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It started sometime between them reaching a truce after Jason came back to life and beat Tim within an inch of his life, and when Jason began disappearing with the Outlaws for weeks at a time. It was never an emotional connection. In fact, it was an argument that led to them sleeping together. Tensions built until the dam broke, and Jason pushed Tim against a wall, sticking his hand down the other’s pants.
They never tried to make it anything more than casual, barely even talking about it when it wasn’t happening. Tim never stayed afterwards, and Jason never asked him to.
Ultimately, Tim was the one to end it.
When Jason got back on planet from an Outlaw mission and, unthinkingly, went straight to the younger man’s apartment, Tim was on his way out. He shut down Jason’s attempt to talk before he could speak, shoving past him and muttering about how he was ‘gonna fix everything’. And when he returned, months later, with a recovered Bruce in tow, they didn’t talk about it. Neither of them sought the other out again. Whatever connection they’d had fizzled out and died. And neither cared.
At least, that’s what they told themselves.
Jason threw Tim to the ground with an audible thump, satisfied when he heard the air knock out of Tim's chest. The younger man panted against the mats as sweat dripped down his temple.
“That… was a… dirty move… you ass.”
Jason grinned down at him, “That's what you get for leaving yourself open.”
Tim flipped him off, holding out his other hand to be helped up. Jason pulled him to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder.
“‘Nother round?”
Tim stretched his arms above his head with a groan, his shirt rucking up to reveal a sliver of his waist. Jason's eyes were immediately drawn to a flash of red along Tim's side. At first glance, he thought it might be a fresh scar, but no, that was definitely red ink twisting along his skin. Jason could only see a fraction of the design, with the rest of it hidden by his shirt and dipping below the waistband of his RR pants. The mysterious art disappeared when Tim lowered his arms.
“As much as I love getting my ass handed to me, I have an assignment to start and finish by midnight tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “And I only have… twenty-two hours before then.”
Tim stepped off the sparring mats and made his way to his gym bag, dragging a towel along his forehead before he turned back to Jason.
“If you're free next Friday, I'm sparring with Dick, and I'd love to watch you kick his ass instead.” Tim offered.
Jason raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? You into that?”
He intended to fluster Tim with his comment, but the younger man grinned at him instead.
“Kinda.” He winked before tucking his towel away and slinging the bag onto his shoulder. “I also just think Dick’s been on a high horse recently because of the mafia operation he took down. I need him to come down a peg.”
Tim twisted to stretch out a tight muscle, pulling his shirt up again. Jason stared at the red lines, trying to figure out the design, but Tim finished stretching before he could.
“Yeah, he's really putting the Dick in dickhead.”
Tim let out a breath of laughter, mumbling “classic” as he slipped into his sandals.
“Alright, see ya, Jason. You looked good out there tonight.” Tim waved over his shoulder, not looking back as he made his way to the elevator to return to the manor.
Jason stayed in place, realising he hadn't moved during that whole conversation.
“That was hard to watch.”
Jason flinched and turned to the Batcomputer, where Damian was now facing him with a disgusted expression. The teen was curled up on the chair so he'd be undetectable while it was turned around.
“I fucking forgot you were there,” Jason admitted.
“Tt, obviously.” Damian rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his knees and rested his chin there. “Are you two sleeping together?”
“What? No!” Not anymore.
“You could have fooled me.”
Jason frowned. He needed their topic of conversation to change immediately.
“Does Tim have a tattoo?”
Damian thought about it for a moment. He looked like he was mentally going through a filing cabinet.
“Probably. He did a lot of questionable things while he was working with my grandfather.” He turned and typed something into the computer. “If he does, Father has no record of it.”
“Hm, alright. Thanks, ahki.” Jason picked up his own sports bag as he wandered over to the computer. “Don't you have school tomorrow?”
“Today is Saturday.”
“... I thought it was Tuesday.”
Damian gave him an almost concerned look, “You should probably sleep more.”
Jason ruffled his hair, earning an annoyed hiss. “Ditto, brat.”
Damian swatted his hand away, then pushed him back with a muttered curse.
“Be gone, Todd. I am working.”
“Alright, alright!” Jason smiled at his little brother before he turned on his heels and started back to his bike. “Don't do drugs!”
Damian flipped him off as he drove away.
“I need backup!” Tim growled into his comm as he dodged another knife-wielding scarecrow goon.
He kicked the goon's chest, sending him back as another henchman wrapped his arms around Tim's shoulders. Tim cursed and threw them both onto the floor, using his assailant to cushion the fall. Before he could get up, a third grabbed his ankle and pulled.
“Backup!” Tim shouted again, pushing his captured foot into the guy’s gut. His hold didn't waver. Tim, lashing out with his other leg, kicked him in the groin with as much power as possible, given that he was still lying with his back to the ground. This time, he let go, allowing Tim to scrabble across the floor until he could stand back up, now cornered in the burner warehouse. He searched around frantically; there were still seven goons moving to crowd him, and he was pretty sure he had a stab wound somewhere. He panted hard as he raised his hands to defend himself.
Crash!
In a flash of red and fury, Red Hood smashed through the roof, colliding directly into two of the henchmen to knock them out before punching three in the face and shooting bullets into four kneecaps. A chorus of groans, swears and screams sang through the air as Hood moved with the precision of one of his bullets.
Tim could only watch with heated interest as he swayed; he was definitely losing blood.
Once everyone but Tim and Jason were on the floor, the latter turned to Tim, panting heavily.
“My saviour,” Tim muttered while he slid to a sitting position on the floor, unable to hold himself up anymore, adding with a growl, “You bloody took long enough.”
“I was across town, Babybird. My bike only goes so fast.”
“Imma fix that when I'm fixed first.”
“Fixed?” Hood stepped over a body to get closer.
“I was stabbed somewhere… My hip?” Tim groaned as Jason pulled him up and slung an arm around his waist. He hissed out a string of curses when a new pain buzzed through him. “Shit, something's broken.”
“Like ‘don't move my spine’ type broken?” Jason paused their movement, resting a hand on Tim’s chest to steady him.
“Like ‘I'm getting a lecture and benched for a month’ type broken.”
“Ah, so just a few ribs.” They hobbled out of the warehouse, ignoring the flames around them. “Wing and Batgirl are getting the bodies out, fire departments on their way.”
“Thanks, Hood. Can you drive me to the cave?” Tim was clinging to Jason now, mind blurring as he bled out.
“Are you gonna fall off if you ride bitch?”
“There's a joke about riding in there, but no, I'll be fine.” Despite himself, Tim still accepted Jason's help onto the bike. Once Jason had mounted the bike, Tim wrapped his arms around the other and pressed his head against Jason's back, taking in a deep breath of his leather and gunpowder scent. Jason patted Tim’s arms to make him hold on tighter before they took off quickly.
Once at the cave, Alfred was already waiting with hands on hips. Tim cursed quietly behind Jason as they pulled up.
“Master Timothy.”
Jason helped Tim off the bike and dragged him towards his doom as they followed Alfred to the medbay.
“You are very lucky Master Bruce is still in the field, or you would have him to deal with. Until then, you have me.”
“A much worse option,” Jason whispered as he placed Tim onto one of the cots. Tim looked like a kicked puppy as Alfred started his rant about wearing outdated costumes and always preparing backup.
Jason stood back, leaning against a wall, as he watched Tim lie down so that Alfred could clean and stitch his wound. Their eyes met as Tim winced from a mixture of pain and shame. He shot Jason a pleading look, but only got a shrug in return.
“My new costume is being fixed because the cape wouldn’t detach.” Tim tried to reason, but earned a smack on the shoulder.
“Then you should have asked Miss Cassandra to cover your patrol.” As Alfred moved, a glimpse of red came into view. Jason immediately craned his neck to see more, but Alfred moved again, blocking his view. He frowned. “This costume is two upgrades old, and now you'll have to recover before you can consider going back out.”
Tim twisted to look at his hip, face dropping with disappointment. “Is it going to scar?”
“Barely noticeable,” Alfred promised. “Master Jason, please go get Master Tim a Gatorade to rehydrate while he fills in his report.”
“On it.” Jason left for the cave fridge, retrieving a red Gatorade and a protein bar quickly. When he returned, Tim was sitting up, now dressed in a t-shirt and loose pants. Alfred's reprimands had transitioned into improper binding for exercise, which drew Jason's attention to the pile of wide, bloody bandages now sitting next to Tim. His head hung shamefully, and mumbled a quiet thanks when Jason handed him the bottle and bar.
“It is simply irresponsible!”
Jason cringed. Alfred rarely raised his voice at them, so Tim must have binded too tightly as well.
“Alf, please, I know, okay? He's gonna bench me anyway, he doesn't need to know.”
Alfred was quiet for a long beat, watching Tim with analytical eyes, before he sighed.
“If this happens again, I will confiscate all your suits, and you will have to wait until another is made.”
Tim nodded weakly. With that, Alfred left the two men alone, returning to his other duties now that Tim was patched up.
Jason sucked air in through his teeth, then dragged a chair to sit beside the bed.
“Yikes, I haven't seen Alfred tear into someone like that since Bruce tried to hide his last broken leg.”
“I deserved it.” Tim pushed the bandages into a bin, then laid back down on the cot. Cushions propped him up enough to sip at his drink.
“I… I thought you'd gotten the surgery.” Jason admitted. Tim shrugged.
“I thought about it, but sometimes I don't mind as much.” He said uncommittedly. “They're good when I want to wear a dress or go undercover.”
The image of Tim in a dress suddenly appeared in Jason’s mind. He wondered what kind of dresses were hiding in Tim's closet. Maybe he had something long and silky, with elegant, well-placed cut-outs that would put that red ink on display, for everyone to see but not touch. Jason wanted to touch.
“Do you have a tattoo?”
Tim froze mid-sip, then slowly lowered the bottle and held it in his lap.
“... No…”
“Really?”
“If I did, would it be used as blackmail against me?”
“Is someone blackmailing you?”
“Steph made me upgrade her home setup in exchange for her silence.”
Jason rubbed at his chin like he was considering how he could use the information against Tim.
“Jay, please,” Tim whined softly.
Jason's brain short-circuited at the younger man’s tone. His voice was weak and breathless, and maybe Jason should evaluate why that was affecting him… But not right now.
“Can I see?”
“The tattoo or my tits?”
Fuck.
Jason coughed while Tim smirked. Once he recovered, he sat up straighter and levelled Tim with a challenging look.
“Both?”
Tim laughed lightly before wincing when his injured side jostled. He opened his mouth to reply before a voice bellowed through the cave.
“Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne!” Tim cringed at the anger in Bruce’s shout.
“Maybe next time, big boy.” Tim stood and started slowly towards the cave’s main area. He patted Jason’s thigh as he shuffled past, squeezing on the last hit.
A month after Tim was benched for ‘unsafe vigilante practices’, Jason still hadn’t gotten a chance to see Tim’s full tattoo.
Or anything else, for that matter.
Tim had been benched for two weeks and, to stay busy, he’d been cooped up in his apartment getting ahead of his assignments and working on some Wayne Enterprise stuff. Two more weeks on, he had tunnel-visioned to the point of restructuring WE’s charity distributions to increase donations and maximise deductibles.
So, when Jason crawled in through the other's window, Tim was already looking at him over his laptop screen. Tim was curled up on his couch, with an anime playing unwatched on the TV.
“Y’know, I have a door.”
Jason looked at the door and shrugged.
“What can I do for you, Jay?” Tim looked back at his computer and continued typing quickly.
Jason moved to sit across from him on the other end of the couch. He glanced at the TV. The characters were speaking in Japanese with no subtitles. Japanese was one of the few languages Jason hadn’t mastered during his Robin days, and he had been too busy to learn it once he’d returned from the grave.
“You speak Japanese?”
Tim laughed. It was a dumb question. Of course Tim did. He and Bruce were neck-and-neck on who spoke the most languages.
“It’s my first language… My mum was Japanese.”
Jason could shoot himself right now. He was blowing this.
“Right.”
“It’s kinda cute when you blush,” Tim mumbled. Jason’s head snapped to him, but the other man was still typing rapidly, though the corners of his lips were starting to curve up. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here just for my wiki bio.”
“Can I see your tattoo?” Smooth, Todd, real smooth.
Tim’s fingers halted. He looked up at Jason through his lashes, a challenge burning in his eyes. Then he shut his computer and placed it beside him, as his eyes remained on him. Jason suddenly felt like prey under Tim’s analytical, roaming gaze.
“Can you move well in those clothes?” Tim asked.
Jason was wearing a simple outfit - jeans and a t-shirt - but he didn’t know what that had to do with seeing Tim’s tattoo.
“Uh, yeah.”
Tim smiled.
“Good, we’re gonna spar.” He stood and started walking away. Jason stood to follow, but Tim put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “I’m going to put on a sports bra, stay here.”
Jason obediently sank back into the couch cushion but couldn’t stop his eyes from following Tim as he walked into his room and shut the door.
When Tim returned, he was dressed in black tights and an oversized shirt that tightened at his hips to keep it from moving too much.
“Come here,” Tim ordered.
Jason kept his movements measured as he definitely didn’t hurry off the couch to join Tim on his sparring mats.
“If you beat me, I’ll show you my tattoo.”
Jason’s heart skipped a beat, “And if you win?”
Tim shook his head, “You just have to beat me.”
“Oh, Babybird, that's not a fair bet.”
“We’ll see.”
Jason came in hard, a wall of muscle and momentum. His jab was a feint, the real danger in the right hook that followed, heavy enough to assert power. Tim slipped under it, feeling the air of it brush the back of his neck. He pivoted out of reach, light on his feet.
“Stop dancing and fight me, birdie,” Jason growled, straightening up.
Tim grinned behind his guard, “You sure? You look winded already.”
Jason lunged, aiming to grab and overpower. Tim let him, just for a second, allowing him to think he had a chance of winning. Then Tim twisted, ducked, and used Jason’s own momentum to roll them both. The world snapped sideways before Jason hit the mats with a grunt.
Before he could recover, Tim slid over his back, pulling Jason’s wrist between his shoulder blades and pressing his thighs on either side of Jason’s hip. Jason’s breath came out in a frustrated huff as he tried to toss Tim off.
“You see, Jason,” Tim began, voice dangerously low.
“I’m running on eight hours of sleep, just the right amount of caffeine, and all my meds.” Tim twisted Jason’s arm up higher until he hissed and slapped the map beneath them, “While you patrolled an extra two hours last night, and slept three. And I know for a fact you haven’t eaten a real meal in two days.”
Despite conceding, Tim only loosened his grip slightly and remained comfortably seated across Jason’s thighs.
“Am… Am I being punished?”
Tim leant in close, pressing his front along Jason’s back, until he could breathe into the other’s ear.
“Yes.” A shiver ran through Jason's spine. “Do you want to try again?”
“Do I get a reward then?”
“Only if you do good.”
It was only by the will of God that Jason didn’t moan.
“I’m gonna kick your ass.” He growled instead.
Suddenly, Tim’s weight disappeared before Jason was flipped and pulled to his feet in such a fluid motion that he swayed. Tim smirked at him as they moved back into their starting stances.
Jason lunged quickly, throwing his weight forward as he tried to tackle Tim off his feet, but Tim slid out of the way, throwing a quick jab that Jason easily countered.
Tim’s apartment was quiet except for the dull thud of hits and the sound of breathing. Jason’s panting, rough and uneven, echoed too loudly in the still air. Tim was right. He’d been too focused on his current case to take care of himself, and now he was feeling the consequences. The exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, but his stubbornness burned hotter.
“C’mon,” he growled, circling. “You’re not gonna win just running laps around me.”
Tim’s stance stayed loose, his hands ready and steps measured. “You should give up. You’re slow.”
Jason’s grin was all teeth, “Still fast enough to hit you.”
He surged forward, jabbing twice quickly, then swung a heavy hook meant to catch Tim’s shoulder. Tim ducked under it, countering with a palm strike that Jason barely managed to block.
Jason kept pressing, relying on sheer force to close the distance. He aimed low with a sweeping kick. Tim jumped, spinning midair to land light and balanced. Jason lunged again, with a fist aimed for Tim’s sternum. His breathing was ragged as he moved.
Tim blocked Jason’s fist with his forearm, deflecting the second hit with an open palm. He redirected each strike just enough to alter the flow of the fight, never taking the full brunt of Jason’s attacks. He slipped to the side, close enough that Jason could feel the whisper of his breath, and sent a sharp elbow toward Jason’s ribs. Jason grunted, twisted, and shoved him back with a burst of strength that nearly broke Tim’s footing.
They reset, Jason panting, Tim calm. His eyes darted across Jason’s form, calculating angles.
Jason charged again, leading with a shoulder and trying to grapple. Tim let him, moving with the motion so they landed in each other’s space, before shifting. His hand gripped Jason’s forearm as he pivoted on his heels. And in one smooth motion, Tim used the short distance between them to his advantage. His body snapped around, legs coiling and then locking high around Jason’s thighs.
Jason gasped as Tim twisted their hips, and suddenly his balance went out from under him. His back met the mats with a heavy whomp, knocking the air out of him. Before he could recover, Tim dropped into position, thighs tight around Jason’s arms, and pinned his shoulders. His hand pressed firmly to Jason’s chest, keeping him down.
Jason strained once, muscles flexing under Tim’s grip, but the exhaustion caught up with him. His arms trembled, then stilled.
“Tap,” Tim instructed, quiet but firm.
Jason stared up at him for a beat, chest heaving. Then, finally, his palm hit the mat with a weak smack. Tim sat up straight and pushed his hair out of his face. He was grinning triumphantly.
“Maybe next time.”
Jason growled, then bucked his hips up, sending Tim forward until he had to catch himself with one hand beside Jason’s head, and the other against his chest again. For a foolish moment, Jason thought he’d managed to unsteady Tim’s confidence, until Tim’s hand closed around his throat, not applying any real pressure, just holding him.
Jason swallowed against his palm.
“Another dirty trick, Jay.”
Jason couldn’t respond, his mouth suddenly dry. Tim leaned in closer until their faces were an inch apart. His hand tightened and, this time, Jason’s breath hitched. Tim smiled.
“I expected as much, though.” Tim leaned in even closer. Jason felt himself press against Tim’s hand to try to close the gap, but the hold tightened, and he gasped instead.
Tim smirked.
So close, so close.
Then, all at once, Tim’s entire presence disappeared. His hold, his scent, his warmth: gone.
Tim wiped at his forehead as he snatched up his laptop and slung a bag over his shoulder, ignoring Jason, who remained dumbfounded on the mats.
“I’ve got a class to get to, but thanks, that was fun.” Tim nudged Jason’s leg as he passed. “Be a good boy and lock up for me. See you next time!”
Jason’s mind was reeling. Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently touched his throat, almost missing the pressure. He consciously didn’t think about how tight his jeans now felt, hoping Tim hadn’t noticed but knowing he definitely did.
“What the fuck?”
Instead of understanding that Tim had some crazy upper hand over him, Jason now felt challenged. And Jason was not a man to back down from a fight.
That’s how he ended up having Tim pinned face-first against a wall on a rooftop, with the younger’s arms held tightly behind his back.
Tim chuckled as he tried to wriggle out of Jason’s hold.
“I thought you were uptown.” Tim hissed as he felt Jason’s hand grope down the front of his costume.
“Had to catch you off guard,” Jason growled into his ear as his hand dug into Tim’s waist, earning a surprised squeak. “Where the fuck does your suit open?”
Tim laughed.
“Special design, only a handful of people know how to open my suits,” Jason kept feeling around, searching for a seam. “Alfred, Steph… Kon.”
Something burned in Jason’s chest at the mention of the clone. He growled again before quickly turning Tim around and pinning his hands above his head.
“You’re a little shit.”
“Jealousy’s a good look on you.”
Jason gripped Tim’s wrists harder, earning a faint groan, but Tim continued to grin.
“That all you got, Hood? I’m a bit disappointed.”
Jason snarled before he reached behind him, then pulled out a knife and held it close to Tim’s hip. The younger man didn’t even falter.
“I was wrong, desperate is an even better look on you.” The knife pressed against the Kevlar on Tim’s hip, not cutting yet but applying the pressure of promise.
“Just show me.” Jason tried to reason. All Tim had to do was show him and they could stop playing this game.
Without warning, Tim’s leg hooked behind Jason’s knee and pulled him forward until they were chest to chest. Tim then pushed forward to close the distance, colliding their lips together. Shocked, Jason immediately dropped the knife and slid his hand across Tim’s body until it found the small of his back and pulled the other man even closer.
Tim’s tongue pushed past his lips and dominated his mouth with a moan. Jason’s hold on his wrists fell away so he could cup Tim’s neck in an attempt to catch up, but Tim’s hands immediately landed in his hair and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Jason’s groan turned to a moan as Tim’s knee pushed between his legs and pressed firmly against his crotch.
They broke apart with gasping breaths. Tim chose to attack Jason’s neck instead, nipping at the sliver of skin the Kevlar didn’t cover while Jason panted.
“Ti-”
Tim’s hand pulled his hair sharply.
“Names.” He warned, biting harder.
“Red,”
Tim growled approvingly, sending a shiver down Jason’s spine.
“Fuck, Red, please.”
Just as unexpectedly as the kiss, Tim maneuvered Jason back a step before he dropped to his knees and started working on the buckle of Jason’s pants.
“Fuck.”
Tim made quick work of the fastening before he pushed fabric and Kevlar out of his way, then looked back up. His lust-filled eyes trained on Jason.
“Do you want me to stop?” It wasn’t the first time Tim had asked him that while on his knees, in the shadows of a rooftop. Hell, if Jason were on his knees asking instead, it still wouldn’t be the first time.
“No.” He finally panted out.
Tim smirked, then wrapped his fingers around Jason’s hardening cock. His gloved hand was warm and firm as he stoked him to full hardness, thumbing over the head.
With one hand against the wall for support, Jason’s other hand fell against Tim’s hair, curling into the locks loosely. It didn’t take a genius to know he wasn’t in charge right now.
Tim’s hand was quickly replaced by his mouth, hot against Jason’s sensitive skin. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as Tim held his gaze, watching him through the lenses of his domino. His hips twitched involuntarily, but Tim held him in place easily with a hand curled around the back of his thigh. He moaned, hanging his head and watching as his cock disappeared past Tim’s lips. It was a sight he’d never gotten tired of, and missed when they’d stopped seeing each other.
Once Tim took him in fully, face framed in the V of his hips, he swirled his tongue around the length before hollowing his cheeks. Jason gritted his teeth, trying to stay quiet, almost not wanting to give Tim the satisfaction, but then the younger man began to pull away, sucking as he went, only to slide back in eagerly.
He continued working along Jason’s cock until his cheeks were flushed red and his lips were spit-slick, with Jason’s breath growing more and more ragged above him. Tim swallowed around him as he moaned, sending vibrations through Jason's whole body.
“Oh, fuck. Red, I’m gonna- ngh!” Jason let out a broken moan as he came, fingers twitching with the desperate need to grip at Tim’s hair. Tim tugged him closer, holding him steady through his orgasm, before he pulled back.
He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and smirked up at Jason, who was still panting and using the wall behind Tim for support. Tim let out an amused breath before he tucked Jason back into his pants and righted his clothes, picking up the knife Jason had dropped and jumping to his feet. He grabbed Jason’s face like he owned him and pulled him in for another quick but bruising kiss.
“This is mine now.” He said, lightly pressing the knife’s edge against Jason’s collarbone. Jason found himself nodding obediently. “Good boy.”
Jason let out a breathy whine, earning another, gentler kiss.
“Next time,” Tim promised.
He nodded again, and between one blink and the next, Tim disappeared.
Jason moved so his back was to the wall, then sat down, leaning against it before fishing out his cigarette packet from a pocket and lighting one. He took a deep, soothing drag, revelling in the feeling of smoke swirling into his lungs. It was a familiar practice, especially from back when they had been sleeping together regularly.
“Got me fucked up, Red.” He said into the air.
Tim wasn’t there anymore, but Jason felt like he was still heard.
Sweat was dripping down Tim’s face as he sparred with Dick, both of them unrelenting in their attempts to win. Dick was panting with each swing, trying to use his advanced flexibility to his advantage, but Tim matched him with speed and sly hits that hurt more than expected.
They’d been going for forty minutes, racking up wins. Tim’s score sat triumphantly at four and Dick’s begrudgingly at three. Jason couldn’t stop watching from where he sat with Steph and Cass.
“What is happening?” He finally asked the blonde beside him quietly. She shrugged, still sore from her sparring with Tim, before Dick took her place after she lost.
“Dick had a fight with Wally. I don’t know what’s up with Tim.”
“Aren’t you two ‘besties’?”
Steph frowned.
“We… Are. Tim just keeps a lot of things to himself since he got back.”
This time, Jason frowned and returned his attention to the sparring. Just in time, as he watched Tim twist around Dick like a venomous snake rearing up to strike. He snapped, and suddenly Dick crashed into the mats roughly, with Tim pinning him down with a dark, unreadable expression. Dick tried to fight the smaller man, but Tim was unmovable, and Dick quickly gave in, going limp. Tim sucked in a breath, seemingly returning to his body, and stood from his position, pulling Dick up with him.
“That’s five, I win.”
“It wasn’t a competition.”
Tim shrugged.
“Yeah, it was. Who’s next?”
Before Jason could volunteer as an eager sacrifice, Steph cut in.
“I think that’s enough for you, Timbo. Let the big boys bond for a bit.”
Tim frowned but agreed, moving to take Jason’s place as he stood for his turn. Tim quickly paused and gently put a hand on Jason’s upper arm.
“If you win, I’ll give you your reward.”
Jason's head whipped towards him, catching the mischievous glint in Tim’s eyes. He nodded, a new wave of determination rushing through him. He moved quickly to join Dick on the mats.
They circled each other slowly before Dick moved in to strike, throwing out jabs that Jason quickly blocked. Dick weaved, slipping into Jason’s space and landing a quick shot to the ribs. Jason grunted and moved to put space between them. Dick ducked low and aimed a hook for Jason’s side again, but the younger man caught his arm quickly and stepped in swiftly, throwing his shoulder into Dick's chest and sending him stumbling back
“Lucky shot.” Dick panted as Jason smirked.
Jason moved closer, determined, and aimed heavy hits at his brother. Dick dodged and countered the first few, but as Jason’s swings grew wider, Dick got sloppy as he tried to dodge more than return hits. He landed a kick against Jason’s hip that slowed the other man down, but stepped wrong, causing his stance to wobble. Jason caught the opening and struck. His closed fist collided against Dick’s jaw, not enough to injure, but it still sent him sprawling to the mat with a grunt.
“That was sloppy, bro.”
Dick stayed on the ground, panting and sweating against the rubber flooring.
“I know.” He admitted.
“Just go talk to Wally.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “Relationship advice from you?”
Jason squinted at him before kicking him lightly in the side.
“Ow!” Dick shooed him away, then rolled over and onto his feet. “Alright, now that I've had my ass thoroughly kicked, I’m gonna go fix my relationship.”
“Damn, gonna have three ass whoopings in one day.” Steph snarked, earning Dick’s middle finger as he walked away. Tim laughed and high-fived Steph before he looked back at the mats and made eye contact with Jason. The older man stared back at him with burning want.
“I’m gonna head home,” Tim said quickly. “Steph, Cass, lunch on Saturday?”
They both nodded eagerly as Tim stood and walked towards Jason.
“Oh, can you cover my patrol on Friday?” Steph asked quickly. “Bruce scheduled me on date night.”
“Sure, but you have to take my Monday.”
“Deal. You’re the best, Timmy!”
“I know!” He chuckled, then focused on Jason. “You gonna shower?”
Jason nodded jerkily, then followed Tim towards the showers. Steph blanched with realisation before she took Cass’ hand and hurried them both out of the cave.
At the showers, Jason tried to follow Tim into his cubicle. Tim laughed and pressed a hand against Jason’s chest.
“Dude, Bruce has cameras in here.”
Jason glowered. Tim smirked and pulled him down by the front of his shirt, pressing their lips together gently. Jason melted into the kiss, laying his hands on Tim’s shoulders to steady himself.
“I missed you,” Tim admitted when they pulled apart.
“Same, so much.” Jason’s own words surprised him, which must have been obvious because Tim smiled and kissed him again briefly before he patted Jason’s chest.
“Go shower, then we’re going to my apartment.”
“Fuck, yes.” Jason hurried away to shower as Tim started his own.
Tim drove them back to his apartment, maintaining the façade of calm and collected, while Jason felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. As Tim drove, he placed a hand on Jason’s thigh, squeezing just once before it rested there. It helped Jason temper slightly. He honed his attention in on the contact, admiring the contrast of Tim’s slender hand against his thick thigh. God, he wanted to devour the other man.
They parked, and Jason followed Tim obediently to the elevator. Inside, he twitched to reach for Tim, needing to touch him again, but Tim merely pressed a hand to his lower back and mumbled ‘relax’.
It wasn’t until Tim had fished out his keys and was unlocking his apartment door that Jason let himself touch the other. His hands landed on Tim’s hips as he attached himself along Tim’s back and started mouthing at his neck. Tim chuckled breathily, but didn’t stop him.
Once inside, Jason shut and locked the door firmly behind them as Tim turned on his heels and jumped at him. His arms immediately wrapped around Jason’s shoulders as he pulled him in and slotted their lips together. Jason moaned into the kiss, hands finding Tim’s hips again before he started walking them towards Tim’s bedroom.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this - missed you,” Tim admitted when he pulled away to slip his hands under Jason’s shirt. He pushed it up and over Jason’s head, he then dragged his nails down Jason’s front, leaving thin red lines along his torso. Hunger consumed his eyes as he watched the colour bloom.
“I’ve been going fucking crazy.” Jason’s hands landed at Tim’s waistband, fiddling with the tied strings before shoving away the offending fabric.
“I know,” Tim said smugly.
Jason growled, then pushed him roughly, causing him to fall backwards onto his bed. Tim gasped as he bounced, then chuckled when Jason crowded him into the sheets and started mouthing at his neck again, focusing along the raised scar there.
Tim reached between them to push against the waistband of Jason’s sweatpants, until his hands curled under the fabric and groped along the other’s cheeks. Tim used his hold to pull Jason down to grind the front of his boxers against Jason’s clothed erection. Jason moaned against his skin, biting at his trachea before he pulled back quickly. He rucked off his sweats and boxers in one fluid motion, leaving his naked body on display. Tim’s dark eyes roved over the plains of hard muscle eagerly.
“You’re too dressed.” Jason declared.
“I agree, come fix it.”
Jason grinned and then dove towards him, making quick work of his boxers. He threw the garment away before he sat back on his knees to take in the sight. He felt the same desperate hunger he’d felt before Tim left all those months ago, the overwhelming need to consume him. It made it hard for Jason to think.
“Can I… Please?” He panted around the words, unable to form the sentence, but Tim smiled at him, already knowing.
“Yes, Jason, I need you - ngh!” Tim’s hands curled into his sheets as Jason’s mouth found home between his legs, lapping at the wetness that gathered there. Tim moaned and arched against Jason's lips.
As Jason flicked his tongue against Tim’s clit, his hand slid up the bed, repositioning one of Tim’s legs over his shoulder, before he reached between them and pressed a finger into Tim’s warmth. He crooked his finger experimentally and grinned when Tim let out a stuttered moan. Once Tim had adjusted to the slight stretch, Jason pushed in another finger, scissoring them and rubbing against Tim’s inner walls.
As he continued to fuck his fingers into Tim’s warmth, his free hand travelled up Tim’s side where he knew the tattoo sat. He couldn’t see the design, but just the thought of touching the intricate red lines had him grinning against the bed. He teased along Tim’s ribs then reached higher to grope at his breast, pinching at the pique of his nipple.
Tim whined high in the back of his throat as he started to squirm against Jason’s mouth, unable to decide if he wanted to escape the pleasure or push into it.
“Jay, shit, I’m gonna-” He moaned when Jason focused on the bundle of nerves that drove him insane. “Jay, Jay, fuck.”
“C’mon, baby, give it to me, please,” Jason begged quickly.
Tim cried out as he came, clamping his legs shut and trapping Jason between them. The older man didn’t protest, only focused on consuming every drop of him, moaning at the taste even as he struggled to breathe.
When Tim finally relaxed, Jason leaned up with a ragged breath, mouth glistening as he grinned happily. Tim’s whole face reddened at the sight of Jason thoroughly debauched.
Now that he had gotten his first fix, Jason could finally pay enough attention to register the extent of Tim’s tattoo that he could see.
The bottom of the design wound down Tim’s hip and thigh. Its scaled body danced along his skin as a gentle mane cascaded down its back, and its tail curled behind the back of his leg. Jason reached for the tattoo without thinking, fingers ghosting over the red ink as he took in the intricacies. He traced the creature’s clawed feet before trailing up to where the rest was hidden under Tim’s shirt. He glanced at Tim needily.
“Please.”
Tim grinned, then sat up and reached for Jason. He went willingly, meeting Tim halfway. They kissed deeply, tongues sliding together in a slow, heated drag. When Tim pulled away, he grasped at the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his bare chest and the rest of the red ink that decorated his side.
A dragon.
Jason couldn’t stop himself from touching it again. The idea of any of them having tattoos felt so taboo when they’d all grown up being told they couldn’t have identifying marks. In that moment, Jason couldn’t remember what Tim had looked like without the beautiful design. He felt along the scales until he could thumb at the dragon’s gentle, whiskered face. It had a calm expression that suited Tim perfectly.
“It’s beautiful.” He whispered, hypnotised by the act of rebellion.
“Thank you,” Tim said, bashful for the first time since Jason had discovered red ink.
“You’re beautiful.”
Tim smiled, charmed. He cupped Jason’s face and kissed him again.
“You’re not too bad yourself. Now…”
Eerily familiar to their sparring matches, Jason’s whole world spun on its axis before he found himself pressed into the sheets as Tim straddled his hips.
“Time for your reward.” Tim ground his hips against Jason’s cock teasingly, causing Jason to drop his back into the pillows with a groan. “Do you think you deserve it?” He asked wickedly.
Above Jason, Tim was a vision. His iridescent skin contrasted beautifully against Jason’s darker complexion where their hips met, and the red ink of the tattoo, partnered with the pale marks of scars, made him look like a piece of art. Art that only Jason got to see like this.
“Please,” Jason begged eagerly. “Please, Tim, I've been so good, I’ll be so good. Please.”
Tim grinned down at him dangerously. “Good boy.”
Jason whined this time, as Tim lifted off his hips slightly to make room for his aching cock. Jason watched, mesmerised, as Tim aligned himself, then sank down slowly, causing them both to moan. Tim continued to ease himself onto Jason’s cock until Jason was fully sheathed and their hips met. He wiggled slightly, getting used to the delicious stretch and dragging another whine out of Jason.
Jason’s hands found Tim’s hips, his touch delicate. He was careful not to steal control, but used the contact to ground himself so that he didn’t accidentally buck up until the coiling pleasure.
“Fuck,” He panted needily. “Babybird, please move, please.”
“Such good manners.”
Tim rewarded Jason by lifting his hips until just the head of his cock connected them, before dropping down and making them both cry out in pleasure. Tim used his hands against Jason’s chest for balance as he started a brutal pace, bouncing on Jason’s cock until they were both sweating and unable to form full sentences.
As Tim’s motion grew laboured, Jason met him on the next thrust, pushing into him hungrily.
Tim mewled. “Harder!”
Taking the order as permission, Jason flipped them before pulling back and thrusting back in with a grunt. Tim’s hands reached across Jason’s shoulders, his nails biting into Jason's skin hotly. Jason leant down to take one of Tim’s breasts into his mouth, laving his tongue across the nipple and dragging a pitched moan out of Tim.
“Fuck, yes, harder. Jason, fuck!”
Jason growled, rocking forward faster. The wet sound of skin slapping together surrounded them like a melody, urging Jason on. He moved to the other nipple as Tim’s fingers slid up his neck and curled into his hair tightly. A rough tug had Jason’s rhythm stuttering.
“I’m gonna- fuck- baby, please, please, can I?” Jason's hand slipped between them until he could rub against Tim’s clit.
Tim cried out desperately. “Yes! Good boy, give it to me, I want to feel you.”
Jason let out a final moan before he thrusted forward and came with a broken groan. Tim held onto him as Jason rode out his orgasm. He swiped a hand across Jason’s hairline to push the white streak out of his face.
Once he recovered, Jason started to move in shallow thrusts, grinding slowly but deeply as he massaged Tim’s sex. Tim’s breath hitched as he arched slightly before tumbling over the edge a moment later. Jason continued to fucking him gently through his orgasm until he twitched from overstimulation.
Jason pulled out carefully, then leaned forward to press a light kiss to the corner of Tim’s mouth. Tim could only hum against the affection, still panting. He whined when Jason pulled away, then disappeared into Tim’s attached bathroom.
Tim vaguely registered the sound of running water, and he was already starting to doze off when Jason returned with a damp cloth and started wiping across his flushed skin. He hummed again, making grabby hands in Jason’s direction. The older man chuckled.
“Almost done, baby.” He promised, voice rough, before disappearing again. When he returned the next time, he manoeuvred Tim easily until he was under his warm pile of blankets, then stripped away the messy top blanket and discarded it to the floor to be washed later.
“Jay,” Tim whined, eyes closed as he felt around the bed for him. Jason let out an amused breath as he followed the beckon and climbed under the blankets to curl his arms around Tim and pull him close. Tim wrapped an arm around Jason’s torso and hooked a leg over his.
Jason’s fingers ghosted along Tim’s side again, tracing soothing patterns over the tattoo he now knew was there, when he suddenly remembered Tim’s comment about dresses.
“Hey… Next time you wear a dress,” Jason mumbled, barely audible, “I’d like to see.”
Tim smiled at the soft admission.
“Next time I wear a dress, you can be the one to take it off.”
Despite the tiredness pulling on his mind, a shiver still ran down Jason's spine.
He pressed a kiss to the top of Tim’s head and hugged him closer. He only managed to listen to Tim’s even breathing for a minute before he fell asleep as well.