kon story in that fashion in self defense. Anidawehi insisted that Kyrdwyn help her write it. Kyrdwyn was not scared off by this.
Previous Parts: Part 1
When they finally made it back to the farm, after checking on the neighbors and clearing the roads as much as they could, and having lunch at the McGillicudy farm, Conner washed up and checked out the Christmas tree. Ma had put the star up this year; Pa would be happy.
"Conner, will you tell Tim dinner is ready?"
"Sure, Ma," Conner said, heading upstairs to see if Tim was in his room.
As he got closer to the guest room he heard Tim's voice coming through the open door, sounding both amused and regretful, "... tell Tam that as sorry as I am that I'm having to cancel dinner, she cannot have her present early. Fiancée or not she's got to follow the same rules everyone else does. ... That's why you get paid so much Bernard, and it's your own fault for letting her find out where you live."
Conner stopped and blinked. Fiancée?
Oh man, Tim was engaged and Conner had been flirting with him. That was so not cool. Never mind that Tim hadn't mentioned it. Conner should have thought of that - Tim having a girlfriend, fiancée, boyfriend, someone back home in Gotham waiting for him.
Conner clenched a fist. Tim had flirted back some, he thought. Tim didn't seem like one of those guys who came to Smallville and flirt wit the locals, so he could make fun of them later, back in Gotham. But then why was he flirting with Conner?
There was another pause in Tim's conversation then he said, "You can handle it, and you like her anyway. I'll talk to you later, have a good holiday Bernard."
Stepping outside the room, Tim paused when he saw Conner and smiled, waving his phone a little, "Sorry, I had to call my assistant to cancel dinner with a friend."
"Friend, huh?" Conner couldn't help asking. He forced himself to shrug. "I'm sure they understand being snowed in in back of nowhere, Kansas." He turned back to the stairs. "Ma sent me to tell you that dinner's ready."
Conner's attitude surprised Tim, making him pause a moment before reaching out to catch Conner's arm, "You heard the fiancée thing didn't you? It's an inside joke Conner, Tam and I have been friends for years. She was the first person I told that I'm gay. She was worried about how I would be perceived in the business world so when a reporter cornered her and asked a question about me Tam just blurted out the first thing that came to mind that would deflect attention from my sexuality. Imagine my surprise when I read the paper the next day and discovered that the two of us were going to be getting married."
Shaking his head wryly in fond amusement, he shook his head, "That didn't last long, of course, but she still uses it as leverage whenever she's trying to get me to do what she wants."
Conner stopped when Tim caught his arm. He turned and looked at Tim, trying to see the sincerity in his face. Tim looked and sounded sincere to Conner. He forced himself to relax.
"Sorry," he said. "It's just... too many times someone comes here and thinks we're dumb hicks to flirt with, a nice fling from their lives back home." Conner shrugged. "I hated thinking you might be one of them."
"For one thing, I do *not* think you are stupid, you wouldn't have gotten into Met U's business program if you were. And for another..." Tim paused and shook his head, "I'm not ... good at flings. Granted, I've never tried to have one, but I'm sure it wouldn't be any surprise to you to find out that people tend to keep distance between themselves and me."
Conner frowned. "Why? I mean, why would they keep their distance? You're a nice guy."
Smiling, grateful to Conner for honestly thinking that, Tim shrugged a little, "I'm very serious, I have a strange sense of humor, and most of the people I associate with frequently work for me. I'm not exactly the ideal fling."
Giving Tim a small smile, Conner said, "Well, I can understand that last as a reason for not getting into a fling, But the serious and strange sense of humor, those can be positive things about people, you know."
"That's what Bernard and Tam claim, but not everyone agrees," Tim shrugged and let that go, because he couldn't change himself enough to make everyone happy, no matter how hard he tried. Looking up at Conner, he asked, "Does it bother you when I show my attraction to you? I'll stop, if it does, and I promise the whole thing would be dropped completely, like it never happened."
Conner's mouth dropped open at the last. "What?! Does it... God, no, Tim. Trust me, it does not bother me when you show your attraction. I'm attracted to you, too; just pissed at myself for not thinking you might have someone at home before I started, um...." Conner trailed off, realizing he'd spilled too much.
Relaxing, Tim smiled ruefully, "I'm also abrasively direct at times, sorry. And I don't. I was kicking myself for not considering the same possibility where you're concerned, actually."
"Well, at least abrasively direct clears the air. And no, I broke up with my now ex-girlfriend before Thanksgiving." Not that Rose wasn't trying to win Conner back, but he knew they weren't going anywhere. Rose was too invested in her 'bad girl' image to settle down on the farm. Not that Tim was likely to settle down on the farm, but he had the advantage of Ma and Pa liking him. While they'd been polite to Rose, he knew they hadn't been thrilled about him dating her.
Nodding, his eyes relieved, Tim smiled a little, "Well, that does make me feel better about flirting with you."
"Good, 'cause I, uh, like flirting with you," Conner admitted
Laughing softly at how sheepish Conner sounded, Tim assured him teasingly, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you liked flirting with the city boy."
Conner smiled, then lifted a hand to stroke Tim's cheek. "Trying to protect my reputation?"
Smiling back, Tim tilted his head into the caress and shrugged, "I've heard they're important in small towns."
"Hmm. They are, but worth darkening for the right person..." He let his thumb stroke over Tim's skin.
That made Tim frown a little, lifting his hand to catch Conner's, "Conner... you know I can't stay..."
"I know," Conner said. "When the weather clears, you're back to Gotham. This would only be a holiday fling, for both of us." As much as he might like it to be more.
That stung, inexplicably, but Tim could hardly blame him for saying it, when it was the truth. Instead he searched Conner's eyes, asking, "Would that be good enough for you?" He actually wanted Conner to say yes, and no, which was ridiculous. It was stupid to want Conner to say he wanted more when they couldn't have it, and equally stupid that it would hurt if it *was* enough for Conner.
Conner thought about it. "It will have to be," he finally said, "no matter how much I want you to stay, you have a life and a family back in Gotham. Wouldn't be fair to make you choose."
Relaxing, Tim nodded, "Alright..." Then he paused and smiled a little sadly, "I guess I'm one of those city boys having a fling from his life back home after all."
"And I'm one of those country boys who is swayed by the handsome city boy," Conner said, leaning in toward Tim. "Let's be cliches together?"
"Handsome?" Tim asked, then laughed and tilted his head up invitingly, "I guess I could live with that."
"Handsome," Conner said, before pressing his lips to Tim's, feeling a little thrill run through him at the feel of Tim's lips against his.
For a second Tim just savored the contact, then he put his arms around Conner's shoulders to pull him a little closer and kissed back. It was... well he couldn't remember ever reacting so strongly to someone before, and that made him regret the idea of leaving just as much as everything else about Conner did.
Conner sighed into the kiss, and slid his arms around, hands splayed on Tim's back, holding him close. It felt good, having Tim pressed against him, in his arms. Opening his mouth, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing Tim's lips, seeking a way in.
Not hesitating to welcome the kiss, though it was hardly normal for him, Tim returned the kiss with equal intensity, only stopping when Pa called from downstairs, "Supper's on the table boys, better hurry before it gets cold."
Pulling back to regain his breath, Tim flushed and cleared his throat slightly, "We probably shouldn't keep them waiting..."
Conner would deny he whimpered a little as Tim pulled back, but he panted softly, trying to get his breathing under control. "Yeah-" he croaked a bit, then swallowed. "We shouldn't. Pa might come up to find us." He didn't *want* to let Tim go just yet, and his hands tightened on Tim's back.
"That would be... awkward," Tim said wryly, but still making no effort to move. It felt *so* good to have someone's arms around him, particularly when that someone was Conner. As short a time as they'd known one another, Tim had come to genuinely care about him, and to say that he was physically attracted to Conner would be an understatement of monumental proportions.
Conner couldn't help leaning in to nuzzle at Tim. "Very awkward." He gave another nuzzle, then forced himself to step back, letting one hand linger on Tim's cheek. "But after they go to bed...." he let his voice trail off, letting Tim decide if they'd make out some more later or not.
Tim smiled at him in answer and composed himself before starting down the stairs, "Funny that I'm not nearly as tired tonight as I expected to be..."
A few steps behind Tim, Conner stopped admiring Tim's backside and grinned. "Yeah, same here. Must have been the coffee this morning or something."
After dinner, Pa and Conner went to settle the cows. Conner headed straight for the kitchen and coffee when they were done, but Pa detoured to the closet and came in with a familiar game box in his hands. That led to a nicely cutthroat 'every Kent and Drake for themselves' version of trivia, with Ma knitting a scarf as she proceeded to, yet again, beat all of them.
Ma glanced at Tim and Conner, then at Pa. Pa finished his coffee and stood. "I'll take barn duty in the morning, Conner. Don't stay up too late playing video games or whatever it is kids your age do."
Ma got up as well, folding her knitting back into its basket. She kissed Conner on the cheek, and patted Tim's shoulder. "Goodnight, boys."
"Night Ma, night Pa," Conner said. He glanced at Tim, already looking forward to being alone with him.
"Goodnight Mrs. Kent, Mr. Kent," Tim nodded to them respectfully and when they were on the way up the stairs he observed, "Your grandmother is terrifyingly good at Trivial Pursuit."
Conner laughed. "She is. Our family plays it a lot. Last time my dad was here, he, Pa, and I teamed up against her. First time we'd beaten her in a while, and it still came down to the final question." He topped off his coffee, and Tim's, before turning off the coffee pot. "We could, ah, go into the living room?"
Taking his coffee cup with him, Tim stood and smiled at Conner, "That sounds good. I have to confess though, I haven't played video games in years."
"Well, we don't have to play video games, we could just sit and...talk," Conner said with a glance at Tim.
Laughing softly, Tim reached over to touch Conner's arm, "It was a euphemism Conner."
Conner blushed. "Ah, sorry." He set his mug down on one of the end tables and realized his angel ornament was on the table, waiting for him. He picked it up and turned to the still-lit tree, pondering where to place it. It was one of the few things he had left of his mother, as she had moved on from him and his dad and rarely contacted him.
Perching on the edge of the couch, Tim sipped his coffee before asking, "Is there a tradition behind that ornament?"
Conner found a place for it on the tree and hung it before turning back to Tim. "My mother gave it to me, before things got bad and she and Dad divorced. Guess I just like to have a reminder of when it wasn't bad between them, so I asked Ma to let me hang this one every year."
Nodding, Tim said softly, "I'm sorry."
Sitting down next to Tim, Conner gave him a small smile. "Thanks. It was a long time ago. She's decided Dad and I are part of her past she doesn't care to revisit." Conner shrugged. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring the mood down."
"It's fine, I want to know whatever you want tell me about yourself," Tim admitted, setting down his coffee to put a hand on Conner's knee.
"I'm not very interesting. Lived on the farm since I was ten, raised by Ma and Pa, Dad's a reporter for the Daily Planet, Mom's got her business and new husband and sometimes remembers I'm alive. Oh yeah," Conner said with a smile as he covered Tim's hand, "I've got this gorgeous Gotham boy sitting on my couch."
Blushing slightly, Tim shook his head with a wry smile, "You're going to make me vain, with compliments like that all the time."
"I'm only speaking the truth," Conner said, shifting to bring his free hand up to stroke Tim's cheek.
Closing his eyes briefly in pleasure, Tim opened them again to smile and tug Conner down for a warm kiss, "I'm glad you think so, especially given that I'm dressed in your clothes, which are three sizes too big and I'm sleep deprived and have huge bags under my eyes."
Conner chuckled. "Will I sound like too much of a Neanderthal if I say I like you wearing my clothing?" he asked before kissing Tim again.
If the way Tim returned his kiss was any indication, the answer was no. Sliding his arms around Conner's waist, feeling far more forward than he usually did, and far more comfortable with it, Tim leaned back just enough to murmur against Conner's lips, "I think I can live with that."
Conner hummed and smiled against Tim's lips before kissing him again, sliding his one hand from Tim's cheek to the back of his neck, fingers stroking lightly as his other hand slowly slid up to rest on Tim's thigh.
Smiling back, Tim relaxed into Conner's arms, happy to just be able to let things go and just *be* for once.
Kissing Tim was nothing like kissing anyone else. Better than kissing anyone else, Conner thought, pulling Tim in a little closer, wanting more contact. He refrained from pulling Tim into his lap, but only just. He barely allowed them a chance to breathe between kisses before kissing Tim again, and again.
He might not have been willing to go that far, but after a few minutes of not being quite close enough for his satisfaction, Tim was. Shifting he straddled Conner's lap, though he settled back to sit on Conner's thighs, leaving a little distance between them if Conner wasn't ready for it to get quite that close yet.
Conner groaned and pulled Tim in closer, against his chest, their groins together. He slid a hand under the sweatshirt to rest on Tim's skin, fingers stroking slowly. "Tim," he murmured in between kisses.
Humming softly in pleasure, Tim pressed as closely as he could, running his hands over Conner's shoulders, then flinching slightly when the rough fabric snagged at his blisters. He wasn't about to let that stop him from being with Conner though, so he continued to kiss Conner with only a brief hesitation, though he did curl his hands up into loose, protective, fists.
Conner finished the kiss and blinked at Tim, having felt the flinch. "What's wrong?"
Inhaling deeply to steady his breathing, Tim shook his head, "Nothing, your shirt is just a little rougher than my blisters appreciate."
Wincing in sympathy, Conner turned his head to press a soft kiss against Tim's hand. "We haven't use the salve on them. I can go get it for you."
"It's fine, they're just blisters," Tim said, shaking his head with a small smile.
"Yeah, but we don't want them to get worse," Conner said. "And if they're hurting you this bad, they will get worse."
Amused, Tim shook his head and sat back a little, "You're not going to let this go are you?"
Conner moved forward to brush a kiss over Tim's lips. "Nope. Better to treat the now than have them get bad. I speak from experience."
Sighing, Tim reluctantly moved off of Conner's lap, "Alright, you win."
Turning, Conner pressed another kiss to Tim's lips before getting up. He was back with the salve from the kitchen quickly (Ma kept jars in the bathrooms and the kitchen), settling next to Tim on the couch. He opened the jar and scooped out some. "May I have your hand?" he asked with a grin.
Tim's eyebrow twitched upward at Conner's phrasing, but he laid his hand in Conner's, opening his fingers to reveal several painful looking blisters, "What is in this stuff?"
Conner winced at seeing the blisters on Tim's hand. They should have treated this sooner. He warmed the salve in his hands a bit before starting to spread it on Tim's, letting it sit on the blisters before he started gently working it in. "It's a trade secret, according to the Ross family. They make it and sell it to the locals around here, have since Pa's grandpa was running the farm at least."
His hand twitched slightly in protest at the pain, but the sting faded quickly and Conner's work-hardened fingers felt good on his uninjured skin, "If it works as well as you claim I might have to see about acquiring the recipe from the Ross's for mass production."
Chuckling, Connor massaged Tim's unblistered skin and lightly went over the blisters with more salve. "I don't know how they'll take to that idea, but you can talk to them." He finished with Tim's hand and gestured for the other one.
Obediently switching hands, Tim shrugged lightly, "They'd get a fair amount of the profit, of course, but our bio-medical division could use more diversity, and a proven home remedy would be..." He paused, then gave Conner a rueful smile, "And you don't care about any of this do you? Sorry, it's just that Drake Industries is my entire life."
That, Conner thought, was rather sad, that Tim's work was his whole life. As he spread the salve on the hand and worked it in, Conner looked up at Tim. "Well, actually, I do care, because the Ross's will probably ask us if you're worth listening to. And you're right, having something that's already been tested in the field would be an advantage, but depending on how you market it, you might have to do more testing to appease the FDA, if they consider it to be medicinal."
Looking up at Conner in surprise, then shaking his head at himself slightly because Conner WAS studying business after all, Tim agreed, "There would certainly be testing and FDA approval, to be absolutely sure it's safe, just in case, but the marketing value of a home remedy that's been in use for generations would more than make up for the cost."
"Would you market it with their name? Or something else, something more proprietary to Drake Industries?" Conner was curious, now, as to what Tim was considering. He wouldn't discourage the Ross's from dealing with Drake Industries if they wanted to, but if he knew some of Tim's plan in advance, he could at least let the Ross's know if he was on the level.
Shrugging slightly, Tim flexed his hand, pleased to find that it already felt looser and less painful, "That would depend on the contract. There are advantages to both, of course, for both parties. The Drake name is obviously more well known, and thus more trusted, but using their name would emphasize the history of the product and allow more independence from the company as a whole. My parents would undoubtedly want to use our bio-medical brand name, but if the Ross's preferred to keep their names on the product I could make the case for them."
Idly still massaging Tim's other hand, Conner nodded. "I have no idea what they'll prefer, honestly, but I'd think you'd want to market it as a family recipe type thing. Boutique products that actually work have a nice market. Of course," Conner added, "that's presuming they're willing to enter into a deal at all."
Pleased that A: Conner was interested enough in his work to talk to him about it, and B: that Conner hadn't broken contact with him, Tim nodded, "I agree, but of course this isn't going to happen any time soon."
"Well," Conner said with a small smile, "I didn't think you would be trying to get them to sign a contract after church on Christmas Eve."
He stopped massaging, but didn't let Tim's hand go just yet. "How do your hands feel?"
"If I had access to my offices, I might," Tim answered with a smile that indicated he wasn't entirely serious. Flexing his fingers again he added, "There is certainly a market for this stuff, my hands feel much better already."
Conner smiled back. "I think you risk the wrath of Ma, which is worse than Khan, if you tried to do business on Christmas Eve. And I'm glad your hands feel better," he added, leaning in to lightly kiss Tim.
"I guess I'd better not then," Tim answered highly amused at the Star Trek reference, and rested his hand on the back of Conner's neck, encouraging him to stay for a longer kiss.
He didn't need a lot of encouragement to keep kissing Tim. He leaned in more, deepening the kiss, his free hand resting on Tim's thigh, thumb idly stroking the inside of Tim's thigh.
Sighing and reluctantly pulling away, because he knew it was too soon to do more than what they'd already been doing, fling or not, Tim said softly, "We should probably get some sleep, I'm sure you're going to have plenty to do in the morning."
Conner licked his lips, chasing the taste of Tim. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "You're right." He leaned in to nuzzle at Tim's cheek. "Wish we could do this all night, though," he whispered.
Laughing his quiet, breathy little laugh, Tim agreed, "Yeah, me too, but this way we'll have enough energy that you can show me how to build that snowman tomorrow."
Smiling against Tim's cheek, Conner chuckled. "All right," he said, pulling back to look at Tim. "You've convinced me. We have to teach you how to build a snowman tomorrow. Maybe a few snow angels, too."
"That sounds perfect," Tim answered, meeting Conner's eyes and smiling back helplessly.
Conner stroked a lock of hair behind Tim's ear and stood, offering a hand to Tim to help him stand. "I'll walk you to your room?" he offered shyly. "Well, after we clean up from our coffee," he added, knowing Ma and Pa would be upset if they didn't reset the coffee maker for morning.
"Well you *are* just across the hall..." Tim teased, but he appreciated the gesture, and picking up his mug, he took the offered hand and stood to head into the kitchen.
"I still try to be a gentlemen," Conner said as he follow Tim into the kitchen.
They cleaned up quickly, setting the coffee up for the morning, then walked upstairs. Outside the door to Tim's room, Conner leaned in to brush a chaste kiss over Tim's lips. "See you in the morning," he said with a small smile.
Returning the smile, Tim waited until Conner headed back to his room before he stepped back into the guest room, his smile lasting until long after he fell asleep.
Setting the last ball of snow on top of the other two, Tim packed a little snow around the base to keep it in place and stepped back to eye it critically, "It looks... lumpier than I expected."
Conner laughed. "You were expecting TV perfect?" He eyed the snowman and shrugged. "He looks fine to me."
"Well that *is* the only time I've seen one with any detail," Tim pointed out, rubbing hands together briskly to warm them in his borrowed gloves before looking around, "We need sticks for the arms, right?"
"Yep," Connor said. "There's some sticks in the firewood pile we can grab, rather than dig for them." He headed over that way, grabbing two of them and heading back. "Ma gave you the stuff for the eyes, yes?"
Nodding, Tim fished a couple of bright green tennis balls out of his pockets and said wryly, "I thought the eyes were supposed to be made of coal."
"Traditionally, yeah," Conner said as he stuck the arms in the side of the torso ball. "But we're fresh out of coal here, so tennis balls are a better choice. Go ahead and stick them in the head."
Shrugging, Tim scooped out little divots in the head to wedge the tennis balls in and shook his head with a smile, "It looks like someone just scared the hell out of it."
"Maybe it saw its shadow, and there's six weeks of spring on the way?" Conner asked with a silly grin as he looked at their creation. "He needs a hat."
"I believe predicting spring is a ground hog's job," Tim answered, and more quickly than one would expect a businessman to move, he plucked Conner's hat off his head and settled it on the snowman.
"Hey!" Conner shouted, reaching for his hat. But it was too late, the snowman looked both happy and freaked out, wearing Conner's hat.
Laughing softly, Tim adjusted the hat slightly and pulled the carrot from his pocket to give the snowman his nose, "There. He looks... well... certifiably insane, but it is my first effort."
Conner laughed with Tim. "Yeah, but hey, now you can say you've built a snowman."
He turned as a truck came up towards the house, going slowly in the accumulation that had settled overnight and that he and Pa hadn't plowed out yet. Conner frowned, recognizing the truck and the driver. Rose Wilson, his ex girlfriend. She and her father lived in town, where her Dad ran the motel.
Turning to follow Conner's gaze, Tim raised an eyebrow at the truck, "Expecting visitors?"
"Nope, and definitely not my ex. Wonder what brings her by?" he asked as the truck pulled up and Rose go out. Pale blonde, almost white, hair nearly blended into the landscape as she made her way over to Conner and Tim. She glanced at Tim, then back at Conner, clearly dismissing the other man. "Hey, Conner," she said. "Was going stir crazy in town, thought I'd see how you were faring."
"Hey, Rose," Conner said, not liking her dismissal of Tim. "I'm doing all right. Have you met Tim Drake? He got snowed in after your dad's motel filled up, so Ma's letting him stay here."
Going still for a moment at Rose's attitude, Tim's warm, relaxed demeanor vanished behind his politely cool business persona and he nodded to Rose and held out his hand, "Good afternoon."
Conner noticed Tim slip into business mode and inwardly flinched as Rose shook Tim's hand. "Rose Wilson," she said. "Wait, weren't you in town to survey the land, or something?"
Nodding, Tim tucked his arms behind his back rather than putting his hands back in his pockets, the latter being too casual at the moment. "I was here to evaluate whether or not Smallville is the right place for the new plant Drake Industries plans to build, yes."
Conner cringed inwardly as Rose nodded, then turned to Conner. "What say we take your truck and a lunch and head up to the point?"
Conner shook his head. He was not going with Rose up to the point, a.k.a the local make out spot, no matter what, but especially not when he had a guest. "Sorry, Rose, but I can't. I already have plans for the afternoon." He didn't quite glance at Tim, but by the way Rose's eyes narrowed, she suspected it.
For obvious reasons Tim didn't like Rose the moment he set eyes on her, and told himself that it was simply the fact that he could see how incompatible Conner and Rose were that made him tense up so much at Rose's transparent invitation. Normally he would have insisted that Conner not let his presence stop him from going, but he suspected that Conner didn't want to go anyway, and he certainly didn't want Conner to go, so he stayed silent and met Rose's eyes without flinching. He knew very well that his face was giving absolutely nothing away, not even Bernard could read him when he didn't want to be read, so whatever Rose was fishing for, she wouldn't get it from him.
"C'mon, Conner, surely you want to spend some time with your girlfriend?" Rose asked, giving Tim a look.
Conner shook his head. "We broke up, Rose. And I already have plans. It was nice to see you, Rose," he said pointedly. "Drive safely if you go up to the point. I don't think the road's been cleared, yet."
The door behind them opened and Ma stepped out, her voice warm with praise, "Why boys that snowman looks handsome. But he needs a scarf and Conner, dear, you need another hat; come on inside and get one before you catch a cold."
Conner's relief at having Ma come out was short lived as Rose snorted and looked at Tim. "He should go in, too. City boys have to watch themselves in these parts. They run into... problems so easily."
Conner narrowed his eyes. "Goodbye, Rose," he said, turning and gesturing for Tim to precede him to the porch.
"In a moment, I'd like to speak to Ms. Wilson," Tim answered, his tone mild and almost pleasant, though there was clearly no arguing with him.
Conner hesitated, not wanting to leave Tim alone, but he backed off a step or two. Rose looked bored, as she raised an eyebrow at Tim.
Tim waited patiently until Conner was in the house with the door closed before he addressed Rose, "I could hazard a guess as to why you have an issue with me, but I'm not going to justify it with a discussion. I am, however, going to inform you that threatening me is not only ineffective, but ill-advised. Disregarding the small army of lawyers who would be more than happy to get you thrown into prison for it, I am more than capable of taking care of myself, and I won't hesitate to do so. Keep that in mind while you drive back into town."
Conner had stood just inside the house, watching out the window until Rose left and Tim came back in. Ma had patted him on the shoulder and gone back to the kitchen. "I'm sorry," Conner said to Tim. "I didn't think she'd be so... we broke up a month ago, she just doesn't get that."
Tim shrugged, still tense and controlled, even though Rose was gone, "It's alright, I've dealt with more hostility in the boardroom a thousand times."
"Still, at least she's gone." Conner gave Tim a small smile. "Want to go back out and finish our snowman?"
While Tim didn't want Rose to ruin their afternoon, he also wasn't sure he'd be able to relax enough to enjoy it. Still, he was willing to try, so he nodded, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little in preparation to go back outside, "Sure. He needed a scarf, correct?"
"Yep," Conner said, reaching out to take Tim's hands in his own to help warm them up. "Ma's making hot chocolate for us when we're done."
Conner's gesture made Tim relax enough to smile, "That sounds perfect. Where can we find that scarf?"
Ma poked her head in from the kitchen, a red and black scarf in her hand, along with another hat for Conner. Conner didn't pull his hands away from Tim's, though he did blush. Ma merely put the hat on Conner's head and the scarf over his shoulder. "Don't stay out too much longer," she said before going back into the kitchen. Conner looked at Tim, a little embarrassed.
Tim was staring after Ma, stunned that she hadn't even blinked at them, then shifted his eyes to Conner and blushed as well. When they were safely back outside he said, rather neutrally, "Well... I didn't anticipate that little of a reaction."
"I didn't either," Conner admitted. "I mean, they know I've dated both guys and girls, but still...." He looked down at their hands, then pulled them up so he could kiss Tim's. "Ma must like you."
Squeezing Conner's hand, Tim admitted, softly, "I'm surprised she hasn't objected, she knows I won't be staying."
Ignoring the tiny jolt his heart made at that fact being brought up, Conner kissed Tim's hand again. "And she knows that I know that, too. Besides, if she objects, she won't say it to you, she'll tell me later. But somehow, I don't think she will." He let go of Tim's hand to stroke the back of Tim's cheek. Tim was still chilled, but not too bad. And Conner enjoyed the feel of Tim's skin too much to stop with just one stroke. "Ready to finish Frosty?"
Closing his eyes briefly at Conner's touch, Tim sighed softly, not liking the idea of leaving Conner behind any more than Conner liked the idea of Tim leaving. Still, they both had their own lives, this couldn't be anything more than it was. Opening his eyes again he nodded, "He just needs a scarf and buttons, right?"
Conner wished he could take a picture of Tim with his eyes closed, slightly leaning into his touch. Instead, he nodded at Tim's question and reached into his pocket, handing Tim the buttons. "Just that, and he'll be your first snowman."
Nodding, Tim trudged through the snow-stripped lawn to press the buttons into the snowman's front, carefully lined up and spaced out, observing as he did so, "I should take a picture of it. This will probably be the only snowman I ever make, it should be saved for posterity... and because Tam and Bernard won't believe it without proof."
Handing Tim the scarf when he was done with the buttons, Conner chuckled. "Pics or it didn't happen, huh? We can get some pictures, maybe even of you with the snowman."
"Exactly." Wrapping the scarf around the snowman's "neck" he arranged it so it hid the lumpiest bits of the body and stepped back to eye the finished product critically, "What do you think?"
Conner gave the snowman a once over, then beamed at Tim. "I think he looks great!"
Laughing softly, finally relaxing completely again, Tim pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved Conner toward the snowman, "Stand over there so I can get a picture of the two of you."
Conner grinned and went over, putting his arm around the snowman's "shoulder" and smiled at Tim and his camera.
Wishing he had his camera, rather than just his phone, Tim took the picture and smiled at it. Imperfect as it was technically, Conner's grin was clear and brilliant and his tanned skin stood out against the pure snow behind him, and Tim thought it might be the best picture he'd ever taken. Looking up he nodded at Conner, "That's good, thank you."
Conner kept grinning as he came forward, his hand out for Tim's camera. "We need one of you with him, too, so send to Bernard and Tam, right?"
Surprised that Conner remembered their names, Tim nodded and reluctantly handed his phone over after making sure that the picture of Conner was saved. He really didn't like getting his own picture taken, but Bernard and Tam would go nuts over a picture of him in borrowed farm clothes with a snowman he helped make, so he supposed he owed it to them for their concern over the storm. "You just push this button, it's set to automatically focus."
Walking over to the snowman he stood next to it, hands clasped loosely behind his back with his usual contained posture.
Conner frowned at Tim's formal posture. "C'mon," he said cajolingly. "He'll think you don't like him!"
"He's made of snow, Conner," Tim pointed out with wry amusement, but moved a step closer, as if that would fix it, "I doubt he thinks anything."
Conner shook his head, holding up the phone to take the picture. "You never know. That hat could be magic." He waited to see if Tim would smile before he took the picture.
Tim gave him an amused look, which was as close as he really got to a smile when he was about to get his picture taken, "If the hat was magic, wouldn't you have noticed while you were wearing it?"
Conner snapped the picture with Tim's amused look. "They're not magic on humans, Tim. Only on snowmen." He made sure the picture was saved before handing the camera back to Tim.
"Magic is activated by a lack of body heat?" Tim asked, laughter in his voice, tucking the phone away in a pocket and rubbing his hands together for warmth.
Chuckling, Conner leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow, picking it up and packing it into a ball. "Well, according to the show, magic activated by contact with special Christmas snow." He waited until Tim was frowning at that and tossed the snowball at him, aiming for Tim's cheek.
"What sh..." The snowball impacted before he could finish the question and for a moment Tim just stared at Conner, then he narrowed his eyes and deliberately crouched to gather up a double handful of snow.
Oh yeah, it was on. Conner crouched himself, making another snowball. He threw it at the same time as Tim threw his, and couldn't see if it impacted Tim as Tim's snowball hit Conner in the face. Conner laughed. Tim had a good arm. This was going to be fun.
Now that he was aware that the snowballs were coming, Tim thought he had a fair chance of dodging them, and managed to avoid the second one Conner lobbed at him, though his borrowed boots, too big by a whole size, made him stumble. Turning the stumble into a chance to grab a handful of snow, Tim threw it at Conner without packing it, using it to buy him time to duck behind the snowman for cover.
The snow in his face made him sputter, but Conner didn't stop making the snowball, but when he'd wiped off his face, Tim was hiding behind the snowman. "Frosty won't save you, Tim," Conner called out.
"Maybe not, but he'll provide excellent cover," Tim called back, crouching to start building a small arsenal of snowballs.
Conner chuckled, ducking around the corner of the porch for some cover, stockpiling his own ammunition. He peeked around the corner and lobbed one at Tim.
Absorbed as he was in making snowballs, Tim didn't see it coming and got pegged in the shoulder. Scooping up one of his snowballs, he leaned around the snowman and waited patiently until Conner peeked out again before he threw his snowball and ducked back behind the snowman.
Damn it, Tim was fast, Conner thought as he got nailed in the face again. He wiped the snow off his face and grabbed two snowballs, ready for rapid deployment as soon as Tim peeked out.
Laughing softly, the sound carrying over the snow, Tim picked up another snowball and moved to throw it from the other side of the snowman, trying to catch Conner off guard.
As soon as Tim peeked out, Conner threw both snowballs, then ducked back to avoid Tim's next throw.
Trying to avoid both snowballs got him hit with both and Tim took a moment to dust himself off before he eyed his remaining snowballs and deciding that a charge would be completely unexpected. Scooping up as many as he could carry with one arm, he darted out from behind the snowman and headed for the corner Conner was hiding behind, throwing snowballs the second he caught sight of him.
Conner peeked out again and jerked back in shock as he saw Tim charging at him, he didn't duck the first snowball, but then scooped up his remaining arsenal and jumped out from around the corner, throwing snowballs and Tim and trying to dodge Tim's throws (not always successfully) until Tim crashed into him.
Mentally cursing the over sized boots that made him so clumsy, Tim was completely unable to stop the two of them from falling into the snow, thankfully with him on top, as Conner would have flattened him. The startled look on Conner's face made him laugh though, "Oops?"
Conner reflexively closed his arms around Tim as they fell, landing on his back with a soft grunt. He laughed. "Just a slight oops," he said. "But it's a good way to end a snowball fight." He looked at Tim for another second, taking in the cold-reddened cheeks, the smile on Tim's face and the sparkle in Tim's eyes, and he couldn't stop himself. Conner let one hand move up to the back of Tim's head and gently pulled him into a kiss.
Bracing himself on one arm, Tim didn't hesitate to return the kiss, for once not thinking about his surroundings and who could see them. He wasn't at all ashamed of being attracted to Conner, but he normally would have been careful about Mrs. Kent seeing them, or worse, anyone from town; more concerned for Conner's reputation than anything.
Deepening the kiss, Conner wasn't thinking of anyone or anything other than Tim at that moment. Instead he was pulling Tim closer with his free hand, and unashamedly making pleased noises into the kiss.
The cold of the snow was a minor distraction, but Tim was more than willing to ignore it in favor of returning the kiss, letting his whole weight rest on Conner's chest.
God, Tim felt so good on top of him, Conner thought distractedly as he kissed Tim. He didn't notice the cold or the snow, so caught up in kissing Tim, but he couldn't help the little jump he made as a small clump of snow slid into his jacket and onto his bare skin.
The jump got Tim's attention, and he pulled away from the kiss after another moment, laughing softly, "This probably isn't the best place for this..."
Conner chuckled. "Sorry, snow got down my collar." He didn't move, though, just staring up at Tim, taking in the picture he presented against the winter blue sky. He stroked gloved fingers against the back of Tim's neck before pulling him into another kiss, heedless of the snow.
Returning the kiss, Tim lingered for a moment, but lifted his head after a couple of minutes and pushed himself up, offering Conner a hand up, "Come on, it's too cold out here for this, I don't want you to get sick."
Sighing, Conner let himself be helped up and reached out to brush snow off Tim. "Don't want you getting sick, either," he said.
When they were relatively free of snow, they walked back to the farmhouse, Tim's hand in Conner's. Inside, Krypto greeted both of them with licks and enthusiastic woofs before Conner got him calmed down. He could hear Ma in the living room, talking to someone on the phone, so once they were shed of their coats, he led Tim into the kitchen, pouring hot chocolate for them both. "Somehow, hot chocolate always tastes better after you've been playing in the snow."
Feeling the cold now that contact with Conner was no longer distracting him, Tim rubbed his hands together and leaned against the counter next to where Conner was working, "Probably because you're frozen stiff."
Conner handed a mug to Tim. "That is entirely possible," he said, taking his own mug and leaning against the counter next to Tim. He held up his mug for a toast. "To your first snowman," he said with a smile.
Touching his mug to Conner's Tim smiled, "To my first snowman... he made an excellent shelter from snowballs."
Taking a sip, Conner couldn't keep the smile off his face. "He did. Though the porch wasn't that bad, either," he said loyally.
"It wasn't," Tim agreed, wrapping his hands around his mug to warm them faster, "That's why I felt taking a more aggressive tactic was called for."
Conner glanced over at Tim. "You won't hear me complain about the results," he said softly.
Leaning over against Conner's side, Tim smiled a little, "Me either."
It took quite some time and determination, but Martha Kent was pleased when she finally managed to get through to Tim's assistant, and watched the boys playing in the snow while she waited for him to answer a gentle smile on her face.
Glancing up from his computer when the phone rang, Bernard frowned when an unfamiliar number popped up on the caller ID. Reaching for his headset, he hit the button to answer the phone. "Drake Industries, this is Bernard."
"Good evening, is this Bernard Dowd, Timothy Drake's assistant?" Martha asked hopefully, smiling when she saw the boys throwing snowballs at one another outside.
"Yes, ma'am, it is. How may I assist you?" Bernard turned back to his computer, running down Tim's schedule for the week, wondering if this was another meeting that would have to be postponed due to Tim being stuck in Surrealville, Kansas.
Her relieved sigh was audible over the phone, and her tone turned warm, "Oh good, I was afraid I would never get a hold of you. My name is Martha Kent, dear. Tim is staying with my family here in Smallville. I was hoping you could help me with something..."
Bernard sat up, turning toward the phone and grabbing his pen to jot down the number on the caller ID, just for reference. This sounded like it could be an interesting conversation, if the lady Tim was staying with was calling Gotham. "Whatever he broke, ma'am, I assure you he can pay for it," Bernard said with a hint of humor in his voice.
Laughing Martha shook her head, "Oh no dear, he hasn't broken a thing. I just hoped you could tell me his favorite color. You see, he'll be here over the holiday and I know he's Jewish, but it would be a terrible shame if he didn't have any gifts to open on Christmas. I'd like to make him something."
That momentarily stunned Bernard speechless. He knew, from being Tim's friend for a long time, as well as his assistant, that Tim's own mother sometimes forgot holidays and birthdays, but this woman, who barely knew Tim, wanted to make him a present so he didn't feel left out on Christmas? Tim was right, Smallville was the ideal small town. "It's blue, ma'am. But the darker shades, not the lighter ones. He's not fond of pastels, really."
Smiling Martha shifted so she absolutely couldn't be seen from outside when Conner and Tim started kissing, her tone going soft and fond when she answered, "Wonderful, I have just the right yarn, it'll be lovely with his eyes. We've become rather fond of Tim, we would all feel just awful if we couldn't make his holiday special, especially Conner."
"Conner, your grandson?" Bernard asked. Tim had mention the family he was staying with had a grandson. One that might be close to Tim's age, Bernard hoped. Tim needed more friends his own age. "If I can be blunt, ma'am, just taking Tim in is making his holiday special. He's too often alone on holidays, though I try to drag him to my parent's at least one holiday a year so he's not alone."
"Yes, Conner's my grandson... he and Tim have gotten quite close," There was an element of laughter in her voice, given that at the moment Tim and Conner were cuddling on her front lawn. She went more serious as she went on, "We couldn't very well leave him to be alone, and I'm glad we didn't. He's a wonderful young man, we would have been missing out."
"Oh?" Bernard asked leadingly. After all, there was close and then there was *close*. Bernard was hoping for the latter, if possible. If not, well, at least Tim might have someone else to call friend. "He's the best boss I've worked for, and I wish more people thought like you, ma'am," he said, probably overstepping his bounds, but no one was around to him to hear.
Martha considered for a moment, then decided that she trusted him, "Conner's going to be heartbroken when Tim leaves, and if I'm not mistaken, Tim won't be terribly pleased either. I'm rather hoping that they decide that distance isn't an impediment to a relationship."
He'd been right, Tim and this Conner were *close*. Bernard smiled. "If it's something Tim really wants to hold onto, he'll find a way, ma'am. He just doesn't always apply that to people, unless they're important to him."
"Well I hope you'll encourage him to apply it in this case," Martha said, moving further from the kitchen as the boys came inside, "I've never seen Conner so happy with someone, and I get the impression Tim doesn't usually relax so much either."
Bernard raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am, if you've actually gotten Tim to relax, I think I should put you on the payroll."
"I recommend homemade apple pie, plenty of hot coco and good company, and restricting his access to work," Martha suggested, warmth in her voice.
Bernard couldn't help laughing. "All right, sounds like I should encourage him not to come back to Gotham, then." He sobered at that. "I should tell you, his parents had me put a meeting with them on his schedule for the 28th. They're expecting him back from Smallville before then. They've looked at the weather and since it's supposed to be clear by the 26th, they've told me to call him and tell him to be at that meeting." He glanced around the work area, then lowered his voice. "They wanted him home the 27th for the meeting, but I managed to convince them it would probably take an extra day to clear the roads and airfield."
Frowning, because she was getting the impression that this wasn't a good thing, Martha ventured, "It sounds as if this isn't because they're concerned for him..."
Sighing, Bernard shook his head, though he knew Mrs. Kent couldn't see him. "They want to meet on the proposed plant site and make a decision before the new year."
Martha blinked in surprise, glancing over toward the kitchen where she could hear Tim and Conner talking softly, "I see. Well. I suppose it would be nice for Tim to spend New Years night with his friends."
"Tam and I will make sure he's not alone for New Year's Eve, ma'am." Bernard meant it. They had already talked about dragging Tim to dinner and a movie and a sleepover at Tam's apartment that night, and Bernard suspected now that Tim might really need his friends.
Sighing softly, Martha nodded, "I'm very glad to hear that Bernard. Thank you. It's very nice to know that he won't be alone. In the mean time, we'll do our best to take care of him for you."
"Thank *you*, ma'am," Bernard said. "I'm glad Tim is staying with you instead of at some motel or church basement."
"So are we," Martha answered softly, then took a deep breath and added more briskly, "I suppose I should let you go, and get started on lunch. I expect you'll call if there's anything we can do for Tim, or for yourself." It was phrased as a question, but stated as a fact, as she was used to obedience to her gentle orders.
"I will, ma'am." He hesitated. "Ma'am, I don't know what you traditionally cook for Christmas Eve, but I do know that Tim is very fond of Shepherd's Pie. His family cook used to make it for him a lot. It might be a nice surprise for him."
Smiling, her tone going even warmer, Martha told him, "I'll do that, thank you Bernard. I hope you have a good holiday as well."
"You're welcome, ma'am, and Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas Bernard," Pleased with the call, and the majority of the information she got from it, Martha hung up and headed into the kitchen, planning lunch and making a mental list of the ingredients for Shepherd's pie she had on hand.
Part Three