( jason wishes he wasn't wearing gloves, right now. wishes it were easy enough to slide them off so he could press his hands against tim's face, feel his flesh against his fingertips--run them up and down his neck, feel the way his chest rises and falls against him and catch his pulse against his neck. unfortunately, it's a little too late for that--isn't it. he may fuck this up so entirely bad that this could be the last time he's allowed to get this close to tim, and jason could have ruined his first and only chance at actually feeling him.
it's too late for regrets now though, isn't it.
tim talks, goes on and on and they're not quite the words he's looking for, there's no I want you in there, but it's implied, isn't it? he can hear it in tim's tone, in the words he says between words but there's still that part of him, deep down, that questions whether he's just imagining this shit. this is all fake. this is tim fucking with him, wanting to crack him open to see what it'd be like, what jason's like inside, just so he can fuck him up and ruin him again.
he doesn't deserve it, does he? tim's feelings. the way he's speaking as if jason was something special. as if he's amazing, wanted. it's all jason's ever wanted, isn't it? to have someone actually want him around--a bond he's been missing since the day he was born.
lips part on a shaky exhale, before he's taking a quick breath in, heart pounding in his chest loud enough that the sound echoes in his ears like a drum; it almost hurts. but he doesn't let that win. not now. not today. not when he's got tim this close, when tim is touching him, opening up to him in ways jason never thought would happen. )
Are you sure? ( his voice loses that gruff undertone--replaced with uncertainty. jason pulls back a bit, moves his forehead away from tim's own but keeps his mouth close, lips almost brushing against tim's as he speaks. if this is all just a game, if someone's just fucking with his head, then he guesses he'll find out soon. ) Last chance to take it back, Tim. To stop this. I'll--stop this now, if that's what you want. We can pretend this didn't happen.
( not that he wants to, but jesus. ) But after this, there's no going back, I--( tim isn't a child, god he knows that, but he's still so young. he could regret this in the morning. he could regret this four seconds after he finishes talking. he could decide that no, he was wrong, he didn't want this, and tell jason to fuck off--and jason's not sure if he could handle that. worse: tim decides he definitely doesn't regret any of this, and jason gets him hurt. )
[Tim feels Jason pull back, and his heart sinks. Maybe this is the rejection he feared after all - but no, it's just hesitation. Jason sounds unsure, asks Tim for a final confirmation. Tim blinks his eyes open again; Jason's still so close, and Tim can feel himself falling down into the blue of his eyes.]
Jason ... yes, I'm sure, of course I'm sure, I'm - I've never been this sure about anything else in my entire life. I want this. I want it to happen. I want you, OK? I - I've wanted you since before I even really knew what that meant.
[A secret he's kept locked away inside of himself for a long, long time. Tim's good at keeping secrets, always has been, even before he took up a mask and a mission. But now that he's unlocked and opened that gate, the words won't stop pouring out of his mouth, a flood of secrets, finally unleashed. He gulps in a quick breath and continues.]
Please, Jason. Don't stop. I don't want to stop, I don't want to pretend this didn't happen, I don't want to forget about this - I can't forget about this, don't you see? I can't forget about you.
[I'm obsessed with you, he means. Don't leave, he means, setting his free hand at Jason's hip, a weight to keep him tethered.]
( tim isn't drunk enough to just start saying shit. this isn't a drunken stupor. this is tim--opening up to him, being honest with him, telling him the words he'd wanted to hear but they're not just being said because he wanted them, they're being said because tim wanted to say them and really--that makes all the difference, doesn't it?
he should respond to them in turn, tell tim how he feels--but the words don't come easy. jason's already standing here, hands on tim's face, body lining up close to the other's own, pressed so close he feels the heat radiating off of him and--actions speak louder than words, don't they?
a pained sound passes his throat, quiet and almost completely unnoticeable, really--and jason's definitely covering that up by leaning forward those last few breaths that separate them, tilting tim's head up towards his and pressing his lips down against the other's own in a rough kiss. it's messy, rushed, and he's quickly moving to deepen it, tongue sliding against the seam of tim's mouth moments before his teeth drag across his lower lip.
their whole conversation, this whole thing had been slow-paced. slow touches, slow looks, slowly waiting for tim to break and say it, and jason's tired of going slow now. )
[Tim doesn't expect words from Jason - not about this. Sure, he's mouthy when he wants to be - they both are, that's part of what you're trained for as a Robin, to chatter and distract - but talking about feelings? Well, they both learned about that from Bruce, too - how not to talk about feelings, how to shove them into a dark corner and try to forget they exist. Tim's not drunk, not even close, but maybe the small amount of alcohol he's had to drink is what finally helped loosen his tongue enough to tell Jason the hidden truths he's been holding onto for years.
He doesn't need Jason's words, not when he's got Jason's mouth on his, pushing hard and fast for more, showing Tim what Jason can't say - that he's wanted, too, that this isn't some one-sided infatuation destined to go nowhere, that Tim isn't just some dumb kid with an awkward crush on his predecessor. Tim's jaw relaxes; his mouth opens to let Jason in further still. A quiet sound muffles into Jason's mouth, wordless but meaning yes and finally and more all the same. Fingers slip through Jason's belt loop, into the hair at the back of his head. Tim pulls Jason in as close to him as he can, backing up against the table behind him, no care given to whether the force rattles the glasses or knocks over the bottle of rum. Jason is the only thing Tim cares about at the moment, the taste and the warmth and the weight of him, the old bar smell that surrounds him, the pinch of his teeth on his lip, everything. Tim would gladly drown himself in Jason if he could. He's been waiting so long.]
( jason is an absolutely excellent bullshitter. he can run his mouth for forever when he needs to, all snide comments and snark--but that is the robin training talking. hell, even before he was robin, he knew how to use his mouth to get out of shit. crime alley isn't well known for it's hospitality towards--anyone, actually.
but talking about feelings is absolutely fucking impossible. even thinking about forming coherent sentences when he's got tim pressed up against him, reacting to him, pulling him in closer is impossible. tim presses back against the table, opens up for him so nicely, and jason takes it as an invitation; his arms move down tim's neck, over his shoulders, down his back, grabbing onto his ass and using that as leverage to pull him up, lifting him until he's high enough to settle his weight down against the table. a hand moves out for the liquor bottle, shoving it back and--hopefully--far enough away that their moving isn't going to knock it over.
not that he gives a shit about tim's floor, and he's sure tim doesn't give a shit either, but he also doesn't want to drown tim in rum. jason, at the very least, has the forethought still to know that's a shitty idea all around.
his hands are quick to move back up, palms pressing up tim's sides, tracing over his ribcage, feeling out the shape of his shoulders before grabbing back onto his face and tilting his head back even further as jason leans over him, giving a soft, pleased sound as he drags his tongue across the roof of tim's mouth, taking the time to just taste him. )
[Kissing Jason is different than kissing a girl. Girls are softness and curves, and Jason, he's all hard lines, a bulldozer, a freight train going full steam ahead. He's an unstoppable force, and Tim doesn't want to stop him anyway, didn't he say so before? Don't stop. I don't want to stop.
Words aren't necessary to say this again; Tim's body says everything his mouth is too occupied to speak. The tension he's been holding in his shoulders since Jason arrived is gone, melted out of his muscles. He's pliant in Jason's hands as he's set up on top of the table, legs shifted to wrap around the backs of Jason's, knees pressed into his hips, another inward pull. He can feel his skin sparking underneath his clothes where Jason touches him, and it's not enough. Jason's got those damn gloves on still, a layer of separation between him and the rest of the world, and Tim wants them off, wants no more distance between them. He doesn't skip a beat, doesn't stop kissing Jason, doesn't stop opening his mouth to encourage him in, just reaches up to Jason's wrist and starts peeling fabric back from skin.]
( it's just too bad they still have all these layers of clothes. tim's hands move over his, tug at his gloves, starts removing the fabric from his hands and jason takes that as his cue to pull back even when tim's still kissing him back just as hard.
tim's got his legs wrapped around jason's own, heels pressing into him and jason doesn't have anywhere to go but forward--so he moves in. presses his hips into tim's crotch, grinds slow against him to show tim that even just from this, he's already half-hard. yes, jason has had--enough experience, knows what he's doing, but everything's fucking different with tim, isn't it. tim isn't soft and all curves, tim isn't a girl, and tim, just being tim, is a whole different ballgame for him.
jason shifts, moves to press his face into the crook of tim's neck, brushes tongue and teeth where neck meets shoulder before pausing to take a few deep, steadying breaths. )
Jesus. ( maybe breathing wasn't helping. another deep breath--not looking directly at tim definitely helps with the whole. talking part. once tim has one of his hands free, jason slides it up under his thigh, fingers gripping onto flesh hard enough to bruise for just a moment, before he's reining himself back in and groping at tim's flesh instead. ) I want you, Tim. ( his voice is gruff, darker, lower than usual, full of promise: ) What do you want from me?
[What Tim wants, what he's always wanted from Jason, is everything; that's the word left on his tongue when Jason pulls back, making space for both of them to breathe. He wants Jason's attention, and he's got it. He wants Jason's hands holding him, his voice in his ear, his mouth against his skin, and he's got all of that now, too. He wants Jason to want him, and Jason's just given him that as well, hasn't he, with words and the way he's pressed in close.]
I want ...
[He pauses, chest rising and falling with deep, quick breaths. Specifics, that's what Jason's asking, isn't it? Tim's thought about this, imagined what might happen if by some miracle they managed to make it this far, but only vaguely, never allowing his mind to wander too far into the details. Now that they are here, tangled up in each other, he thinks about Jason's fingers twisting hard in his hair, about bruises and bite marks left behind on his skin, about having all of Jason's intensity focused on him, finally, and it makes Tim shiver.
But he doesn't know what Jason wants; he hinted at biting earlier, but that was before things escalated. Tim knows Jason's violence, but in a different context. Maybe this is different.]
I want - I want you, Jason, I -
[Tim peels the second glove off his other hand, drops it on the table with as little care as the first. Task accomplished, his hands are left restless, tracing along Jason's collar, along the side of his face, slipping down to his shoulders, under the jacket, nudging it backwards.]
I just want you to touch me, Jason, I don't care, what - what do you want from me?
( jacket off. right. he's got the hint. jason shifts back another inch, uses the space given to pull his jacket off of his arms and shove it onto the table to the side of tim. the belt goes next, fingers reaching between them to undo the buckle because tim's legs around his hips and his gun holders don't make for a very comfortable. anything. and the soft warmth of tim is a lot more important to him right now than cold metal.
it's hard to get them off without moving tim, but he's determined, and jason can do a lot with determination. the belt's unhooked, one hand gripping onto both ends of it to throw that down on the table, too, beside tim. it leaves jason almost entirely unarmed--but why the fuck would he give a shit about any of that when he still has tim.
jason's heartbeat pounds in his ears, bare hands sliding back up tim's thighs, over his hips, waist, and up under his shirt, fingertips brushing against bare skin, digging into flesh as if somehow, that's going to be what grounds him here. tim's skin against his own. he's glad he did take the time to--remove his shit, to calm down a little, brace himself for this because fuck, this is tim.
and the last thing he wants to do is rush through all of this. they're here, touching and kissing, he may as well make it count, right? jason leans in, presses a rough kiss to tim's mouth, teeths and sucks at his lower lip for a moment before he's releasing it to murmur against his lips: )
I want to take you to your room, throw you down onto the mattress, and mark you. ( his mouth moves south, a little. bites along tim's jawline hard enough to leave the imprint of teeth behind. ) I want to hear you moan for me. ( even further down, mouth now latching right over his adam's apple, taking a moment to suck at the flesh there, tongue pressing hard against it. ) I want you to tell me just how you imagined this going, before.
( there's another brief pause, jason sliding down just a bit more to mouth over tim's collar. ) You did think about this, didn't you?
[Tim's just in street clothes, has less to navigate than Jason, but he takes the opportunity to get his own belt undone while Jason works at shedding pieces of what keeps distance between him and the rest of the world. Tim rolls his head back to make room for Jason once he returns, breathing out a quiet note of surprise when teeth connect, murmuring a soft, wordless sound of wanting when his mouth makes a more gentle contact. One hand settles at Jason's collar and the other at the top of his shoulder; fingers twist into fabric to anchor Tim in place among the swelling tide of desire.]
You think I - ha, you think I believed, even for a second, that you'd be here with me? I thought about it, sure, wished for it, but do you think I let myself imagine what your hands would feel like sliding under my clothes, what your mouth would feel like at my neck? I didn't, Jason, I didn't - I didn't think you'd ever want me, didn't think you'd let me -
[He leans in, takes Jason's mouth in another kiss, fast and deep, as he fumbles blindly at the front of Jason's pants, working the button open in the small amount of space that's between them, fingers sliding in between fabric and skin. He breaks the kiss to gasp for air, turn his mouth to Jason's ear.]
Do it, Jason. Mark me. Give me bruises that I'll be able to see for weeks. Fuck me, make me forget my own name because all I can remember is yours. Give me everything you've got. I want you to.
[Teeth close around Jason's earlobe - not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to hint at something more. A test of boundaries, maybe.]
( fuck. tim's words hit him like a bag of fucking bricks; he moves against jason, twists into his touch, body pliant under his and damn. he'd expected--to be at least a little overwhelmed, tim was always keeping him on his toes, always has been, the snarky little shit--but not like this. his voice vibrates right next to his ear and it has jason shuddering at the sensation, body quickly moving to shove right back up against tim's own, feeling tim's heat against his own and he's glad he checked with tim before, made sure he was absolutely fine with this, because there's definitely no off switch now.
teeth bite into his ear and jason's immediately moving his hands to grip hard onto tim's thighs, lifting him up a little more and holding him tight against his chest, arms moving back around to get those ankles around his waist rather than his legs, because like hell is he risking tripping and falling now.
jason twists his head down, bites hard at the skin right where tims jawline meets his ear. )
Yeah, I'll give it all to you. ( it's a promise; tim asked, and jason'll provide it. he makes quickwork of the space from the table to tim's room, kicks open the door roughly with a boot because he doesn't have time for door knobs. it's good he already knows the layout, here.
walking into a closet would have been really fucking awkward, wouldn't it. it's one, two, three long steps to tim's bed and jason lets himself fall forward, presses a palm into the mattress to keep most his weight off of tim--and leans down, drags his mouth across the other's own, kisses him hot and heavy as his free hand slides up between them, pushes at the hem of tim's shirt to drag it up. )
I'll fuck you until you scream--leave bruises where only I'll be able to find them. ( he stops, pauses for a moment, takes a breath and twists his lips up into a small smirk. ) And everywhere else.
[Jason shifts him up, pulls him in closer, and Tim does what he can to help, holding on to Jason's shoulders to pull himself up and wrap around Jason, get them moving in the direction of the bedroom. He's tired of waiting, tired of fighting - they're finally working together, toward the same end, and isn't that exactly how it should be?
The bite at his neck pulls a surprised yelp out of the back of his throat, quickly followed by a laugh. He should've expected that, should've expected Jason's unpredictability. He asked for this, and Jason's delivering, and Tim's still laughing, dizzy, by the time his back meets the mattress, still grinning as he tips his head back to deepen Jason's kiss.]
Yeah? I'm hearing an awful lot of talk, Jason.
[Tim returns Jason's smirk with one of his own, a playful challenge, daring him onward. He props himself up on his elbows, rising up to meet Jason with a rushed kiss; when it ends, he breathes out a quiet sigh, half satisfied, half anticipatory.]
Someone once told me never to underestimate the importance of communication. ( that? that's sarcasm. but there's a smile on his lips as he says it, leaning down to press one last, firm kiss against tim's mouth. as much as he likes kissing him, there's so much more skin to touch, taste.
and since they're already here, jason's going to make sure he gets to touch all of it. tim props himself up on his elbows, and that's fine. that's less room that jason has to lean down, mouthing over tim's skin over the shirt that he still hasn't quite got up. he presses teeth in, digs them against the other's collarbone through his shirt as he crooks a brow up towards tim--and shifts his mouth lower. pauses just over a nipple, tongue moving to drag across it through the fabric before he's biting down, hard. )
You're still way too dressed, Timmy. How am I supposed to give you everything if you've got all these layers on? ( there's still that playful lilt to his tone, mouth shifting lower once more as his fingers drag that shit up further, over his chest to bunch it up just below his arms. ) Strip. ( and in the meantime, jason's going to take his time, biting and sucking along tim's ribcage, making sure he's digging teeth in hard enough to leave marks even if he's avoiding breaking skin. )
[Tim almost makes some smartass comment about using your adult words, but it dies on his tongue when Jason bites his nipple, lost to the shocked shout that scrapes out of his throat and the muttered curse that quickly follows. Give him a second to catch his breath, though, and he's back to mouthing off again.]
Bossy.
[It's not a true complaint; he complies, tugging the shirt up over his head and dropping it - who fucking cares, Tim has more important things to think about than where his discarded clothes end up landing. He drops flat on his back again, slips a shoe off his foot using the edge of the mattress, wraps his leg around the back of Jason's leg to keep him here, like Tim's afraid he'll change his mind abruptly about all of this and leave. Every pinch of Jason's teeth down his torso makes Tim gasp, pushing a quiet ah! out of his mouth, curling his fingers into the fabric over Jason's shoulders.]
What - what about you? Are your clothes all - mm, are they superglued on? Or are you gonna take this - take this off?
Edited (how do i words, i'm too tired for this) 2017-10-13 03:42 (UTC)
( that's one shoe off--and one remaining. with tim's shirt off, jason has the whole expanse of tim's chest to work with, so he moves his mouth back up, stopping towards the center of his chest with a low hum while his hands slide to tim's waist, fingers pulling the button of his pants loose and the zipper down. he's quick to slide them down his hips but off is a little harder with tim wrapped around him like this, with his body over the other's own--so tim's just going to have to figure out how to get them off of his knees himself. )
Mine's a lot harder to get off.( and he's impatient for more of tim to touch. a full body suit, buckles around his thighs, pants on over the suit--the entire fucking process it is to get it on takes even more time to get it back off.
jason shifts regardless, hands moving even further down to push tim's legs off of him so he can shove off his already open pants, pushing those down to his knees, too, before lifting one knee off the bed at a time to push them down to his boots and letting them fall to the floor along with the boots.
easy part over, jason moves back over tim and takes the time to press another kiss to his lips, hands sliding back up to thread fingers through his hair and tug at it, gripping strands tight as he bites into his mouth.
if he ever gets a second chance at this, he's making sure not to wear stupid shit next time. )
[Luckily for both of them, Tim's good with strategy. He sees his opening while Jason's undressing himself, kicks the other shoe off, slips the rest of the way out of his remaining clothes.]
Is that - ha, should I be taking that as a "challenge accepted" situation?
[He wants Jason without armor, without distance, wants Jason to let him in, the same way he's letting Jason in, finally. For Tim, this isn't just about sex, isn't just about making a physical connection - won't be just a casual one-night stand, if he has any say in the matter. If Jason allows it, if he lets Tim in past his walls, underneath his armor, Tim plans to stay, intends to learn Jason inside and out.
And you know Tim - he's fucking persistent when he wants to be. He'll find a way to get Jason out of that suit if he's given half a chance. Just - maybe not right at this particular moment, while Jason's on top of him, locked on his mouth with fingers twisting hard in his hair. Tim's too busy quietly moaning into Jason's mouth, too busy settling his hands at Jason's hips to pull him closer.]
( it isn't just about a physical connection--definitely not for jason. it's about connecting. sex is just part of it. the way tim responds to him speaks louder than any words ever could; he moves with him, moans with him, and hell if that isn't absolutely the best part of all of this. sex is good, touching is good, but it hardly means anything without the feeling behind it.
jason mirrors that moan with one of his own, twists the fingers of one hand through tim's hair, holds onto him tight as he lets the other hand slip down, sliding across his chest, ribcage, stomach, hips--and into the waistband of his underclothes, fingers sliding down to wrap around his cock and give him a few, firm strokes.
he uses the distraction to pull his lips back once more--because as much as he loves kissing tim--running his mouth isn't something he can do when he's busy shoving his tongue down tim's throat. ) Try ( his mouth moves down again, teeth pulling tim's lower lip into his mouth to suck on it, hard, before letting it slip loose from his teeth. ) me ( his grip on tim's cock tightens for just a moment, hand moving up to brush his thumb over the tip--mouth moving down once more to lick across his upper lip. ) Timmy.
( if he can stop and think long enough for that. jason's fine continuing just like this. )
[There's not much that's capable of turning Tim's brain off, but Jason taking him in hand like this is definitely on the top of that very short list. His mind turns to white static; his hips tilt up toward Jason's hand; the moan hovering in his throat deepens, hardens, shifts to something more insistent. Jason's taunting him, and Tim can't even care - not when he's being touched, kissed, bitten like this.
Well - not much.]
Asshole, [he hisses out with a heavy exhale, but there's no real anger. Tim sounds more awed than anything, maybe a little irritated that Jason's managed to get the better of him with such a damn good distraction, still a little playful. He dips his head down, gets his teeth around the end of Jason's chin, bites hard and quick, then moves back in for his mouth again. One hand grips at Jason's ass, the other slides up his back, around his neck, twists into his hair. See how he likes it, but definitely don't stop.]
( that's definitely not anger. tim's hips tilt into his grip, he moans, and jason really can't help the shit eating grin that spreads across his lips. it's exhilarating. touching tim is one thing--getting him to react like this is an entirely different matter, and boy is he loving every moment of it.
he knows that skin-on-skin contact, like this--doesn't stay that nice for long, though. his fingers keep their grip on tim, pressing his thumb into the slit at the tip of his erection but not taking the time to stroke him, too. tim's teeth dig into his chin, and jason gives a low, almost growled sound in return, mouth biting back into the other's own when he leans in for another kiss. the fingers in his hair, digging into his ass--those are real nice.
jason's really hoping tim doesn't realize the power he has over him, too. dicking with tim like this is great, but this could be going a whole other route of embarrassing if tim realizes just how much pull he has over jason. )
Yeah, but you like my ass. ( his hips roll back against tim's hand at his ass, as if punctuating that statement. ) You've got lube here, don't you? Lotion? I wouldn't want to chafe your dick.
[Tim hasn't realized he's got anything on Jason. Sure, Tim's pretty good at reading people, but Jason's easy to read on some things and much more difficult to read on others, and this whole situation, what's unfolding between them, falls firmly into the latter category. Jason's indicated wanting Tim, but not the motives behind that want. Maybe the attraction is simply Tim wanting him. Maybe for Jason it's just about sex, an enjoyable act and a willing partner. Maybe it's about nothing more than control, about having Tim - quite literally - under his thumb, seeing what kinds of reactions he can get. Tim doesn't know, but whatever the case, he doesn't really care; his senses are too full of Jason to divert much thought to reading him, and he's too caught up in the moment to question why it's happening.]
What a gentleman. Drawer - here.
[Reluctantly, he slips his fingers out of Jason's hair and reaches to the nightstand beside the bed, feeling blindly for the knob to tug the drawer open. He's a little too forceful with it; the drawer pulls out entirely and crashes to the floor, scattering its contents - condoms and lube, of course he has them, he's always prepared.]
( tim's hands reach for the drawer and jason lets up a bit, gives him space to grab shit. except he fucking fails to slide the drawer open, and instead everything goes toppling onto the floor, a little too far out of his reach, and far out of tim's.
he's quiet, for a moment. head tilted to the side to look towards the mess, before his lips spread into a grin and he laughs. the hand that had been in tim's hair moves to press it's palm against the mattress, holding his weight up to keep from putting too much of it on tim. ) I think you underestimated your strength a little, Timmy.
( that playful lilt is back in his tone; jason shifts his hips forward, grinds soft into tim--a distraction of sorts, while the fingers that had wrapped around his length pull back. tim made what he wanted pretty clear, and sadly, one of them is going to need to get close enough to the shit he just knocked on the floor if they want to continue. )
[How fucking embarrassing, to get so tripped up in your thirst you end up scattering an entire drawer's contents like this, like an excited puppy that can't stop jumping and knocking things over. It's a good thing Jason's laughing - with Tim, that's what it feels like, because Tim's laughing too, quietly, behind the hand clapped over his face, not at him - because otherwise, Tim would feel like an even bigger fool than he already does.]
What, like you've never - ?
[He doesn't finish that comment, because Jason pushes his hips forward, and there's warmth spidering up his stomach, and Tim has to take a second to catch his breath all over again.
Then Jason's telling him to move. Sure, he can do that, cooperate. Mumbles something like OK as he complies, shifts his legs out of the way, but since he's moving anyway and Jason's a little distracted, Tim also takes the opportunity to sit up and get his teeth around Jason's ear again. He's helping, honestly.]
( this is not helping, tim. the teeth earn tim a soft moan--and while he had full intentions of getting up, sliding off the bed and picking through the mess they've made on the floor--now tim's got his full attention. again. jason's hand moves to grab onto one of tim's thighs, holding onto it and pushing his leg up as he moves forward, into him, again--presses his hips against the other's own and grinds down against them. )
I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you couldn't even remember your own name. ( he lowers his voice, murmuring softly as he grinds into tim again, hisses between his teeth at just how good it feels, pressed up against tim like this. he's hard, he wants to fuck tim, but hell--being with him like this is honestly enough for him. this feels good enough, just like this. jason really wouldn't mind rutting against him until tim got off--but tim wanted everything, didn't he?
even with tim's teeth digging into his ear, jason's leaning down, pulling against that hold on his skin to dig his own teeth right into the juncture of tim's neck, hard. )
[The moan Tim makes into Jason's ear isn't at all subtle, and neither is the sharp cry that comes over the bite to his neck. He laughs though, shivering, sliding his hands over Jason's shoulders.]
I do - I do - [he laughs again, quick and breathless] - can you really blame me if - if I can't keep my hands off you?
[Now that he's got Jason this close, finally, Tim's reluctant to let go of him, even for a moment; if he does, there's a fear, maybe partly irrational, that Jason will disappear. Change his mind, decide to leave after all. Maybe it's not so irrational, knowing Jason. But Tim did the extremely dumb thing of knocking everything to the floor, so letting Jason go, just for a moment, is a logistic necessity. He relaxes back into the mattress, slides his hands off Jason, yields.]
( irrational is the way the moment jason detangles himself from tim, he does start--doubting himself. doubting this. he knows tim wants it, has been around tim long enough to have realized that this is something that he wants, but--is he absolutely sure he wants it? tim knows better than most all the baggage jason carries around with him, the years of fuckups, the stupid way he'd walked right into the trap that had gotten him killed.
the way he had come back, angry and determined to take it out on bruce. how livid he was over being replaced. it's been. . a while, a very long time, and jason has forgiven bruce, they're not on the worst terms, anymore--and he's definitely not on bad terms with tim.
jason shakes it off, though.
let's it go, for once. doesn't let it get to him, he slides off the edge of the bed and gets to his feet, uses the opportunity to take his pants off and grip onto the edge of the kevlar shirt, taking a bit of time to yank that off, too. after it's off, he bends down, picks up the lube and a few condoms. leaves the rest scattered, because he sure as hell isn't taking the time to clean up tim's messes.
not when there's better things they can be doing. jason goes back over to the bed, climbs his way back over tim and leaves the shit he'd picked up by tim's head as he leans back in to kiss him hard once more. )
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it's too late for regrets now though, isn't it.
tim talks, goes on and on and they're not quite the words he's looking for, there's no I want you in there, but it's implied, isn't it? he can hear it in tim's tone, in the words he says between words but there's still that part of him, deep down, that questions whether he's just imagining this shit. this is all fake. this is tim fucking with him, wanting to crack him open to see what it'd be like, what jason's like inside, just so he can fuck him up and ruin him again.
he doesn't deserve it, does he? tim's feelings. the way he's speaking as if jason was something special. as if he's amazing, wanted. it's all jason's ever wanted, isn't it? to have someone actually want him around--a bond he's been missing since the day he was born.
lips part on a shaky exhale, before he's taking a quick breath in, heart pounding in his chest loud enough that the sound echoes in his ears like a drum; it almost hurts. but he doesn't let that win. not now. not today. not when he's got tim this close, when tim is touching him, opening up to him in ways jason never thought would happen. )
Are you sure? ( his voice loses that gruff undertone--replaced with uncertainty. jason pulls back a bit, moves his forehead away from tim's own but keeps his mouth close, lips almost brushing against tim's as he speaks. if this is all just a game, if someone's just fucking with his head, then he guesses he'll find out soon. ) Last chance to take it back, Tim. To stop this. I'll--stop this now, if that's what you want. We can pretend this didn't happen.
( not that he wants to, but jesus. ) But after this, there's no going back, I--( tim isn't a child, god he knows that, but he's still so young. he could regret this in the morning. he could regret this four seconds after he finishes talking. he could decide that no, he was wrong, he didn't want this, and tell jason to fuck off--and jason's not sure if he could handle that. worse: tim decides he definitely doesn't regret any of this, and jason gets him hurt. )
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Jason ... yes, I'm sure, of course I'm sure, I'm - I've never been this sure about anything else in my entire life. I want this. I want it to happen. I want you, OK? I - I've wanted you since before I even really knew what that meant.
[A secret he's kept locked away inside of himself for a long, long time. Tim's good at keeping secrets, always has been, even before he took up a mask and a mission. But now that he's unlocked and opened that gate, the words won't stop pouring out of his mouth, a flood of secrets, finally unleashed. He gulps in a quick breath and continues.]
Please, Jason. Don't stop. I don't want to stop, I don't want to pretend this didn't happen, I don't want to forget about this - I can't forget about this, don't you see? I can't forget about you.
[I'm obsessed with you, he means. Don't leave, he means, setting his free hand at Jason's hip, a weight to keep him tethered.]
Please, Jason. Please. Kiss me.
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he should respond to them in turn, tell tim how he feels--but the words don't come easy. jason's already standing here, hands on tim's face, body lining up close to the other's own, pressed so close he feels the heat radiating off of him and--actions speak louder than words, don't they?
a pained sound passes his throat, quiet and almost completely unnoticeable, really--and jason's definitely covering that up by leaning forward those last few breaths that separate them, tilting tim's head up towards his and pressing his lips down against the other's own in a rough kiss. it's messy, rushed, and he's quickly moving to deepen it, tongue sliding against the seam of tim's mouth moments before his teeth drag across his lower lip.
their whole conversation, this whole thing had been slow-paced. slow touches, slow looks, slowly waiting for tim to break and say it, and jason's tired of going slow now. )
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He doesn't need Jason's words, not when he's got Jason's mouth on his, pushing hard and fast for more, showing Tim what Jason can't say - that he's wanted, too, that this isn't some one-sided infatuation destined to go nowhere, that Tim isn't just some dumb kid with an awkward crush on his predecessor. Tim's jaw relaxes; his mouth opens to let Jason in further still. A quiet sound muffles into Jason's mouth, wordless but meaning yes and finally and more all the same. Fingers slip through Jason's belt loop, into the hair at the back of his head. Tim pulls Jason in as close to him as he can, backing up against the table behind him, no care given to whether the force rattles the glasses or knocks over the bottle of rum. Jason is the only thing Tim cares about at the moment, the taste and the warmth and the weight of him, the old bar smell that surrounds him, the pinch of his teeth on his lip, everything. Tim would gladly drown himself in Jason if he could. He's been waiting so long.]
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but talking about feelings is absolutely fucking impossible. even thinking about forming coherent sentences when he's got tim pressed up against him, reacting to him, pulling him in closer is impossible. tim presses back against the table, opens up for him so nicely, and jason takes it as an invitation; his arms move down tim's neck, over his shoulders, down his back, grabbing onto his ass and using that as leverage to pull him up, lifting him until he's high enough to settle his weight down against the table. a hand moves out for the liquor bottle, shoving it back and--hopefully--far enough away that their moving isn't going to knock it over.
not that he gives a shit about tim's floor, and he's sure tim doesn't give a shit either, but he also doesn't want to drown tim in rum. jason, at the very least, has the forethought still to know that's a shitty idea all around.
his hands are quick to move back up, palms pressing up tim's sides, tracing over his ribcage, feeling out the shape of his shoulders before grabbing back onto his face and tilting his head back even further as jason leans over him, giving a soft, pleased sound as he drags his tongue across the roof of tim's mouth, taking the time to just taste him. )
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Words aren't necessary to say this again; Tim's body says everything his mouth is too occupied to speak. The tension he's been holding in his shoulders since Jason arrived is gone, melted out of his muscles. He's pliant in Jason's hands as he's set up on top of the table, legs shifted to wrap around the backs of Jason's, knees pressed into his hips, another inward pull. He can feel his skin sparking underneath his clothes where Jason touches him, and it's not enough. Jason's got those damn gloves on still, a layer of separation between him and the rest of the world, and Tim wants them off, wants no more distance between them. He doesn't skip a beat, doesn't stop kissing Jason, doesn't stop opening his mouth to encourage him in, just reaches up to Jason's wrist and starts peeling fabric back from skin.]
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tim's got his legs wrapped around jason's own, heels pressing into him and jason doesn't have anywhere to go but forward--so he moves in. presses his hips into tim's crotch, grinds slow against him to show tim that even just from this, he's already half-hard. yes, jason has had--enough experience, knows what he's doing, but everything's fucking different with tim, isn't it. tim isn't soft and all curves, tim isn't a girl, and tim, just being tim, is a whole different ballgame for him.
jason shifts, moves to press his face into the crook of tim's neck, brushes tongue and teeth where neck meets shoulder before pausing to take a few deep, steadying breaths. )
Jesus. ( maybe breathing wasn't helping. another deep breath--not looking directly at tim definitely helps with the whole. talking part. once tim has one of his hands free, jason slides it up under his thigh, fingers gripping onto flesh hard enough to bruise for just a moment, before he's reining himself back in and groping at tim's flesh instead. ) I want you, Tim. ( his voice is gruff, darker, lower than usual, full of promise: ) What do you want from me?
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I want ...
[He pauses, chest rising and falling with deep, quick breaths. Specifics, that's what Jason's asking, isn't it? Tim's thought about this, imagined what might happen if by some miracle they managed to make it this far, but only vaguely, never allowing his mind to wander too far into the details. Now that they are here, tangled up in each other, he thinks about Jason's fingers twisting hard in his hair, about bruises and bite marks left behind on his skin, about having all of Jason's intensity focused on him, finally, and it makes Tim shiver.
But he doesn't know what Jason wants; he hinted at biting earlier, but that was before things escalated. Tim knows Jason's violence, but in a different context. Maybe this is different.]
I want - I want you, Jason, I -
[Tim peels the second glove off his other hand, drops it on the table with as little care as the first. Task accomplished, his hands are left restless, tracing along Jason's collar, along the side of his face, slipping down to his shoulders, under the jacket, nudging it backwards.]
I just want you to touch me, Jason, I don't care, what - what do you want from me?
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it's hard to get them off without moving tim, but he's determined, and jason can do a lot with determination. the belt's unhooked, one hand gripping onto both ends of it to throw that down on the table, too, beside tim. it leaves jason almost entirely unarmed--but why the fuck would he give a shit about any of that when he still has tim.
jason's heartbeat pounds in his ears, bare hands sliding back up tim's thighs, over his hips, waist, and up under his shirt, fingertips brushing against bare skin, digging into flesh as if somehow, that's going to be what grounds him here. tim's skin against his own. he's glad he did take the time to--remove his shit, to calm down a little, brace himself for this because fuck, this is tim.
and the last thing he wants to do is rush through all of this. they're here, touching and kissing, he may as well make it count, right? jason leans in, presses a rough kiss to tim's mouth, teeths and sucks at his lower lip for a moment before he's releasing it to murmur against his lips: )
I want to take you to your room, throw you down onto the mattress, and mark you. ( his mouth moves south, a little. bites along tim's jawline hard enough to leave the imprint of teeth behind. ) I want to hear you moan for me. ( even further down, mouth now latching right over his adam's apple, taking a moment to suck at the flesh there, tongue pressing hard against it. ) I want you to tell me just how you imagined this going, before.
( there's another brief pause, jason sliding down just a bit more to mouth over tim's collar. ) You did think about this, didn't you?
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You think I - ha, you think I believed, even for a second, that you'd be here with me? I thought about it, sure, wished for it, but do you think I let myself imagine what your hands would feel like sliding under my clothes, what your mouth would feel like at my neck? I didn't, Jason, I didn't - I didn't think you'd ever want me, didn't think you'd let me -
[He leans in, takes Jason's mouth in another kiss, fast and deep, as he fumbles blindly at the front of Jason's pants, working the button open in the small amount of space that's between them, fingers sliding in between fabric and skin. He breaks the kiss to gasp for air, turn his mouth to Jason's ear.]
Do it, Jason. Mark me. Give me bruises that I'll be able to see for weeks. Fuck me, make me forget my own name because all I can remember is yours. Give me everything you've got. I want you to.
[Teeth close around Jason's earlobe - not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to hint at something more. A test of boundaries, maybe.]
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teeth bite into his ear and jason's immediately moving his hands to grip hard onto tim's thighs, lifting him up a little more and holding him tight against his chest, arms moving back around to get those ankles around his waist rather than his legs, because like hell is he risking tripping and falling now.
jason twists his head down, bites hard at the skin right where tims jawline meets his ear. )
Yeah, I'll give it all to you. ( it's a promise; tim asked, and jason'll provide it. he makes quickwork of the space from the table to tim's room, kicks open the door roughly with a boot because he doesn't have time for door knobs. it's good he already knows the layout, here.
walking into a closet would have been really fucking awkward, wouldn't it. it's one, two, three long steps to tim's bed and jason lets himself fall forward, presses a palm into the mattress to keep most his weight off of tim--and leans down, drags his mouth across the other's own, kisses him hot and heavy as his free hand slides up between them, pushes at the hem of tim's shirt to drag it up. )
I'll fuck you until you scream--leave bruises where only I'll be able to find them. ( he stops, pauses for a moment, takes a breath and twists his lips up into a small smirk. ) And everywhere else.
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The bite at his neck pulls a surprised yelp out of the back of his throat, quickly followed by a laugh. He should've expected that, should've expected Jason's unpredictability. He asked for this, and Jason's delivering, and Tim's still laughing, dizzy, by the time his back meets the mattress, still grinning as he tips his head back to deepen Jason's kiss.]
Yeah? I'm hearing an awful lot of talk, Jason.
[Tim returns Jason's smirk with one of his own, a playful challenge, daring him onward. He props himself up on his elbows, rising up to meet Jason with a rushed kiss; when it ends, he breathes out a quiet sigh, half satisfied, half anticipatory.]
What're you waiting for?
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and since they're already here, jason's going to make sure he gets to touch all of it. tim props himself up on his elbows, and that's fine. that's less room that jason has to lean down, mouthing over tim's skin over the shirt that he still hasn't quite got up. he presses teeth in, digs them against the other's collarbone through his shirt as he crooks a brow up towards tim--and shifts his mouth lower. pauses just over a nipple, tongue moving to drag across it through the fabric before he's biting down, hard. )
You're still way too dressed, Timmy. How am I supposed to give you everything if you've got all these layers on? ( there's still that playful lilt to his tone, mouth shifting lower once more as his fingers drag that shit up further, over his chest to bunch it up just below his arms. ) Strip. ( and in the meantime, jason's going to take his time, biting and sucking along tim's ribcage, making sure he's digging teeth in hard enough to leave marks even if he's avoiding breaking skin. )
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Bossy.
[It's not a true complaint; he complies, tugging the shirt up over his head and dropping it - who fucking cares, Tim has more important things to think about than where his discarded clothes end up landing. He drops flat on his back again, slips a shoe off his foot using the edge of the mattress, wraps his leg around the back of Jason's leg to keep him here, like Tim's afraid he'll change his mind abruptly about all of this and leave. Every pinch of Jason's teeth down his torso makes Tim gasp, pushing a quiet ah! out of his mouth, curling his fingers into the fabric over Jason's shoulders.]
What - what about you? Are your clothes all - mm, are they superglued on? Or are you gonna take this - take this off?
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Mine's a lot harder to get off.( and he's impatient for more of tim to touch. a full body suit, buckles around his thighs, pants on over the suit--the entire fucking process it is to get it on takes even more time to get it back off.
jason shifts regardless, hands moving even further down to push tim's legs off of him so he can shove off his already open pants, pushing those down to his knees, too, before lifting one knee off the bed at a time to push them down to his boots and letting them fall to the floor along with the boots.
easy part over, jason moves back over tim and takes the time to press another kiss to his lips, hands sliding back up to thread fingers through his hair and tug at it, gripping strands tight as he bites into his mouth.
if he ever gets a second chance at this, he's making sure not to wear stupid shit next time. )
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Is that - ha, should I be taking that as a "challenge accepted" situation?
[He wants Jason without armor, without distance, wants Jason to let him in, the same way he's letting Jason in, finally. For Tim, this isn't just about sex, isn't just about making a physical connection - won't be just a casual one-night stand, if he has any say in the matter. If Jason allows it, if he lets Tim in past his walls, underneath his armor, Tim plans to stay, intends to learn Jason inside and out.
And you know Tim - he's fucking persistent when he wants to be. He'll find a way to get Jason out of that suit if he's given half a chance. Just - maybe not right at this particular moment, while Jason's on top of him, locked on his mouth with fingers twisting hard in his hair. Tim's too busy quietly moaning into Jason's mouth, too busy settling his hands at Jason's hips to pull him closer.]
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jason mirrors that moan with one of his own, twists the fingers of one hand through tim's hair, holds onto him tight as he lets the other hand slip down, sliding across his chest, ribcage, stomach, hips--and into the waistband of his underclothes, fingers sliding down to wrap around his cock and give him a few, firm strokes.
he uses the distraction to pull his lips back once more--because as much as he loves kissing tim--running his mouth isn't something he can do when he's busy shoving his tongue down tim's throat. ) Try ( his mouth moves down again, teeth pulling tim's lower lip into his mouth to suck on it, hard, before letting it slip loose from his teeth. ) me ( his grip on tim's cock tightens for just a moment, hand moving up to brush his thumb over the tip--mouth moving down once more to lick across his upper lip. ) Timmy.
( if he can stop and think long enough for that. jason's fine continuing just like this. )
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Well - not much.]
Asshole, [he hisses out with a heavy exhale, but there's no real anger. Tim sounds more awed than anything, maybe a little irritated that Jason's managed to get the better of him with such a damn good distraction, still a little playful. He dips his head down, gets his teeth around the end of Jason's chin, bites hard and quick, then moves back in for his mouth again. One hand grips at Jason's ass, the other slides up his back, around his neck, twists into his hair. See how he likes it, but definitely don't stop.]
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he knows that skin-on-skin contact, like this--doesn't stay that nice for long, though. his fingers keep their grip on tim, pressing his thumb into the slit at the tip of his erection but not taking the time to stroke him, too. tim's teeth dig into his chin, and jason gives a low, almost growled sound in return, mouth biting back into the other's own when he leans in for another kiss. the fingers in his hair, digging into his ass--those are real nice.
jason's really hoping tim doesn't realize the power he has over him, too. dicking with tim like this is great, but this could be going a whole other route of embarrassing if tim realizes just how much pull he has over jason. )
Yeah, but you like my ass. ( his hips roll back against tim's hand at his ass, as if punctuating that statement. ) You've got lube here, don't you? Lotion? I wouldn't want to chafe your dick.
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What a gentleman. Drawer - here.
[Reluctantly, he slips his fingers out of Jason's hair and reaches to the nightstand beside the bed, feeling blindly for the knob to tug the drawer open. He's a little too forceful with it; the drawer pulls out entirely and crashes to the floor, scattering its contents - condoms and lube, of course he has them, he's always prepared.]
Damn it.
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he's quiet, for a moment. head tilted to the side to look towards the mess, before his lips spread into a grin and he laughs. the hand that had been in tim's hair moves to press it's palm against the mattress, holding his weight up to keep from putting too much of it on tim. ) I think you underestimated your strength a little, Timmy.
( that playful lilt is back in his tone; jason shifts his hips forward, grinds soft into tim--a distraction of sorts, while the fingers that had wrapped around his length pull back. tim made what he wanted pretty clear, and sadly, one of them is going to need to get close enough to the shit he just knocked on the floor if they want to continue. )
You're going to need to move your legs.
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What, like you've never - ?
[He doesn't finish that comment, because Jason pushes his hips forward, and there's warmth spidering up his stomach, and Tim has to take a second to catch his breath all over again.
Then Jason's telling him to move. Sure, he can do that, cooperate. Mumbles something like OK as he complies, shifts his legs out of the way, but since he's moving anyway and Jason's a little distracted, Tim also takes the opportunity to sit up and get his teeth around Jason's ear again. He's helping, honestly.]
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I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you couldn't even remember your own name. ( he lowers his voice, murmuring softly as he grinds into tim again, hisses between his teeth at just how good it feels, pressed up against tim like this. he's hard, he wants to fuck tim, but hell--being with him like this is honestly enough for him. this feels good enough, just like this. jason really wouldn't mind rutting against him until tim got off--but tim wanted everything, didn't he?
even with tim's teeth digging into his ear, jason's leaning down, pulling against that hold on his skin to dig his own teeth right into the juncture of tim's neck, hard. )
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I do - I do - [he laughs again, quick and breathless] - can you really blame me if - if I can't keep my hands off you?
[Now that he's got Jason this close, finally, Tim's reluctant to let go of him, even for a moment; if he does, there's a fear, maybe partly irrational, that Jason will disappear. Change his mind, decide to leave after all. Maybe it's not so irrational, knowing Jason. But Tim did the extremely dumb thing of knocking everything to the floor, so letting Jason go, just for a moment, is a logistic necessity. He relaxes back into the mattress, slides his hands off Jason, yields.]
Go ahead - I'll be good.
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the way he had come back, angry and determined to take it out on bruce. how livid he was over being replaced. it's been. . a while, a very long time, and jason has forgiven bruce, they're not on the worst terms, anymore--and he's definitely not on bad terms with tim.
jason shakes it off, though.
let's it go, for once. doesn't let it get to him, he slides off the edge of the bed and gets to his feet, uses the opportunity to take his pants off and grip onto the edge of the kevlar shirt, taking a bit of time to yank that off, too. after it's off, he bends down, picks up the lube and a few condoms. leaves the rest scattered, because he sure as hell isn't taking the time to clean up tim's messes.
not when there's better things they can be doing. jason goes back over to the bed, climbs his way back over tim and leaves the shit he'd picked up by tim's head as he leans back in to kiss him hard once more. )
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