[If Tim's honest with himself (and he isn't always), that danger that surrounds Jason - the knowledge of what he's done in the past and what he's capable of doing again - is part of the attraction. Tim meant all the things he told Jason at the start, in the drawn-out space before that first kiss, but the most relevant part was when he called Jason a force of nature (a cyclone, a flash flood, an earthquake) - difficult to predict, capable of immense destruction, mercurial and harsh and often unforgiving, but honestly? Tim likes that about him, that he doesn't hold back, that he gives all. Danger followed his death in the line of duty as Robin, and danger followed his enraged return to life and Gotham and the boy he thought replaced him, but Tim could never replace Jason, not really. He could never fill his shoes, could never quite reach the bar Jason set. Tim's got talents of his own, sure, but if Tim's being honest, he's always thought of Jason as a little bit out of his league, a giant who's cast a shadow over him since the start.
Maybe that's why he never pursued Jason before now, why he hesitated to admit his feelings aloud, why he never dared to imagine what it might be like to have Jason here in his bed, to have Jason's hands and mouth on him, to wear bruises on his skin that Jason put there, not in anger but desire. If Tim had the space in his brain to form these kinds of thoughts, he'd probably laugh at himself for being such an idiot; he will, later, when this is over and Jason's gone and Tim's alone again, left to replay the events currently unfolding over and over in his mind, imagining how it will go next time.
Next time. They may be talking about it, but Tim's fully focused on this time - the hot, full feeling of Jason inside of him, the press of Jason's hands on him, the pinch of his teeth on his skin, the way Jason's voice slides into that rougher accent, the sound of his own voice shifting from surprised yelp to long, low, openmouthed moan, breathed out just underneath Jason's ear, the warmth of Jason's skin underneath his fingertips, curling around Jason's shoulders, holding on to him while Tim slowly unravels. He wants to be pulled apart and put back together, and Jason's doing such a damn good job of it right now.]
For you - I'll make an exception. I'll be ready, Jason. I'm always ready - for you.
[Words and sounds keep spilling over his tongue, a rush of syllables intercut with sharp, gasping breaths, keeping pace with the movement of his hips. Tim pushes himself up a little higher this time, uses the distance and momentum to pull himself back down into Jason with more force than before, mumbles God, Jason as his mouth searches to find Jason's in a fast, imprecise kiss and one hand slides up to tangle fingers in Jason's hair.]
no subject
[If Tim's honest with himself (and he isn't always), that danger that surrounds Jason - the knowledge of what he's done in the past and what he's capable of doing again - is part of the attraction. Tim meant all the things he told Jason at the start, in the drawn-out space before that first kiss, but the most relevant part was when he called Jason a force of nature (a cyclone, a flash flood, an earthquake) - difficult to predict, capable of immense destruction, mercurial and harsh and often unforgiving, but honestly? Tim likes that about him, that he doesn't hold back, that he gives all. Danger followed his death in the line of duty as Robin, and danger followed his enraged return to life and Gotham and the boy he thought replaced him, but Tim could never replace Jason, not really. He could never fill his shoes, could never quite reach the bar Jason set. Tim's got talents of his own, sure, but if Tim's being honest, he's always thought of Jason as a little bit out of his league, a giant who's cast a shadow over him since the start.
Maybe that's why he never pursued Jason before now, why he hesitated to admit his feelings aloud, why he never dared to imagine what it might be like to have Jason here in his bed, to have Jason's hands and mouth on him, to wear bruises on his skin that Jason put there, not in anger but desire. If Tim had the space in his brain to form these kinds of thoughts, he'd probably laugh at himself for being such an idiot; he will, later, when this is over and Jason's gone and Tim's alone again, left to replay the events currently unfolding over and over in his mind, imagining how it will go next time.
Next time. They may be talking about it, but Tim's fully focused on this time - the hot, full feeling of Jason inside of him, the press of Jason's hands on him, the pinch of his teeth on his skin, the way Jason's voice slides into that rougher accent, the sound of his own voice shifting from surprised yelp to long, low, openmouthed moan, breathed out just underneath Jason's ear, the warmth of Jason's skin underneath his fingertips, curling around Jason's shoulders, holding on to him while Tim slowly unravels. He wants to be pulled apart and put back together, and Jason's doing such a damn good job of it right now.]
For you - I'll make an exception. I'll be ready, Jason. I'm always ready - for you.
[Words and sounds keep spilling over his tongue, a rush of syllables intercut with sharp, gasping breaths, keeping pace with the movement of his hips. Tim pushes himself up a little higher this time, uses the distance and momentum to pull himself back down into Jason with more force than before, mumbles God, Jason as his mouth searches to find Jason's in a fast, imprecise kiss and one hand slides up to tangle fingers in Jason's hair.]
Go on. You're not gonna break me.