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“Drake, I need the files for the Nigma case.”
Damian was hovering behind Tim, the sound of his incessantly tapping foot echoing in the batcave. Tim chose to ignore the boy and kept his eyes glued on the computer screen. “They’re on my laptop,” he replied, carefully adjusting the levels on a particularly fiddly modeling program.
“And your laptop would be...?”
“Upstairs, in my room.” Tim took a deep breath, swiveled his chair around, and looked Damian directly in the eye - something dangerous even when he wasn't asking for a favor as risky as this. “Go get it for me?”
“I’m not your errand boy," Damian spat, color rising in his cheeks.
Tim resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tilted his head. “Well, gosh, I guess you don’t really need those files, then.”
Damian huffed and stalked towards the stairs, taking care to make his ascent as noisy as possible. Now that the brat was out of his hair, Tim could settle down and focus on running the simulation models Dick requested. He turned back to the screen, about to start the program when the comm-link crackled in his ear.
“Drake, I can’t find your stupid laptop.”
Tim frowned. “It’s on my desk, on the right hand side.”
“I’m not blind, you idiot. It’s not here.”
Tim counted down from ten and then glanced at the screen. The unfinished modeling program blinked back at him, a reminder of both how little progress he had made so far with Damian breathing down his neck, and how much work he had left to finish. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be up in a sec.”
“Tt.” The device crackled off.
Tim saved his progress before hurrying up the stairs to the manor. The more he thought about it, the stupider his suggestion that Damian retrieve his laptop seemed. Who knew what the boy could get up to if left alone in his room? He really wasn’t looking forward to spending the night scanning the room for leftover traps and explosives. He sped down the hallway and yanked the door open.
“Damian, I told you, it’s ri—” Oh.
Damian was sitting on his bed, and next to him was the laptop in question. And next to that was something that shouldn’t have been there at all.
“What—that’s private!”
Tim ran towards the bed and swiped his arm out to grab the black harness and dildo currently laying at Damian’s side. Damian grinned and pulled it behind him. “Really Drake, if you didn’t want me to find it, you should have done a better job of hiding it. Underwear drawer? Really?”
Tim growled and made another grab for the harness, but this time Damian jumped up from the bed, swerved behind him, and pinned him forward into the mattress.
“Get off me! What the fuck are you doing?” Tim cried, trying to buck the heavy body off of his back. Damian laughed at the boy struggling beneath him and reached up to tuck a few strands of hair behind Tim’s ear.
“No thanks, I think I like you better like this,” he said, hot breath tickling at Tim’s ear. He snaked a hand through Tim’s hair before jerking his head up by a fistful. “Tell me why you have this.”
Tim gritted his teeth and struck his arms out behind him to pound any inch of Damian he could reach. “Fuck. You.”
Damian chuckled into his neck. “Very well. I suppose you won’t mind if I just take this and leave it out for Pennyworth to find—”
“No!” Tim yelped, barely able to breathe under Damian's crushing weight. He let his arms drop and stilled his movements under Damian’s body, his heart pounding in his chest. “What…what do I have to do for you to give it back?”
“I already asked you a question. I’m not going to repeat myself.” He leaned the entirety of his body weight against Tim’s back, pulling a strangled moan from the boy beneath him.
“I…it’s mine, okay?”
“I figured as much.” Damian let go of his grip on Tim’s hair and rolled off of his body. Tim weighed the possibility of making a dash towards the exit against the risk of future retribution and decided against it. He sat up and chanced a glance at the boy lounging beside him. Damian was looking up at him expectantly.
“What?”
Damian smirked. “I’m just imagining you impaling yourself on this.”
Tim blushed. “I—I don’t—do that…”
Damian raised an eyebrow. “What do you do, then? You really want me to believe you don’t fuck yourself silly with this thing every night pretending it’s Grayson?”
Tim bit his lip and looked away. As appealing as that visual was… “I normally just…wear it.”
Damian looked up at him blankly. “You just…wear it. I don’t understand.”
“I just wear it and, you know…” Tim waited for the ground to open up and swallow him. Any day now.
Damian positively glowed with this new information. “Oh…oh my god. Oh my god, Drake.” He started to laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Tim scowled. Maybe it would be better if the ground opened up and swallowed Damian.
Damian was still laughing. “Put it on.”
“What?” Tim yelped.
Damian crossed his arms. “You know I hate to repeat myself.”
When Tim didn’t move, he curved a hand around his mouth and turned towards the door. “Oh Alf—”
“Jesus, Damian, fine. Just shut up, okay?”
Damian grinned up at him, looking more and more like the cat that swallowed the canary. Tim stood and fumbled nervously with the button on his jeans. This...this wasn't actually happening, was it? This was just a weird sex dream, or no, wait--fear toxin. Yes. Fear toxin. Nothing sexy about this or the stupidly handsome jerk sitting in front of him. Nothing at all.
A frustrated sound from Damian's direction pulled Tim from his thoughts. He gritted his teeth and pulled his jeans down along with his boxer briefs in one stroke. Damian was looking at him impassively, as though measuring up an opponent, and then he was tugging at the hem of Tim's hoodie. Tim made a show of rolling his eyes as he pulled it up over his head, trying to ignore the bright red flush he was sure covered his face and chest.
When he emerged from the hoodie, Damian was smiling again, and his grin looked even sharper as he handed Tim the harness. It was made of black leather straps that buckled around his waist and legs, and there was a large metal O-ring in the center which was currently accommodating a realistically-sculpted dildo. Tim pulled the harness up his legs and fastened it tightly around his waist and thighs, the leather digging into his pale skin. His cock, much to his dismay, was starting to swell as it remembered all the other times he had done this in private. With the harness in place, his dick was pushed down towards his thighs, just barely peeking out from under the black leather.
“Oh, that is just precious. You’re even more pathetic than I thought, Drake.” Damian tentatively reached a hand out towards the dildo. A tingle ran through Tim’s body when his fingers connected with the tip of the toy. Damian trailed his fingertips up and down the dildo, just barely touching the soft silicone. “So...do you just jerk it off and pretend it’s you?”
Tim looked up at the ceiling, wishing he were anywhere but there and trying to ignore how hard he was getting looking at Damian stroking his surrogate cock.
Damian suddenly pulled hard at the dildo, jerking Tim forward a step. “Look at me when I talk to you,” he snarled.
Tim swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Yes,” he choked out, trying not to stare at those long tan fingers sliding up and down his cock.
“Why, though? Do you like to jerk it off and pretend it’s someone else’s dick in your hand? Or,” he leaned forward and gave the tip a lick, “do you just feel ashamed of your own pathetic excuse for a penis?”
Tim groaned at the sight of Damian pressing his lips to the underside of the dildo, sucking along its unyielding length. Damian slid his mouth over the end and suddenly swallowed the cock whole, his nose pushing into Tim’s leather-encased groin.
“Fuck!” Tim moaned, willing his hips not to thrust forward into Damian’s enthusiastically swallowing throat. Where had he learned to do that? For his part, Damian moaned happily around the dildo, the vibrations travelling down the silicone and straight to Tim’s cock trapped underneath.
Tim couldn’t help himself. “Please touch me,” he moaned, shuddering at the sight of Damian bobbing up and down the dildo. Damian pulled back and touched a finger to the reddened head of Tim’s cock poking out from under the harness.
“Oh, is there something under there?” he asked, deviousness flashing in his eyes. He circled a finger around the weeping head of Tim’s cock. “Don’t lie. You fucking love being ignored, don’t you?” he growled. Tim’s knees trembled at the contact, but the hint of Bruce in Damian’s voice had him fighting to stay upright.
Damian crouched down in front of him and, beginning at the crease of Tim’s right thigh, traced the edge of the harness with his tongue. When he reached the center and the dripping head of Tim’s cock, he skipped over it, continuing to the other side without giving Tim the contact he so desperately craved.
Smirking up at the telltale throb of Tim’s cock, Damian slid his fingers along Tim’s waist until he reached the buckles holding him tight. He loosened the straps and pulled the harness down, freeing Tim’s aching cock from its awkward position.
“Well, would you look at that,” Damian murmured, taking in the sight of Tim’s bobbing erection. He picked the harness up from the floor and slid the dildo out of its holder. He pressed its base against Tim’s pelvis, displaying it right alongside Tim’s penis. “I can’t blame you, Drake...if my dick was that tiny, I’d want a replacement, too.”
Tim could feel his ears burning. He wasn’t that small, was he? Sure, he was somewhat smaller than the men he saw in those late-night videos secreted away on his laptop, but wasn’t everyone?
Damian positioned his thumb and index finger in a tight circle around the dildo as if noting its circumference, and then lifted his hand from the dildo to Tim’s cock. There was a little space left between the ring of his fingers and Tim’s cock.
“Hmm, yes, the dildo is definitely thicker than you,” he noted, sliding the two fingers loosely up and down Tim’s cock. Tim bit back the moan that threatened to escape his throat each time the fingers bumped against his glans. Damian touched the end of Tim’s cock and then measured out the distance between it and the end of the dildo. There was a good two inches difference in length between Tim’s cock and its surrogate. Damian smirked up at Tim. “Well, I think that speaks for itself.”
Damian wrapped his hand around both cocks and began stroking them both, together. Tim clenched his eyes shut, trying his hardest not to thrust back into the now precum-slick fist. Damian grinned as a particularly large stream of lubricant gushed from Tim’s overwrought cock. He continued to stroke him, driving him up to that blessed edge. Just as Tim was preparing to stumble over the edge into his orgasm, he slowed the sliding motions of his fist.
"I think that’s enough of that for now,” Damian said, sounding oddly breathless himself.
Damian picked up the forgotten harness and slid the dildo back through the O-ring, and began pulling it up Tim’s legs again.
“What are you doing?” Tim groaned, reaching down to stroke his needy cock.
Damian slapped his hand away. “No touching,” he warned.
He tightened the harness around Tim’s waist again, pushing down his aching cock. Damian straightened up and pushed Tim back down onto the bed on his back. He quickly undressed himself and straddled Tim’s narrow hips. Tim couldn’t help but stare. Damian’s own cock was, well, big. Hung. There was no other word for it. It was slightly longer than Tim’s, but much thicker, too.
“You look really good like this,” Damian said, scanning his eyes up and down Tim’s torso. He leaned over to Tim’s bedside table, rummaging through the drawer for a moment before sitting upright again in triumph. He had a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms clutched in his hand.
Damian smirked. “Why do you even have these? It’s not like anyone would want to fuck your sad excuse for a cock.” And if that didn’t just make Tim harder. Jesus.
Damian looked smug as he pumped his own flushed cock, grinding slightly against Tim’s crotch. “I can see you staring, Drake. Jealous?” Tim felt himself flushing again. Damian ripped a condom from the strip and opened it with his teeth, and then slid it down over the dildo. Tim thrust up as Damian began smoothing lube over the condom with his hand, wishing so badly that it was his cock being prepared. Damian lifted his hips and lined the dildo up with his entrance, seemingly relishing the sensation of the toy sliding against his hole, before slowly sliding down on the ever-erect cock.
“Fuck, Drake, you feel amazing,” he moaned, allowing himself to sink lower and lower onto the dildo. Tim whimpered at the implication - oh, how he wished it were his cock! - and then watched slack-jawed as Damian began to twitch his hips back and forth. He was gyrating on the dildo, hips dancing in a hypnotizing circle and stimulating Tim’s cock trapped underneath the harness. Each time the dildo pressed against his prostate, Damian's breath would catch in his throat, his eyes fighting to stay open despite the immense pleasure.
After a few minutes of this exquisite torture, Damian settled into a rhythm as he impaled himself on the dildo. He had his hands clenched tight on Tim’s shoulders, head thrown back, and now he was pumping himself up and down in earnest on the silicone cock. Tim moaned as he imagined how tight and wet and hot it must feel, shocked at how badly he wanted to be the one sliding in and out of that slick little hole.
Pretty soon, Damian was slurring out an incessant jumble of “yes” and “fuck” and other words in a language Tim couldn’t speak. And suddenly there was a high pitched whine, and then a shout of “Drake!”, and Damian was cumming, spurting out onto Tim’s stomach and chest, one of the jets hitting him right under his jaw.
Damian laughed shakily, then slowly unclenched his hands from Tim’s shoulders and shifted himself off of Tim’s hips. He reached lazily for the splatter of cum on Tim's jaw, swirling his fingers in it, then slid his hands down to the buckles at Tim’s waist.
“Look at you,” Damian whispered almost reverently as he pulled the harness down Tim’s sweat-slicked thighs. Tim’s cock stood at attention, a steady stream of precum slinking down to a small puddle on his thigh. Damian leaned over, kissed the tip, and then swallowed him whole, taking almost the entirety of Tim’s cock deep into his mouth. It didn’t take more than five, maybe six seconds of that exquisite hot suction before Tim was shuddering down Damian’s throat, hands fisted in the sheets to keep him from pushing down on Damian's head. Damian sucked at his cock greedily, swirling his tongue around the head as cum splashed against the roof of his mouth. When Tim's thighs finally stopped twitching, Damian pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.
"I guess this means I can borrow your laptop, right?"