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Jason reaches forward on his tired grey couch for the opened beer can on the coffee table when the pretty face between his legs whines in protest. Naturally, he gives up, because Tim’s so fucking unpredictable. After the last dry spell, Jason’s not in the mood to piss off Tim and trigger another one.
“You know, Jay missed you a lot, Timmy?” Roy starts. Mutinous motherfucker.
Before Jason can advise him to shut up, Tim’s tongue erases his thoughts with a languid roll and his mind shivers to a pleasant halt.
Later. He can deal with Roy later.
The rest of Tim spills across the couch, his pale, naked hips lounging on Roy’s lap. Roy’s been probing two lubed fingers into Tim for what feels like forever, though it’s only been a couple of minutes since Tim fell onto this couch with them, back into his rightful place.
“That right, Jay?” Tim asks, feather-soft.
“Fuck yes,” says Jason, regretting it as soon as it’s out.
Tim laughs, breathily, faintly, dithering air across his hot flesh. Jason has to force himself to relax, to ward off the deep lock of nerves so he doesn’t come immediately into Tim’s mouth. His regret washes away.
“B—But Roy wasn’t any better.”
“I was so much better. For one, I wasn’t breaking people’s spines because of it.”
“I didn’t…” Jason’s voice gets lost when Tim swallows him down to the root. He cants his hips up before he can help himself, because Tim’s hollowing his cheeks.
Jason is losing his mind watching the blue between those long lashes peer up at him while pretty pink lips surround the bottom of his cock.
This was their normal. Boneheaded Roy included. Then, precisely two weeks ago, Tim just stopped showing up, which shouldn’t have frustrated Jason. The whole of Gotham would line up all the way to Metropolis to have a whiff of Tim’s ass if they could. If anything, Jason was a casual, warm hour Tim visited enough to conflate that time with being some special fixture.
Still, Jason spent the better part of those two weeks reliving the sex with his hand around his cock trying to figure out what he messed up this time, and even ended up asking Barbara if the guy was okay. She said he was fine. Immediately after, Jason might have ruined a pimp’s spine.
Then today, like a spectre, Tim shows up out of nowhere and slithers back onto Jason’s couch, already tugging his pants off.
Half-lying on Roy as per usual, he put Jason’s beer can aside and said those sweet words of, “I hope you’re not that drunk yet.”
And Jason, for all his posturing, did not hold his ground or even prove he wasn’t just a dildo Tim could forget about, then return to whenever he felt like. Instead, he’d grasped Tim’s face and kissed him, because sometimes Tim doesn’t get to that. And Tim’s too good of a kisser to neglect kissing, because like Tim does with everything in his life, he throws everything into it. Arms around Jason’s neck, then fingers trailing, leaving shivers in their wake. And then Tim descended, with those sugar-sweet lips, until he was slurping down Jason’s cock while Roy yanked those pants down to his knees.
Presently, Jason buries his hand in Tim’s ridiculously soft hair, anchoring, tight, like he could disappear again. Tim bobs on his cock with that whole-body enthusiasm Jason’s missed dearly. He grips harder on Tim’s hair, not steering him, just letting him work.
Behind, Roy presses fingers deep into Tim, filling him to the final knuckle, his other palm sliding reverently down Tim’s thighs. When his fingers slip out, Tim lifts after it, bowing into an arch. Jason inhales through closed teeth. Roy huffs the quietest laugh, playfully spanking a cheek, before shifting out from Tim and onto the back of his legs. He plants kisses down his pert little ass, gripping his hips, before his tongue drags over Tim’s seam.
Tim squeals, and a sweet vibration hums around his cock. Jason curses and lets go of Tim’s hair long enough to lose his shirt. Tim sucks harder, his mouth burning hot on his tip as if Trying to kill Jason with pleasure. His stomach sparks, cords tight, and that tension begins. He doesn’t want to come yet and tugs at Tim’s hair again, lightly. He’s not in a rough mood tonight.
Tim senses and pulls off. Just the sight of his lips, puffy, wet, and it takes everything for Jason not to dive into another kiss. Tim spits on and grasps his cock. Jason’s thumbs his cheek.
“You’re so hungry for it, aren’t you?”
A soft groan passes through Tim’s lips, half prompted by Jason’s words and the fact Roy’s tongue’s fucking his hole.
“Yeah.” Tim rests his cheek on Jason’s thigh, slowly stroking. “Mmf… I meant to visit sooner, but lost track of time.”
“…You missed me too?”
“Of course.” Another stroke and agonizing press of Tim’s thumb against his tip, followed with a breathy sigh—Roy’s hands clamping deeper into Tim’s thighs, the wet sound of his tongue and lips feasting on him.
Before Jason can reply, Tim’s tongue’s back on his cock, greedy and dragging down. Jason groans and his head falls back, his hand reclaiming its spot on Tim’s crown, firmer.
Tim just lost track of time. Fair. Work can be such a swamp, and oh, fuck, maybe Jason should work more missions with Tim if he’s working himself so hard? There’s probably something Tim’s currently working on that Jason can find another tail end of, have something that leads back to Tim so another week doesn’t consume him.
Then they could always have this. Just themselves.
His stomach twitches. Tenses. He’s about to come. Tim’s little groans dance on his nerves. Roy’s taking his sweet time devouring Tim, piece by piece, and Tim’s low stomach and high hips are such a sight that Jason wishes he could see him from all angles. He thrusts his hips up, a groan spilling from him, when the safe house’s security system beeps in an affirmation.
Only a handful of people know his access code. None have good enough reasons to be here right now. He’s begrudgingly tugging Tim away and bending to grab the gun beneath the couch cushion and succeeds when a light voice goes, “Hey, Red Hood? Jason?”
Jason flinches, sucks in a breath, and meets eye to eye with Wally West. Standing at the entrance, behind the couch where all he can see is Jason’s head since he’s not turned tail and run screaming. Behind Wally, Bart Allen rocks on the heels of his feet.
“Dick,” Jason says, meaning it like a curse.
Wally grins. Below, Tim rubs his thigh, sliding a soft kitten lick against his shaft. Jason’s vision flickers between him and Wally. He inhales. Roy doesn’t even acknowledge them, lost between Tim’s pale cheeks.
“Guessing you caught his message?” Wally says.
“No.” Jason can’t care about Wally, or the fact Dick gave him the access code, not when Tim’s sucking his cockhead so sweetly, hand drawn back around his shaft. “Go on…”
For some reason, Wally thinks Jason’s talking to him. “Okay, sure. And yeah, I thought so. He sent it a second before I got here. I’ll just fill you in. This weapons trafficking organization in Keystone had its roots in Gotham. Naturally, I asked Dick. And he said the guys I’m looking for are in your area, which brings us—”
“Can you shut up?” Jason controls his breathing. He was barely tolerating the first ginger, but now he’s hosting the Leprechaun League in his safe house. “We’re in the middle of something.”
“What could be more important?” Bart says almost too fast to catch. “We just need to know where the Rocco brothers operate. Then we’ll be on our merry way.”
“I can tell you they don’t operate at one A.M.” Jason’s mind reels as Tim swallows his cock up. He tips his hips up, just to feel the back of Tim’s throat, to hear that muffled sound that means he’s full of just him.
“Yes, but…”
Wally says something else that Jason tunes out entirely. In favour of watching Tim slip off his cock to lick at the tip worshipfully, his eyes dazed and pinned on his work. Jason might murder Dick the next time he sees him for unleashing his stupid friends in his safe house during a moment like this.
Roy lifts his head well above where the couch’s high back hides him. Tim sounds tragic, whining and trying to arc back up to his mouth, his tongue work getting lazy over Jason’s cock. Placatingly, Roy sinks two fingers inside of Tim, deep, twisting them. Tim’s still perfectly out of view.
Wally stops abruptly. Praise be. “Roy? You’re here, too?” He probably notices the state of Roy’s hair and lips because he makes this sound that Jason nearly scoffs at. “You two are—there’s a woman between you. On that couch.”
Roy finger-bangs Tim, while Tim washes Jason’s cock with his tongue, renewed, fervent again, like Roy’s tapping back into his reserves of energy with each thrust. That sharp, deep feeling crests over Jason, tensing all his muscles, attuning his world to a sweet mouth and plush lips.
“Try man,” says Roy, smirking.
“You two? Men?” Wally asks.
“Yep,” says Roy.
“I never would’ve guessed.” Wally’s brows crease. Bart is still silent.
Roy only laughs. “Same, but Tim’s really convincing. I don’t think he’ll mind the extra attention if you want to hop in. Is that right, Tim?”
“Shit, shit…” Jason gasps, hips stuttering. Tim’s hot mouth surrounds him, snagging every inch down his rippling throat. All that tension comes loose. He spills inside Tim’s mouth, and Tim’s hands grip his thighs, fixed on the base of his cock. He’s sure he makes some other pathetic sound as Tim basically sucks the life out of him. But he knows he’ll still be up for more.
The afterglow can’t even last long, because these idiots are still talking. “You just said Tim,” Bart says. “Like, Tim Drake? Red Robin? My best friend—”
“Is there any other Tim?” Roy pulls his finger out, yanking down his unzipped pants and briefs in one go and rubbing his cock against Tim’s seam.
“Fuck,” Tim groans lowly.
“I don’t know!” Bart exclaims. “I just didn’t think he’d be hooking up with two people at the same time! Especially not you two.”
“What does that mean?” Jason asks.
“Bart.” Tim’s breath caresses Jason’s cock, and Jason’s focus rips back to him. His voice is tender. “Are you coming?”
Bart runs a hand through his hair. It’s the stillest he’s been since he entered. No fidgeting. “Yeah. Sure.”
Wally starts, “No, Bart—”
But Bart’s already left Wally’s side and rounds the couch. He stops in front of Tim. He can't help but marvel at the sight—Roy grinding his cock against Tim’s hole, and Jason sitting loose-limbed beneath Tim on the other side. Bart’s face nearly matches his hair, but he nears.
“Hey,” says Tim, already lifting himself on one hand, eye-level with Bart’s crotch.
“Yeah. Wow. Long time no see. You know, I was looking forward to crossing paths in Gotham when I heard the entire operation was based here. So crazy that my wish came true, right? I never would’ve…” Bart releases a sharp meep as Tim reaches out and cups him through his suit deviously.
“Let’s catch up later, okay?”
“True. Right. Yeah, yeah, sure.” Wally’s breath draws from across the room, long-suffering, probably guessing exactly from Bart’s movements what he just whipped out, because Bart loses the suit in a millisecond. The guy’s dick is a monster on him, crowned with a flare of fiery red—less trimmed than Roy’s. Jason still can’t remember inviting the Leprechaun League here.
“I like this.” Tim slides fingers over Bart’s cock with an appreciative hum.
“That’s good.” Bart exhales. “Okay. Yeah. That’s… mm.”
Tim seals his lips around the tip—grabbing Bart’s hip and walking him forward. Bart sweeps Tim’s too-long hair away from his face. The sight of it rushes blood south and stirs something deep and bitter that Jason won’t explore now. It’s hot, and that’s what matters.
“Wally, you coming?” Roy asks.
“I don’t understand,” says Wally, finally. “Jason, aren’t you and Tim—”
“No,” Jason interrupts before he can say the word family. He’s never seen Tim, the pretty man caught between three men including him on this couch, as a little brother.
“Right, but…” Wally stops himself. “I’m guessing there’s no intel tonight, then.”
“Bingo.”
Wally mutters, but he doesn’t take his eyes away—not from Bart shedding his composure and not from Jason, who can’t help but look fucked-out. “Dick will kill me if I…”
“You think Dick knows?” Roy finally rummages between the cushions for the lube—stored there for Tim’s visits—squirting a generous amount over Tim’s hole impatiently. Without further ado, he sinks his tip inside of Tim, punching out a sweet, muffled breath.
“Good point.” Wally hasn’t budged, struggling with himself. “I… I think…”
Meanwhile, Bart asks, not a single qualm in his body over fucking Tim, “Can I go faster? Please?”
Tim pauses and pulls Bart’s hand closer to the top of his head. He nods.
“Shit. Thanks, dude.” Then Bart’s ramming his cock down Tim’s throat, his hand an idle force on Tim’s hair. Jason would intervene if it didn’t look like Tim was enjoying it so much, taking it like a doll. A spike of heat races down Jason’s spine, mingling with a flash of bitterness.
“...Dick would kill me,” Wally repeats to himself, but he’s coming closer.
Roy slams into Tim, hands gripping his hips vice tight and yanking him flush. Tim groans. Jason, needing to do something, slides out from under Tim and kneels in front of the couch. Bart accepts that as an invitation to rest his foot on the freed cushions for leverage, dropping his hips for a better angle.
“Oh shit. S—So glad you were here, dude… Needed this…” Bart groans. “Do you swallow?”
Already?
Tim nods, as best as he can, gripping onto the couch’s arm to stabilize himself. Roy rocks in deeper, a gasp tossing out of his mouth. Jason tries to pivot Tim to his side. Roy gets the hint and moves Tim from his stomach and helps, holding up one of his legs.
When Tim’s hard cock points straight at Jason, a white strand of pre-cum dangling from the flushed tip, Jason is ravenous. He runs his tongue across that pretty flesh, his lips closing around Tim’s cockhead. Though he’s not as experienced as Tim, Tim’s thighs wobble anyway, his hips stutter, and Tim cries out.
“Fuck, fuck…” Bart cries out.
Jason’s mouth is barely on Tim’s cock when he comes and the warm liquid stripes over his cheek, nearly squirting into his eye. Jason thumbs the cum off his skin, watching Tim’s stomach ripple like he’s had the core workout of his life.
Bart drags himself out of Tim’s mouth, pressing his tip against Tim’s plush lips. A look on his face like Tim’s mouth sedated him. But he’s still hard. Jason notices that instantly. Not a sign of it coming down, either. A speedster thing?
Jason hovers his cum-smeared thumb by Tim’s parted, rosy lips. “Go on.”
Tim, breathing hard, parts his lips.
Jason smears the cum from his thumb across Tim’s tongue. Obediently, Tim sucks Jason’s thumb, gazing up with those eyes that send Jason’s heart into a panic. “There you go. You’re so good. Do you want Wally in?”
Tim nods, eyelids droopy and still groaning.
Jason turns back and beckons. Bart looks back and jumps. In his fervour, he didn’t realize Wally’d ended up behind him.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Bart smirks.
Wally doesn’t reply, but unfastens the bottom of his suit. “We should move him.”
“The floor?” Jason asks.
“In a moment… fuck.” Roy groans then, pushing all he’s got into Tim. His mouth gapes, and he’s shuddering, holding Tim’s thigh tight enough to bruise. Tim whimpers as Roy goes perfectly still. He stays for a moment, eyes dazed, stuck on Tim, before pulling out viciously quick for the sake of it. Cum drips from his hole. Tim’s shaking at this point. “Jason, you were here first. You can…”
“Obviously.” Jason licks his lips.
They arrange themselves quickly.
Tim lies on his back between them like an artistic centerpiece. Jason claims the spot at his back, cupping under his hamstrings and pulling those powerful thighs astride him. Tim looks like a cloud spilled across Jason’s tan carpet, a blessing made of soft edges spooled before him. Blood races into his cock which chubs against the cleft of Tim's ass. Jason rubs his thumb into the divot of muscle in the back of his leg, feeling an old scar. The perfect blend of firm and soft is Tim’s body when it’s opening up for him.
But Tim's not even looking at him. Not yet, anyway. Jason can't help wondering when they'll get a moment to themselves again, away from all this raff. Wally's already dropped his cock onto Tim's face, hips thrusting slowly forward and back. Tim blindly holds the cocks on either side of him.
Roy thrusts against Tim’s palm slowly, while Bart pounds into Tim's hand, frantically and full of energy yet again, despite having just come. Jason focuses on the beauty that is Tim's asshole. The pinkish skin, puckered and glistening with lube and Roy’s cum. Jason pushes the tip of his cock against it. Not entering yet. Just cherishing, indulging himself.
Then he sinks inside him, trying to wire Tim's attention back to him. A soft sound leaves Tim. Jason takes credit for it in his head.
“So tight,” Jason murmurs. “You wish you were in here, don't you, Bart?”
Bart grunts wordlessly from Tim's side. “I’m, fuck, I’m next, right?”
“Mmm.” But Jason doesn’t care when or where Bart might have Tim. Not when he's inside of Tim right now, not when he's got him back in his safe house again, and not when some part of Tim belongs to him again.
He loses himself in it. When he looks up, as heat swallows his nerves, in search of Tim's dazed, beautiful eyes, he catches his lips, smeared with spit and pre-cum, mounted with Wally as he fucks into his throat.
“Fuck, he's good,” Wally babbles.
Jason squeezes his eyes shut and tunes him out, like that could barricade himself from the fact Tim's not alone with him. But Jason would be the last to complain about having Tim wrapped around him. Pulsating. Hot. Warm. Something that nearly felt like withdrawal when he’d ghosted.
He squeezes his thighs, like someone might rip it from his grasp if he doesn't keep it to himself right now.
“Fuck, Jason, are you almost done?” Bart.
"Close," he replies instead of saying, fuck off. Because he is. And his higher functioning skills are blinking off one by one. He bites his lower lip just to keep himself from babbling.
He presses deeper, to the hilt, and a gasp escapes him. Tim's stomach lurches. Spurts of cum spill over his stomach, in weak rivulets across his navel. Jason jerks him off, just to be mean, and the overstimulation makes him twitch. Just to have ownership over Tim finishing again.
When Tim moans, a low vibration in his chest that spreads to Jason, his stomach locks. He bucks once, twice, and he's come inside Tim, joining Roy's spunk. Jason stays there, locked, keeping him some seconds longer until his nerves calm. He pulls out and looks to where Wally's balls are slapping Tim's nose, his thighs bracketing his head, hands loosely curved on Tim's shoulders.
“Ugh, take it... You're so good, Tim. So good. Go on. It's all yours.”
Dazed, Jason peels himself away and trades spots with Bart, wrapping a looser grip around Tim's cock again. Tim, poor and oversensitive, squirms, just a beat away from thrashing. Jason smooths his fingers in a slow, soothing pattern on Tim's thigh, even as it's held up so Bart can take him.
Wally pulls out of Tim's mouth. Tim kisses the tip before Wally’s rubbing it over his face inelegantly. Jason might have one more round in him after a break, but he would've paced himself had he known two speedsters would be joining. Whatever.
Tim's panting, dragging kitten licks across Wally's cock when a vibration ripples from Tim's thigh. Tim whines. "Holy shit," Roy says, then laughs.
Jason’s head flips back to Bart. His whole body's vibrating. Tim's nearly squealing, if it can be called that, thighs shaking like each muscle is being dismantled from the inside out. Jason watches as Tim's stomach thrusts off the carpet, as his thigh twitches violently, and Bart's hunching over, coming in what feels like the same minute he entered Tim.
His words vibrate. “You're so warm, Tim. So good. Oh God, feels like I'm melting inside you. That feel good?”
Tim’s response is choked off and pitiful as he comes again, his body overrun with intense tremors. He's let go of Roy in favour of locking up and gasping. Jason's never seen him come back-to-back like that, and his face is a concerning shade of red, sweat across his body. Maybe they should've thought twice before bedding Tim with two metahumans in one night. Even if Tim agreed.
Wally's still rearing to go. Bart's not stopped. Actual tears spill from Tim's eyes. Wally caresses an endearing hand over Tim's cheeks, cock still falling over the side of his face. Roy pauses, checking. “You good there?”
Tim’s not in the mind to respond. He bats Jason’s hand, legs twisting.
"Bart," says Jason, already grasping his shoulder. The vibration is uncanny.
Bart stops before Jason does anything else, body frozen, wracked with visible shivers that mirror Tim's own. Tim sags, like a puppet with cut strings, but stays still like any motion could push him into catatonia.
“Shit, shit, shit. Was that too much?”
“A little,” Tim murmurs. “Was okay.”
“Sorry. I should’ve asked. I got so carried away.”
Jason palms Tim's chest. The touch induces shivers. "Let's take a break. And properly discuss what freaky abilities are allowed."
Wally frowns. "Don't lump me in with him."
"I just thought..." Bart swallows. "I'm so sorry."
Tim nods, legs falling shut, flopping on his side. He looks at Jason beseechingly and Jason scoops him up. Roy digs into the TV table drawer for a throw blanket, which he finesses over Tim as soon as Jason sets him down.
"I'll go grab you a bottle of water."
Jason always stocks up, for when the tap is on boil advisory. He retrieves the bottled water from the kitchenette fridge, settling on the edge of the cushions and putting it into Tim's palm. Tim gulps it down with gusto. He’s so sweaty he resembles a drowned rat.
"Done for the night?"
Tim shakes his head like the question itself is an offence. He crunches the bottle back into Jason's palm. "Just give me a moment.”
"Did I hurt you?" Bart asks worriedly, standing right in front of Tim.
"No," Tim says, almost shyly. "I liked it. Just... a lot.”
Roy returns with a wet towel from the bathroom, dabbing Tim's cheeks and chest. Wally sits imperiously on the armchair by the couch, eyes stuck on Tim like he's never tried staring elsewhere. Jason relates at the very least. Tim is gorgeous, even when he looks a little lost and fucked-out.
Jason puts the TV on. Reaches for the beer can Tim had nudged out of his hand earlier. He’ll give it ten minutes before Tim’s pulling it away from him again, climbing back into his lap. Or Wally’s.
Five minutes into Jason idly surfing cable, sipping on his beer, Tim is requesting an energy drink, quickly fetched by a guilty Bart. Jason keeps a bunch stocked up because Roy and Tim love the stuff. Tim sips it, and, again, assures Bart that he is fine.
When the mood calms sufficiently, Jason pauses the show. “So.”
“So,” Wally continues.
“No more powers,” Bart says, already nodding. “I won’t ever—”
“They weren’t terrible. I just need some getting used to it.” Tim draws another sip from the Zesti Energy can. “We’ll have rules.”
“Yeah. Okay. Of course,” says Bart.
Jason finally peels his eyes away from the speedsters. There’s no saying what he’ll do to Bart if he overwhelms Tim like that again, but it won't be pleasant for Bart. Tim carries on speaking, but not before tipping his head onto the side of Jason’s arm. Jason’s grip tenses on his beer ever so slightly before he relaxes.
“I don’t like being degraded in any way. Tell me before you vibrate. At least, until I’m used to it. And… I think that’s it. If I can talk, I’ll let you know if anything’s wrong. And if I can’t, I’ll pat you twice. Or Jason will tell you, like he did just now.”
Roy smirks at Jason, eying the skinship. Jason pretends not to notice. “And you’re sure that’s it?”
“Mmm.”
“Sounds good,” says Wally.
Jason shifts the beer to his other hand and casually, or as casually as he can, wraps one arm around Tim. Before he can take another sip, Tim removes the can from his hand and sets it on the table. When a heat festers in his gut, Jason half-wonders if he’s been conditioned to react whenever Tim grabs something from Jason’s hand like that. It always means Tim’ll be pushing himself into Jason’s grip soon enough.
Jason never says no.