[Fic] Cure for the Not-So-Common Cold (Tim/Kon)
Title: Cure for the Not-So-Common Cold
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Tim/Kon
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2500 words
Author's Notes: For rai_daydreamer, who asked for Kon/Tim, hurt/comfort for help_haiti. I hope you like this! And thank you to zoe_chan, who is awesome and my person. ♥
Summary: Kon is sick for the first time, and Tim takes care of him.
Finishing his coughing fit, Kon dropped back onto his bed with a moan, tugging his blanket up over his head and draping an arm over his eyes. His throat burned, feeling raw when he swallowed. He shut his eyes, ignoring the way they wanted to water and the way his chest was tight and his head felt disconnected from his body. He was just beginning to drift into an uncomfortable sleep when someone knocked on the door. Groaning hoarsely, he tried to answer and had to clear his throat twice before managing to croak out "come in" pathetically.
Tim pushed the door open cautiously and scanned the room until his eyes rested on Kon. His eyebrows shot up over his mask. "Your text said were sick, but I don't think I believed it."
Kon glared weakly, clearing his throat again before saying, "I don’t believe it."
Tim moved forward slowly until he was standing by Kon's bed. He sat down carefully beside him. "What's wrong?"
Kon rolled his eyes, making a face and grunting. "I’m sick, Tim," he said, his voice scratchy and rough. It took effort not to pout. "My throat feels like it’s on fire, and I keep coughing and I can’t talk and I’ve had a headache for like three days."
Tim smiled sympathetically. "Sounds like a really nasty headcold."
Kon picked his head up off his pillow and then dropped it back again, scowling. He made a whining noise and squeezed his eyes shut. "I don’t like it," he said petulantly. "It sucks."
"Yeah, it kind of does." Tim put his hand on Kon's chest and began rubbing it in small, gentle circles. "Did you take any cold medicine?"
"Hmm," Kon murmured, letting his eyes close momentarily. "A couple hours ago," he said, distracted. "That feels good."
"Good. Can I get you anything?"
"There’s no chance you and Batman have figured out the cure for the common cold yet, is there?" Kon propped himself up on an elbow, turning his head as he began coughing. When he finished, he collapsed back to his pillow. "That would come in handy about now."
"We have... but you wouldn't really like it."
"I knew it. Grape-flavored, right?"
Tim nodded sadly and moved to stretch out beside Kon, leaning on his elbow and putting his other hand back on Kon's chest to resume the slow circles. "Yeah. You take a Dimetapp bath, then ten days' bed rest. Surefire cure."
Kon laughed a little, which had the unfortunate side-effect of setting off a coughing spell. He tried to roll over, but Tim pressed his hand firmly against his chest, continuing to rub in circles. The coughing fit was short, but it left Kon with watering eyes, and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak. "Ten days’ bed rest doesn’t sound so bad," he said hoarsely.
Tim smirked. "I'm sure we could figure out some way to entertain you while you were bedridden."
"Oh, really?" Kon smiled back. "Just what’d you have in mind?"
Tim shrugged casually. "I might suggest we start with something like this." He leaned down and kissed Kon, moving the hand that wasn't rubbing Kon's chest a little to trace his fingertips over the edge of Kon's ear.
Kon made a small, happy noise, letting his eyes shut and leaning into the kiss, shifting a little to give Tim’s fingers better access to his ear and neck. He reached up and touched Tim’s face before resting his palm against the back of his neck and playing with his hair. He pulled back from the kiss sooner than he wanted to, because he needed to breathe. Kon touched his forehead to Tim’s. "Don’t want you to get sick," he murmured, although he didn’t move away.
Tim smiled. "I've had colds before," he said, kissing the tip of Kon's nose. "I imagine I'd survive another one."
"Good." Grinning, Kon twisted up and caught Tim’s mouth in another kiss. He buried his fingers in Tim’s hair and put his other hand on Tim’s upper arm, arching up into the kiss. Almost as soon as they deepened it, Kon grunted and pulled away abruptly. He rolled away from Tim, coughing violently.
Tim made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and curled himself around Kon, running his hand gently up and down Kon's chest as he coughed. He smoothed his other hand through Kon's hair, waiting for the fit to end.
When it finally did, Kon relaxed into Tim, catching his breath. He let his eyes slid shut and focused on Tim’s hand on his chest. He uncurled a little, pressing back against Tim. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Don't be," Tim said firmly, tightening his arm briefly around Kon's chest. "Are you sure I can’t get you anything?"
Kon shook his head, reaching up and covering Tim’s hand with his own. He laced his fingers with Tim’s and squeezed, glancing up over his shoulder so he could see him. "I could maybe eat some soup eventually." He tightened his grip when Tim started to move. "Don’t," he said.
"What about the soup?" Tim was smiling in amusement.
Kon snorted and squeezed Tim’s fingers again. He rolled a little, settling himself against Tim. "I’d rather have you."
Tim's face softened and he leaned down to kiss Kon. Drawing back a little, he asked, "What if I promise it will take less than a minute to get your soup? And it's hot?"
Kon shook his head, frowning slightly. "Later, maybe? I just..." He tucked his head under Tim’s chin as best he could, given their positions. "Not now."
"Okay." Tim eased off his elbow and lay down carefully so that he didn't move Kon too much. He curled one arm around Kon's head and slid his fingers through Kon's hair over and over in a soothing gesture. He made the same motions with his other hand, running the backs of his fingers up and down Kon's chest. After a few moments of listening to Kon's slightly wheezing breaths, he asked, "This is the first time you've ever been sick like this, isn't it?"
"Hmm," Kon murmured, enjoying the feel of Tim’s fingers in his hair and against his chest. "Damn magic."
"Sucks, huh?" Tim asked, voice wry. He turned his head a little and placed a kiss on the top of Kon's.
"If you ever hear me say something like ‘it’s just a cold’ again, please hit me with something heavy."
Tim smirked against Kon's hair. "Just be glad you didn’t get one in the summer--those are hellish, because you can't breathe, and the few breaths you do get are so hot and humid that you might as well not bother."
Kon groaned and turned his head to push his face into his pillow. "I hate this," he muttered, his voice muffled. "So damn much."
Tim's hands continued moving. "I know."
Kon groaned, let go of Tim’s hand and curled onto his stomach, shaking his head into his pillow. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "I don’t feel good, and I'm tired but I can't sleep and I hurt and I’m all... whining. And it’s not fair. I didn’t even do anything that bad!"
Kon heard Tim suppress and laugh and felt him shift so that he lay on his side against him. He felt the heel of Tim's hand making slow even circles over his back in a kind of calming massage. "You were picking on Jaime a lot this weekend. He was sick too."
Kon sighed, and turned his head on the pillow to face Tim. "I don’t think that makes it okay for his girlfriend to give me a magic plague," he argued petulantly.
Tim was clearly trying not to smile. "A cold is not exactly the plague. Trust me. I had the Clench. A cold is nothing."
Kon pouted. "Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic?"
"I believe that the last time I was sick, you told me to suck it up and keep my snot away from you," Tim pointed out dryly.
Kon groaned and dropped his head against Tim. "Clearly I’m an ass. Why do you put up with me?"
"I only love you for your body."
"That explains a lot." Kon shut his eyes, resting against Tim for several long, quiet moments. Eventually he shifted and pulled his head back to rest on the pillow so he could look at Tim’s face. "So," he said. "How about that soup?"
Tim smiled. "You sure you want to let me up so I can get it?"
"Not exactly," Kon replied, with a sheepish grin. "But I’m kind of hungry."
Tim grinned and extricated himself from Kon's arms. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing there with his hand on the doorknob. "It is really good soup," he said over his shoulder, before pushing the door open and stepping through.
Kon shut his eyes, curling a hand under the pillow and stretching a little. It was maybe a little strange, but just knowing Tim was here--as opposed to across the country in Gotham--made him relax, and he drifted off until Tim returned with a thermos, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Tim sat down on the bed beside Kon, leaning against the headboard and holding out the thermos. "This," he said, indicating the bottle he was holding, "is possibly the best chicken soup on the planet. Please, treat it with the reverence it deserves."
Kon smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position and scooting back until he was leaning against the headboard next to Tim. "Where’d you get this?" he asked, watching Tim pour some soup into the cap--it smelled amazing--and taking it when Tim offered it to him. "Cause this is definitely not Campbell’s or anything from the dining hall." He inhaled the steam from the soup and made a happy noise before sipping it.
Tim grinned. "Brought it from home. There's an old man there who is very sympathetic to your plight."
Kon looked at him, surprised. "You brought homemade soup all the way from Gotham? For me?"
"Well... Yeah. You're sick. Alfred's soup makes almost anything better. Also, he sent cookies, but I thought we'd wait on those." Tim nudged him carefully with his shoulder so that he didn't spill the soup. "Someone has to take care of you."
Kon stared down into the soup, focusing his attention on the noodles and vegetables and chicken. He brought the cap back up to his lips and took a deep swallow, letting his eyes slide shut in contentment--it really was fantastic chicken noodle soup, good enough to challenge Aunt Martha’s famous chicken-and-rice. He shifted so that his shoulder leaned against Tim’s. "Thank you--and thank Alfred for me," he added. Another sip of soup and he turned his head to smile lightly at Tim. "Cookies? Really? What kind?"
"Two kinds, actually. Oatmeal chocolate chip, because it's comfort food, and how do you not feel better after one of them? And..." Tim frowned, trying to remember. "Oh, yeah. Cranberry orange pinwheels. He said they have Vitamin C in them to help boost your immune system." Tim grinned. "They also happen to be really good."
Kon grinned, drinking the last of the capful of soup to cover the fact that he really had no idea what to say to that. The idea that Alfred had made soup and cookies for him? Kon had no idea what to do with that. Aunt Martha would have made him soup, and maybe would’ve baked cookies, but--that was Aunt Martha, and she was family. He’d never even met Alfred, and only knew of him through Tim. "Well," he said finally, and cleared his throat roughly to cover the way his voice caught. "If his baking is anything like his cooking, then ‘really good’ is probably an understatement."
"It... kind of is." Kon could see the pride that shone in Tim's eyes as he smiled. Tim handed over the thermos so that Kon could pour the rest of the soup into the cap.
"Hmm." Kon smiled a little, and a comfortable silence fell between them as he finished off the soup. The pain in his throat eased as he drank the hot broth and when he handed the thermos and cap back to Tim, he felt full and warm and comfortable. His chest didn’t feel quite as tight as he breathed and he smiled at Tim when he resettled against the headboard after setting the thermos on the floor next to the bed. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Tim leaned his head against Kon's shoulder. "Feeling any better?"
Kon dropped his head to lean on Tim’s, and nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Must be the soup."
"It does have that effect on people. I've been harboring the suspicion for years that Alfred is magical and just prefers to keep things quiet."
Kon snorted and moved the hand that was trapped between them so he could find Tim’s, squeezing his fingers and moving his thumb in idle circles. After a while, he said in a very low voice, "I’m glad you’re here."
"Me too." He lifted Kon's hand and kissed the back of it, giving it a little squeeze before letting their entwined fingers drop back down.
Kon turned his head and brushed it against Tim’s hair, humming a little. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." He turned to look at Kon and smiled. Leaning toward him a little, he placed a quick kiss on the tip of Kon's nose, and then another one on his lips.
"Hmm." Kon smiled into the kiss, parting their lips and running his tongue across Tim’s lower lip. He squeezed his hand as he tilted their heads into a better position so he could kiss Tim--and be kissed--breathless.
Tim brought his hand up to the back of Kon's head and curled his fingers a little around the back of his neck, brushing them through the short hairs there. He made a contented little noise against Kon's mouth. Kon pulled back to take a breath and dropped his forehead to Tim’s shoulder, nuzzling his throat with his nose, a small content noise escaping him.
Tim let his arm slip down so that it wrapped around Kon's shoulders and held him, leaning his head against the top of Kon's. "So... cookies? Or are you thinking you'd rather get some rest?"
Kon made a thoughtful noise in his throat. "Do you have to get up again for the cookies?"
"Sadly, yes."
Kon grunted and shifted to lie down, pulling Tim with him. He wrapped himself around him, treating Tim like a giant pillow.
Tim laughed softly and kissed Kon’s temple. "I guess that means the cookies wait. Go to sleep, Kon. I’ll be here when you wake up."
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Tim/Kon
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~2500 words
Author's Notes: For rai_daydreamer, who asked for Kon/Tim, hurt/comfort for help_haiti. I hope you like this! And thank you to zoe_chan, who is awesome and my person. ♥
Summary: Kon is sick for the first time, and Tim takes care of him.
Finishing his coughing fit, Kon dropped back onto his bed with a moan, tugging his blanket up over his head and draping an arm over his eyes. His throat burned, feeling raw when he swallowed. He shut his eyes, ignoring the way they wanted to water and the way his chest was tight and his head felt disconnected from his body. He was just beginning to drift into an uncomfortable sleep when someone knocked on the door. Groaning hoarsely, he tried to answer and had to clear his throat twice before managing to croak out "come in" pathetically.
Tim pushed the door open cautiously and scanned the room until his eyes rested on Kon. His eyebrows shot up over his mask. "Your text said were sick, but I don't think I believed it."
Kon glared weakly, clearing his throat again before saying, "I don’t believe it."
Tim moved forward slowly until he was standing by Kon's bed. He sat down carefully beside him. "What's wrong?"
Kon rolled his eyes, making a face and grunting. "I’m sick, Tim," he said, his voice scratchy and rough. It took effort not to pout. "My throat feels like it’s on fire, and I keep coughing and I can’t talk and I’ve had a headache for like three days."
Tim smiled sympathetically. "Sounds like a really nasty headcold."
Kon picked his head up off his pillow and then dropped it back again, scowling. He made a whining noise and squeezed his eyes shut. "I don’t like it," he said petulantly. "It sucks."
"Yeah, it kind of does." Tim put his hand on Kon's chest and began rubbing it in small, gentle circles. "Did you take any cold medicine?"
"Hmm," Kon murmured, letting his eyes close momentarily. "A couple hours ago," he said, distracted. "That feels good."
"Good. Can I get you anything?"
"There’s no chance you and Batman have figured out the cure for the common cold yet, is there?" Kon propped himself up on an elbow, turning his head as he began coughing. When he finished, he collapsed back to his pillow. "That would come in handy about now."
"We have... but you wouldn't really like it."
"I knew it. Grape-flavored, right?"
Tim nodded sadly and moved to stretch out beside Kon, leaning on his elbow and putting his other hand back on Kon's chest to resume the slow circles. "Yeah. You take a Dimetapp bath, then ten days' bed rest. Surefire cure."
Kon laughed a little, which had the unfortunate side-effect of setting off a coughing spell. He tried to roll over, but Tim pressed his hand firmly against his chest, continuing to rub in circles. The coughing fit was short, but it left Kon with watering eyes, and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak. "Ten days’ bed rest doesn’t sound so bad," he said hoarsely.
Tim smirked. "I'm sure we could figure out some way to entertain you while you were bedridden."
"Oh, really?" Kon smiled back. "Just what’d you have in mind?"
Tim shrugged casually. "I might suggest we start with something like this." He leaned down and kissed Kon, moving the hand that wasn't rubbing Kon's chest a little to trace his fingertips over the edge of Kon's ear.
Kon made a small, happy noise, letting his eyes shut and leaning into the kiss, shifting a little to give Tim’s fingers better access to his ear and neck. He reached up and touched Tim’s face before resting his palm against the back of his neck and playing with his hair. He pulled back from the kiss sooner than he wanted to, because he needed to breathe. Kon touched his forehead to Tim’s. "Don’t want you to get sick," he murmured, although he didn’t move away.
Tim smiled. "I've had colds before," he said, kissing the tip of Kon's nose. "I imagine I'd survive another one."
"Good." Grinning, Kon twisted up and caught Tim’s mouth in another kiss. He buried his fingers in Tim’s hair and put his other hand on Tim’s upper arm, arching up into the kiss. Almost as soon as they deepened it, Kon grunted and pulled away abruptly. He rolled away from Tim, coughing violently.
Tim made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and curled himself around Kon, running his hand gently up and down Kon's chest as he coughed. He smoothed his other hand through Kon's hair, waiting for the fit to end.
When it finally did, Kon relaxed into Tim, catching his breath. He let his eyes slid shut and focused on Tim’s hand on his chest. He uncurled a little, pressing back against Tim. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Don't be," Tim said firmly, tightening his arm briefly around Kon's chest. "Are you sure I can’t get you anything?"
Kon shook his head, reaching up and covering Tim’s hand with his own. He laced his fingers with Tim’s and squeezed, glancing up over his shoulder so he could see him. "I could maybe eat some soup eventually." He tightened his grip when Tim started to move. "Don’t," he said.
"What about the soup?" Tim was smiling in amusement.
Kon snorted and squeezed Tim’s fingers again. He rolled a little, settling himself against Tim. "I’d rather have you."
Tim's face softened and he leaned down to kiss Kon. Drawing back a little, he asked, "What if I promise it will take less than a minute to get your soup? And it's hot?"
Kon shook his head, frowning slightly. "Later, maybe? I just..." He tucked his head under Tim’s chin as best he could, given their positions. "Not now."
"Okay." Tim eased off his elbow and lay down carefully so that he didn't move Kon too much. He curled one arm around Kon's head and slid his fingers through Kon's hair over and over in a soothing gesture. He made the same motions with his other hand, running the backs of his fingers up and down Kon's chest. After a few moments of listening to Kon's slightly wheezing breaths, he asked, "This is the first time you've ever been sick like this, isn't it?"
"Hmm," Kon murmured, enjoying the feel of Tim’s fingers in his hair and against his chest. "Damn magic."
"Sucks, huh?" Tim asked, voice wry. He turned his head a little and placed a kiss on the top of Kon's.
"If you ever hear me say something like ‘it’s just a cold’ again, please hit me with something heavy."
Tim smirked against Kon's hair. "Just be glad you didn’t get one in the summer--those are hellish, because you can't breathe, and the few breaths you do get are so hot and humid that you might as well not bother."
Kon groaned and turned his head to push his face into his pillow. "I hate this," he muttered, his voice muffled. "So damn much."
Tim's hands continued moving. "I know."
Kon groaned, let go of Tim’s hand and curled onto his stomach, shaking his head into his pillow. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "I don’t feel good, and I'm tired but I can't sleep and I hurt and I’m all... whining. And it’s not fair. I didn’t even do anything that bad!"
Kon heard Tim suppress and laugh and felt him shift so that he lay on his side against him. He felt the heel of Tim's hand making slow even circles over his back in a kind of calming massage. "You were picking on Jaime a lot this weekend. He was sick too."
Kon sighed, and turned his head on the pillow to face Tim. "I don’t think that makes it okay for his girlfriend to give me a magic plague," he argued petulantly.
Tim was clearly trying not to smile. "A cold is not exactly the plague. Trust me. I had the Clench. A cold is nothing."
Kon pouted. "Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic?"
"I believe that the last time I was sick, you told me to suck it up and keep my snot away from you," Tim pointed out dryly.
Kon groaned and dropped his head against Tim. "Clearly I’m an ass. Why do you put up with me?"
"I only love you for your body."
"That explains a lot." Kon shut his eyes, resting against Tim for several long, quiet moments. Eventually he shifted and pulled his head back to rest on the pillow so he could look at Tim’s face. "So," he said. "How about that soup?"
Tim smiled. "You sure you want to let me up so I can get it?"
"Not exactly," Kon replied, with a sheepish grin. "But I’m kind of hungry."
Tim grinned and extricated himself from Kon's arms. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing there with his hand on the doorknob. "It is really good soup," he said over his shoulder, before pushing the door open and stepping through.
Kon shut his eyes, curling a hand under the pillow and stretching a little. It was maybe a little strange, but just knowing Tim was here--as opposed to across the country in Gotham--made him relax, and he drifted off until Tim returned with a thermos, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Tim sat down on the bed beside Kon, leaning against the headboard and holding out the thermos. "This," he said, indicating the bottle he was holding, "is possibly the best chicken soup on the planet. Please, treat it with the reverence it deserves."
Kon smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position and scooting back until he was leaning against the headboard next to Tim. "Where’d you get this?" he asked, watching Tim pour some soup into the cap--it smelled amazing--and taking it when Tim offered it to him. "Cause this is definitely not Campbell’s or anything from the dining hall." He inhaled the steam from the soup and made a happy noise before sipping it.
Tim grinned. "Brought it from home. There's an old man there who is very sympathetic to your plight."
Kon looked at him, surprised. "You brought homemade soup all the way from Gotham? For me?"
"Well... Yeah. You're sick. Alfred's soup makes almost anything better. Also, he sent cookies, but I thought we'd wait on those." Tim nudged him carefully with his shoulder so that he didn't spill the soup. "Someone has to take care of you."
Kon stared down into the soup, focusing his attention on the noodles and vegetables and chicken. He brought the cap back up to his lips and took a deep swallow, letting his eyes slide shut in contentment--it really was fantastic chicken noodle soup, good enough to challenge Aunt Martha’s famous chicken-and-rice. He shifted so that his shoulder leaned against Tim’s. "Thank you--and thank Alfred for me," he added. Another sip of soup and he turned his head to smile lightly at Tim. "Cookies? Really? What kind?"
"Two kinds, actually. Oatmeal chocolate chip, because it's comfort food, and how do you not feel better after one of them? And..." Tim frowned, trying to remember. "Oh, yeah. Cranberry orange pinwheels. He said they have Vitamin C in them to help boost your immune system." Tim grinned. "They also happen to be really good."
Kon grinned, drinking the last of the capful of soup to cover the fact that he really had no idea what to say to that. The idea that Alfred had made soup and cookies for him? Kon had no idea what to do with that. Aunt Martha would have made him soup, and maybe would’ve baked cookies, but--that was Aunt Martha, and she was family. He’d never even met Alfred, and only knew of him through Tim. "Well," he said finally, and cleared his throat roughly to cover the way his voice caught. "If his baking is anything like his cooking, then ‘really good’ is probably an understatement."
"It... kind of is." Kon could see the pride that shone in Tim's eyes as he smiled. Tim handed over the thermos so that Kon could pour the rest of the soup into the cap.
"Hmm." Kon smiled a little, and a comfortable silence fell between them as he finished off the soup. The pain in his throat eased as he drank the hot broth and when he handed the thermos and cap back to Tim, he felt full and warm and comfortable. His chest didn’t feel quite as tight as he breathed and he smiled at Tim when he resettled against the headboard after setting the thermos on the floor next to the bed. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Tim leaned his head against Kon's shoulder. "Feeling any better?"
Kon dropped his head to lean on Tim’s, and nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Must be the soup."
"It does have that effect on people. I've been harboring the suspicion for years that Alfred is magical and just prefers to keep things quiet."
Kon snorted and moved the hand that was trapped between them so he could find Tim’s, squeezing his fingers and moving his thumb in idle circles. After a while, he said in a very low voice, "I’m glad you’re here."
"Me too." He lifted Kon's hand and kissed the back of it, giving it a little squeeze before letting their entwined fingers drop back down.
Kon turned his head and brushed it against Tim’s hair, humming a little. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." He turned to look at Kon and smiled. Leaning toward him a little, he placed a quick kiss on the tip of Kon's nose, and then another one on his lips.
"Hmm." Kon smiled into the kiss, parting their lips and running his tongue across Tim’s lower lip. He squeezed his hand as he tilted their heads into a better position so he could kiss Tim--and be kissed--breathless.
Tim brought his hand up to the back of Kon's head and curled his fingers a little around the back of his neck, brushing them through the short hairs there. He made a contented little noise against Kon's mouth. Kon pulled back to take a breath and dropped his forehead to Tim’s shoulder, nuzzling his throat with his nose, a small content noise escaping him.
Tim let his arm slip down so that it wrapped around Kon's shoulders and held him, leaning his head against the top of Kon's. "So... cookies? Or are you thinking you'd rather get some rest?"
Kon made a thoughtful noise in his throat. "Do you have to get up again for the cookies?"
"Sadly, yes."
Kon grunted and shifted to lie down, pulling Tim with him. He wrapped himself around him, treating Tim like a giant pillow.
Tim laughed softly and kissed Kon’s temple. "I guess that means the cookies wait. Go to sleep, Kon. I’ll be here when you wake up."