Work Text:
Tim’s thighs were aching. A lance of pain went up his back from his abused ass every time he moved. His back was burning with the fire of scratches interlaced with dully pulsing, fresh cane marks. His left temple throbbed above where Jason had slapped his face pretty hard while Tim sucked him off. That had been new.
That had been good.
They were in one of Jason’s safehouses again, the second time they had met by appointment rather than out on patrol. Tim felt his cheeks flush when he remembered the first time. He still didn’t know who the ‘postman’ had been, and every time he met one of their acquaintances, there was a tiny sliver of doubt. Could this be the one?
It was terrible. It was exciting!
This time, there hadn’t been anyone else involved. Jason had probably just invited Tim here for easy access to all of his toys. And boy howdy had he gone to town with them! Tim happily petted the rope marks around his wrists.
He didn’t think a threesome was going to happen again. Jason seemed a little possessive. All the more reason to appreciate the gift he had given Tim by inviting a third. Tim didn’t know why Jason went to all the trouble for him. Maybe Jason also wanted to see what it was like? Regardless, Tim had certainly enjoyed it.
‟Hey, birdie?”
Tim stopped inspecting his marked-up body in Jason’s bathroom mirror long enough to finally pull on his tank top, then poked out his head. ‟Hm?”
‟Who am I?”
Tim looked at the Red Hood’s helmet. ‟Red Hood?” he replied, not sure what Jason was asking him.
Jason took off the helmet. ‟And now?”
‟Uh, still the same person?”
‟And is that Jason or the Red Hood?”
‟Potayto, potatoh?” Tim said, quietly freaking out. What was going on?
At first, Jason seemed relieved by his reply. But then his expressive features twisted into a frown around his domino. ‟But what are we doing? Like, what are we, Red?”
This was starting to get uncomfortable. Labels, ugh. Tim hastily ducked back into the bathroom and finished dressing. By the time he returned to the apartment’s single room, he had an answer, though he didn’t know if it was the one Jason wanted. ‟...Enemies with benefits?”
Jason’s face did something strange. ‟Enemies?”
Really uncomfortable. ‟Well I’d say that breaking someone’s ribs and leg and wrist and face and stabbing them isn’t what friends do. So, yeah.”
Now Jason looked hurt. ‟I thought you knew that was the Pit. If you don’t trust me, then why…”
Tim scoffed and waved him off. ‟Of course I trust you now. Otherwise I’d hardly be here.”
‟But you still consider us enemies?”
‟Well we’re not friends, are we?” Tim kept his voice carefully neutral. Wouldn’t that be nice, though.
‟...No, I suppose not.” Jason’s voice sounded like he was also aiming for neutral, but like an old record player he missed by a wobble and a scratch. Tim wondered what Jason was nervous about.
His own stomach was steadily cramping up with nerves. Was Jason finally waking up to the reality that Tim was a really unsuitable partner for him? But why would…
Oh.
The hurt transformed into anger. ‟What did B say to you? Tell me and I’ll go kick his ass right now.”
‟Only the truth.” Jason sounded forlorn, but his chin was set at a stubborn angle.
‟Which is?” Tim felt his own features freeze into a stubborn glare.
‟That this isn’t healthy.”
‟B can shut his big mouth. There’s nothing wrong with what we are doing! I thought you knew that, Hood. Don’t let him get under your skin.”
‟Jason.”
‟Excuse me?”
‟There’s nobody here to hear us, and the apartment is bug-free. I checked again just before you arrived. So, call me Jason.”
‟Al...right? Jason.”
‟Thank you. Sometimes I’m not sure…” Jason drifted off.
‟Jason? What’s going on? Please, talk to me.” It was easy to see that something Bruce had said had rattled Jason greatly. Dammit, Tim should have stuck around after all. But he really hadn’t been in the mood for one of Bruce’s lectures, and besides, seeing Tim leave freely had probably only helped Jason’s credibility.
If B had managed to convince Jason that he was abusing Tim against his will, though, Tim and Bruce were going to have words.
‟Are you happy with what we have?”
‟Sure.” This thing with Jason was more than he’d ever had before. It was amazing.
‟But don’t you want more? Don’t you want… love?”
It came to Tim that he’d severely underestimated the importance of this conversation.
The realization turned him into a stuttering fool. ‟Love, uh. It’s… it’s a romantic notion. Foolishness. I think you may have read too many romance novels, Jay.” A fake laugh followed the inadequate words. He sank down heavily into the other chair and propped his arms on the table. His fingers immediately began to fidget with each other.
‟You don’t think love is real?”
There was something about the question that had all of Tim’s instincts rearing, making him too flustered to come up with an adequate response. Unfortunately, that left him with only the truth. ‟I’ve seen no evidence to the contrary. Though, if love is real... then I guess some people are just inherently unloveable.”
Jason flinched. ‟I suppose that’s fair.”
It wasn’t.
If love existed, why should everyone receive it but Tim? He’d certainly never had any loving family. Tim’s parents hadn’t loved him, Bruce never fully accepted him, Dick replaced him without so much as a by-your-leave and instead embraced the little brother who’d tried several times to kill Tim.
And as for romantic love? Tim and Stephanie had been more of a ‘hey, let’s be less lonely together’ thing than a real relationship; there was affection there, but certainly not the romance-novel type of ‘love’ that Jason seemed to be after.
As for Jason himself… Jason had been Tim’s hero from the time Tim first saw the new Robin fly through the streets of Gotham. And upon their first meeting, Jason had made it very, very clear that Tim’s feelings were entirely one-sided. They may be on better terms these days, but that didn’t mean Jason actually liked him. Tim was just a very convenient and very eager play partner. A sub who could take whatever Jason dished out and who wasn’t a threat to his secret identity. As a kink partner, Tim thought he was pretty damn great.
But if Jason wanted romance, he probably wouldn’t be looking to Tim for that.
Case in point.
‟I think we should stop seeing each other.”
Tim swallowed. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he managed a terse, ‟I understand.”
Standing up was hard. He supposed Jason’s legs had been shaking because he knew that giving the boot to Tim would put a strain on their working relationship, and perhaps on his accord with the other Bats, as well. Tim’s own legs were shaking now; he told himself it was in sympathy with Jason for having to broach this undesirable conversation.
Tim could have saved both of them the trouble if he’d just read the signs. Surely if Jason was ready for a real relationship and no longer wanted to play with Tim, there had been signs. But Tim had been too eager for every little scrap of Jason’s attention that he’d missed them all. Until about five minutes ago, he’d had no idea that Jason was going to end things.
Fuck, he was so naive. This was hardly the first time in Tim’s life that he’d been unwanted and overstayed his welcome. When would he learn?
‟I suppose I should…”
Finally, Tim’s legs obeyed and let him get up off the chair. They felt wooden, but they still did their job of carrying him over to the door. His equally wooden arms snatched his cape and staff from beside the door. Tim took a deep breath. Then he opened the door and stepped through.
Shivers ran up and down Tim’s body, and suddenly every ache and sting from their session – their last ever session – violently made itself known. Awareness of everything wrong with his body and with himself as a person pummeled down on Tim like heavy bags filled with bowling balls. ‟Ngh.”
His legs turned from wood to rubber and ceased carrying his weight. He folded onto the landing and buried his face in the nook between the second step up and the wall.
Pull yourself together, Timothy. Never show weakness. You’re a Drake, act like it.
Yes, mother.
Tim scrabbled at the wall, but couldn’t quite get his limbs to coordinate.
Just like your usual crashes, come on. Don’t be a nuisance. What if one of Jason’s neighbors finds you like this?
It took a painful effort of will, but Tim finally managed to get back on his feet and make his way downstairs.
It was hardly the first time his weakness got the better of him. Nothing noteworthy. This just happened sometimes. Usually not until he’d made it home from patrol or from a session with Jason, though. He knew Jason was a bit put-off by his hasty retreats, but Tim couldn’t possibly stay after. He very much didn’t want Jason to see him like this; or Enrique and Mateo, for that matter. Or let one of the villains know they’d gotten under his skin. Or Bruce, ugh.
No, much better to quickly make his way home and wait it out there.
His bike was luckily close by. Tim knew it was risky to drive in this state, but experience had taught him it was even more dangerous to grapple. And it wasn’t like Red Robin could take public transports and expect to maintain a secret identity.
Kicking the machine into gear, he was ready to take off when suddenly the Red Hood stood in front of him.
‟Stop.”
‟Please step out of my way, Hood.”
‟No. We need to talk.”
Tim’s throat closed. ‟I think I’ve done enough talking for one night.”
‟Red, please.”
That was strange. Jason almost sounded desperate. Had he reconsidered?
Maybe Jason had figured out that he’d be at loose ends until he actually found ‘love’. Maybe he’d realized he would be better off just keeping Tim until he found someone better. Tim wasn’t too proud to agree to immediately resume their play partnership. He’d enjoy it less, knowing without a doubt that Jason’s attention came with an expiration date, but then part of him had always known and he’d enjoyed it anyway. At least he’d get more time with Jason before the inevitable end.
Tim ruthlessly squashed the tiny seed of hope.
Jason wasn’t here about that, he wasn’t dumb enough to make such a hasty decision. Jason had kicked him out and meant it. So he was here about something else. Tim couldn’t think of anything good.
He rev’ed the engine threateningly. Jason stubbornly refused to get out of his way.
‟What do you want?” Tim hated that, for all that his voice started out hard and offensive, it ended on a tiny, high note.
‟Fine. We’ll do it out here.” Even through the voice modulator, Tim could hear the frustration that made it seem like Jason was about to gnash his teeth. ‟It’s really just one thing, shouldn’t take too much of your time.”
What could Jason possibly want from him now? Reassurances that Tim wasn’t going to bad-mouth him to their acquaintances? Or did he want to blot out the bat on Tim’s chest? Joke was on him in that case, the thin lines had already mostly faded.
Almost like Jason hadn’t actually meant to claim him at all.
‟What.” This time, Tim’s voice remained steady.
‟When you said that some people are inherently unloveable… Were you talking about me? Or about yourself?”
Tim snarled. ‟Are you really going to make me say it?”
Jason’s hands clamped down onto Tim’s handle bars. ‟Yes. Or I won’t let you leave.”
Feeling trapped and flayed open, Tim wrapped his arms around himself and looked furiously at the ground. ‟Me, okay?! Of course it was me! That what you want to hear? I can say it again if it gives you pleasure. Yes, I know I’m not partner material! Yes, I know you could never love me!” He snorted bitterly. ‟Not like you haven’t made your feelings about me clear the first time, but please believe me, the message has definitely sunk in.” He felt his fingers skim the scar in his shoulder and snatched them back like they’d been burned. ‟Happy now?”
He raised his eyes far enough to see his handle bars. Jason’s hands were still gripping them. The fingers seemed to be trembling, but maybe that was just because Tim was shivering himself.
‟No.”
The word was quiet, barely loud enough for Tim to be sure it was even there. But then it came again, louder. ‟No. FUCK no!”
Forcing himself to remain calm, Tim firmly planted his legs on the ground and pushed against the hands holding his bike upright. ‟Let me go.”
‟Red. Shut up.”
Tim gulped. He’d never heard Hood sound like that. It was both menacing and dead and… something else he couldn’t quite place.
‟Listen to me now, and listen well.” The trembling of the hands beneath Tim’s own increased. ‟You are loveable. You are the best person I know. I can never apologize enough for how I’ve treated you in the past, in fact let me say it again right now: I was wrong, you didn’t deserve me attacking you and I’m deeply sorry. You’re an amazing person, and I’m pretty sure you have no idea just how great you are. You’re dead intelligent, you’re strong, you’re dedicated. You make a great vigilante, you’ve saved hundreds, possibly thousands of people, and I know for a fact that the other Bats deeply appreciate you. B loves you. If you trust me on nothing else, trust me on this. He’s got a shitty way of showing it, but with the way he and D came after me because of Titans Tower? Yeah, not a doubt about it.”
Tim’s eye were wide behind his domino. What the fuck was Jason playing at?
‟I messed up. I see that now. I shouldn’t have… Anyway. Listen.”
Tim was listening alright.
‟I thought you were saying that I’m not loveable, okay? And you… you certainly have a right to that opinion. I have been… I mean, I am…”
Finally, Tim’s voice was returned to him. ‟That’s ridiculous.”
‟What, me thinking that the child I attacked and tortured was right to think I’m a monster?”
‟I’ve never held it against you. Not since I learned about the Pit Rage.”
‟You threw it in my face just ten minutes ago.”
‟I was merely stating a fact. Even with the Pit Rage, you could have chosen any target to direct that anger at. But you chose me.”
‟Because Talia put me up to it!”
Tim’s mind blanked. ‟...She did?”
‟Yes! Why else would I decide to hurt a child? Come on! I was out of my fucking mind and raging and wanting to rend and tear, like a rabid dog. I was a loose canon and she pointed me at you.”
‟You called me Replacement, though. Even after you… got better. That… I think that part was real.”
Jason sighed and lowered his head. ‟Only when Bruce was around. I’m still mad at Bruce for replacing me so quickly, you know. But not at you, Red.”
‟It wasn’t his fault.”
‟Who else could I possibly blame for B taking on a new Robin when my dead body was barely cooling in the ground?”
Tim’s lips quirked with dark humor. ‟And we’re back to you hating me.”
‟Excuse me?”
‟It was my idea.”
‟Becoming Robin? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Tim realized they’d never actually talked about the past. Had nobody else talked to Jason, either?
But no, Tim could see it. Jason wasn’t easy for a Bat to talk to on any given day, and his own death and what happened after it was certainly a touchy subject. He would have run before listening to anyone talk about that time. Or shot the messenger, even odds on that. Tim sighed. Apparently the glorious task now fell to him. Because Jason would surely take this better coming from him. Heh, as if.
‟Your death hit B hard. He was going off the rails, leaving people with permanent damage for minor offenses, turning Gotham’s protector into a vicious nightmare. He had to be stopped. The only way I knew to do that was to put another Robin by his side, but D refused to return. So I…” He hadn’t ever actually admitted this to anyone. Outside of him and Bruce, Tim wasn’t sure anyone knew. ‟I blackmailed him to give Robin to me.”
‟You what?!”
‟I threatened to tell the press about his real identity unless he trained me as Robin.”
Jason’s voice clearly showed every bit of his incredulity that his helmeted face didn’t. ‟You want me to believe that a pre-teen –”
‟Excuse me, I was in the double-digits at the time.”
‟Fuck off. But seriously, you did not simply figure out Batman’s real identity as a shrimp.”
Tim felt a pleasant sense of smugness pushing against the icy, tangled knot in his stomach, causing part of it to melt. ‟I did.”
‟What proof could you possibly have had?”
‟Pictures. That I took myself. And before you ask, yes, tiny little me went out into Gotham almost every night to take pictures of Batman and Robin and no, my parents didn’t notice because they were hardly ever home.” Tim felt the atmosphere shift. For once, he wanted to embrace hope rather than push it away to avoid getting hurt. ‟I could show you if you’re interested?”
‟You still have them?”
‟Of course! Robin II looks delectable in those sparkly panties. In fact, I think those were the incentive for my sexual awakening.”
Tim became aware that he’d said too much by Jason’s abrupt silence. He played back his last words and flushed hard. ‟Uh.”
‟You stalked Batman and Robin,” Jason finally said, voice carefully level, ‟and you got off on Robin’s scaly panties?!” His voice was not level at the end, not at all.
Tim ducked. ‟...Sorry?”
The next moment, Jason was laughing. It sounded strange through the voice modulator, a sinister cackle, but Tim had heard him laugh often enough by now to know it was real. Jason was actually cracking up at the idea of Tim fantasizing about his ass in that too-tight costume.
Well at least he’s not mad about it.
‟And here I thought you didn’t much like me.” Jason was still chuckling as he said it.
‟Would I play these games with someone I hated?”
Jason’s body language lost the relaxed ease. ‟You seem to think I would.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. ‟That’s different, though. It would be hard for anyone to let go and submit to someone they didn’t like. But hurting them? Controlling them? That could –”
‟Do you mean to tell me,” Jason growled, suddenly all menace again, ‟that you think I do this because I want to punish you? Do you think I get off on humiliating and hurting people I hate?”
That was a stupid question, given Jason’s history. ‟Y—”
‟Sexually?”
And oh, good point. But… ‟I’ve always been the exception to your rules.” It wasn’t a matter of pride; just a sad fact of life.
‟You were the one to point out to Enrique and Mateo that our sessions were consensual!” Jason sounded outraged now, and maybe a little bit panicked. Tim couldn’t figure out why.
‟And they were.” Why was Jason so mad?
‟So you consented to be dominated and hurt by someone you thought hated you.”
‟Yes?” So what?
‟B was right! This is completely unhealthy! And not just for me.”
‟For you?” This conversation was making less and less sense.
‟We’ll get to that,” Jason growled. ‟After we talk about why you would do something so stupid.
Unfair. ‟I don’t see the problem. We both get what we want, so what’s the big issue?”
‟The issue is that you should never give so much power to someone who hates you!!! Christ, birdie, have a little self-respect!”
Tim scoffed. ‟That’s for people who can afford it.”
‟Enough.” Suddenly, Jason’s hands slipped out from underneath Tim’s. ‟Off,” he commanded.
‟I’m fine over here, thank you.” Tim felt rattled. Why did Jason want him off the bike now? Was he going to punch Tim for being stupid, just like he’d attacked him for daring to be Robin?
‟Get off that bike or I’ll make you.”
Fuck.
Tim climbed off on once-again shaking legs. He kicked the stand out and locked the bike. Then he faced Jason, hands loose at his sides. ‟Now what?”
‟Now we go back to that damn apartment and finish the conversation where no passers-by or neighbors can hear.”
Tim swallowed.
Okay, yes, they’d been much too free in their choice of topics for a conversation between a vigilante and an infamous crime lord out in the open. But going back to Jason’s apartment right now didn’t feel particularly safe.
Jason must have read some of Tim’s doubts in his expression. Or maybe it was Tim’s trembling… everything… that gave it away.
Jason took off the helmet. ‟Hey, baby bird. I’m not going to harm you. Okay?”
He sounded so sincere. Almost like the Robin Tim had adored as a kid. Tim took a deep breath and nodded, helpless to do anything else.
The way back up to the apartment seemed unreasonably long. They trudged up the stairs in silence, Tim following behind Jason. It was only now that he noticed Jason’s socked feet. Jason must have run after him the moment he realized that…
That Tim hadn’t meant to call him unloveable.
Once the door had closed behind them, Tim headed for the bathroom. Rummaging around for Jason’s bottle of solvent, he went about taking off his domino.
Jason, looking in on him, silently followed suit.
They didn’t sit on the hard chairs this time. Upon exiting the bathroom, Jason made his way to the bed and leaned back against the headboard. He gestured between his legs and opened his arms for Tim.
Hesitantly, still unsure of the situation, Tim knelt in the V of Jason’s legs and looked at Jason. He really had the most amazing blue eyes. Despite everything, Tim felt himself reacting to the situation like Pavlov’s dog. Bed + Jason = ...
A frustrated noise was followed by determined hands on Tim’s shoulder and waist, tumbling him into Jason’s lap with his back to Jason. ‟I’m offering you a hug, you idiot! For once in your life, please take it.”
Oh.
Okay.
As Jason folded his arms around Tim and pulled him tightly back against his warm body, the man huffed out a laugh. ‟At least now I know that you aren’t just attracted to the Red Hood.”
He’d said something about that before, but Tim still didn’t get it. ‟Why would you think I was?”
Jason hooked his chin over Tim’s shoulder, his warm breath tickling Tim’s cheek and some of his hair. It felt kind of nice. ‟How about the fact that we’ve only ever played when I was wearing the helmet? I was like ninety percent sure that your kink for that thing, no matter how inexplicable, was the only reason you ever came back for more.”
Tim felt his trembling abate and wasn’t sure whether the warmth had prompted it or the sheer lunacy of that thought. ‟Wait. Is that why you wore it even when we played indoors?”
‟I wasn’t going to risk finding out I was wrong, okay?” The arms around Tim clenched tighter.
Tim wrapped his own arms around Jason’s as best he could, hugging the solid, warm limbs that were holding him so close. He sometimes got this feeling of being held, safe, protected when Jason fucked him, that strong, hot body surrounding Tim on all sides as he pushed into him. Tim relished it. But he’d never thought it would feel so good, all by itself.
‟This is nice.” The words were out before he could think better of them. He felt himself blush.
‟I think so, too.” Jason’s arms gave him a brief squeeze before going back to simply holding him. ‟Would you be willing to let me do this more often?”
‟What, hugging me after I fall apart?”
‟Hugging you, feeding you, taking care of you after I take you apart,” Jason corrected softly. ‟It’s called aftercare, and it’s important to prevent sub-drop. And, uh… top-drop.”
Tim knew about those terms in theory, of course. But he’d never thought to apply them to himself and Jason. ‟You think that’s necessary?”
Jason’s hold slacked, causing Tim to tense in reaction. Jason’s next words confirmed that Tim had fucked up. ‟Look, I know that you’re very self-sufficient and don’t need any pampering and stuff. But I… I’m actually pretty weak, okay? If I can’t confirm that you’re alright, if I don’t get a chance to take care of you, I…”
‟Drop?” Tim whispered, the word barely leaving his mouth.
Jason’s silence was its own answer.
‟I’m so sorry,” Tim said, trying to hold back tears. He’d fucked up more than he thought.
This isn’t healthy, Jason had said. And Tim had selfishly thought that was all about him, even after Jason had mentioned that it wasn’t.
‟What… what is it like?” Tim asked. ‟Dropping.”
‟Kinda like this,” Jason said. ‟What I felt before we started hugging, I mean. I find myself trembling, questioning everything I’ve done, worrying about you. Wondering if this time, I may have gone too far. Falling into a hole with no idea how to climb back out. Spiraling. Unhappy, unsafe, unmoored.”
Tim swallowed. It was hard to admit to weaknesses. In fact, he was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed. But after Jason had gone first, he felt like it might be kind of okay?
And like Jason might actually understand.
‟I often feel like that.”
Jason flinched so hard his teeth clacked loudly where he’d knocked his chin against Tim’s shoulder. ‟Often? You mean... every time we play?”
Tim frowned. ‟What? No. Only sometimes, like maybe one in six or seven times.”
Jason made a hurt sound but didn’t interrupt when Tim made to continue.
‟But outside of play, sure. I come home from a hard night patrolling and I crash. I have a fight with Bruce and I barely make it home. Damian tries to poison me, again, and Dick waves it off –”
‟Poison you?!”
‟– and I just… You know, that first time we played? I was actually in your territory because it was the only place I was sure they wouldn’t follow.”
‟And I attacked you for it!” Jason sounded unreasonably wounded. And also like he’d forgotten about the poisoning thing. Good. Tim really didn’t want to burden Jason with all of his issues.
‟Yeah,” Tim replied, ‟and it was just the distraction I needed.” He felt a fond smile slipping onto his face. ‟I could tell you didn’t really mean it anymore, and you were still my number one crush and fantasy, you know? And then your hand slipped…”
‟And I found you arching into my touch.” Jason completed. ‟But you were on the verge of crashing at the time?!”
‟And then I wasn’t,” Tim confirmed. ‟Because you were there.”
‟Because I was beating you up and getting off on it.”
‟Because you were seeing me. Paying attention to me. Wanting me.”
‟Birdie, you know you’re breaking my heart right now, yeah?”
Tim would have scoffed and called Jason a ridiculous liar, except he could feel hot, wet drops falling onto his shoulder and dampening his hair.
He hugged Jason’s arms more tightly to himself. ‟Sorry.”
‟Please don’t apologize. I’m glad you feel like you can talk to me about this.”
Immediately, Tim’s walls came up. ‟Ugh, I’m being a bother, aren’t I? Sorry! I’ll stop talking now.”
‟...That is literally the opposite of what I just said I wanted.”
‟What, you want me to cry to you about how I’m an attention-seeking bitch who has to run after each session to spare you the bother of putting me back together in case I fall apart?”
‟Yes! Except I really very much don’t want you running away after a session. That feeling that you just agreed you know and which is debilitating enough that you run home and hide when it gets you? I get that too, in case you missed that point. I get that when I can’t take care of you after an intense session because you’ve run off.”
‟...Oh.”
‟Yes, ‘Oh’! That’s why I asked you all those questions earlier. Because you running off after each session hurts something inside me. Because I suspected that you were hurting, too. Because I needed to figure out how to get you to stay.”
‟Don’t.” Tim suddenly couldn’t breathe right. His throat was too tight. ‟Please don’t.”
Again, the arms around him loosened like Jason meant to let go, just when Tim really needed him to be solid and real. He made a distressed sound that he immediately wanted to swallow back down.
‟Don’t what?” Jason’s voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to it.
‟Don’t make me think I can have more than I deserve.”
‟Aw, birdie.” The hardness was gone and the arms were back. Tim burrowed into them, his own eyes now burning, too.
‟If I stay,” Tim mumbled into Jason’s arm, ‟I might not ever want to leave.”
‟Stay,” Jason repeated.
‟I might think you want me.”
‟Stay.”
‟I might think you… care for me.”
‟Stay, please.”
Jason’s arms shifted again, causing Tim to whine and hold on tightly. Jason was stronger though, and Tim eventually had to allow the protective arms out of his grasp. Jason didn’t withdraw, though. He merely turned Tim around until he was facing Jason.
Red-rimmed blue eyes looked into his own burning blues. ‟I want you. I care for you. I want you to stay. I want to hug you and feed you and help you when you crash. Please, let me.”
‟Nobody has ever wanted me before.”
‟Not even your parents?”
‟Especially not my parents. Nightly Bat-watching and nobody noticed, remember?”
‟More fool them. You are so amazing.” Jason brushed a hand gently through Tim’s hair. It felt wonderful against his sensitive scalp. He hummed quietly and closed his eyes.
‟You like this?”
‟M-hm.”
‟Yeah. Me too.”
Jason’s face was so close now. Tim could almost taste his lips…
Oh.