Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/801447.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU_-_Comicverse
  Relationship:
      Tim_Drake/Jason_Todd, Dick_Grayson/Koriand'r, Roy_Harper/Donna_Troy
  Character:
      Tim_Drake, Jason_Todd, Dick_Grayson, Bruce_Wayne, Koriand'r, Donna_Troy,
      Roy_Harper, Alfred_Pennyworth, Titans_and_JLA_Ensemble
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Birthday_Party
  Series:
      Part 21 of Kings_Among_Runaways
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-05-10 Words: 9321
****** Celebrations and Revelations ******
by glymr, iesika
Summary
     He looks up...and up - until he meets slightly eerie shimmering green
     eyes. "Wow," he says in spite of himself. Before he can say anything
     else, he's being enveloped in warm arms and pressed up against her
     enormous orange breasts. For a minute Jason thinks he could die happy
     right here.
     "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Jason," she says warmly. "Dick has
     told us a great deal about you."

"Roy, meet Jason and Tim," says Dick. He waves his arm with a stupid flourish.
"My new little brothers.  Jason, Tim, this is Roy, also known as Arsenal."
"What, you're passing on the panties?" says Roy as he shakes Tim's hand. 
"Preparing for a life without pants, boys?"  He lets go of Tim's hand and takes
Jason's, his grip strong and challenging. 
Jason rolls his eyes.  "Just because Dickhead can't dress himself doesn't mean
the rest of us have that problem," he says.
"Jason!" gasps Tim.
Roy's eyes widen slightly, his mouth curling into a grin.  He releases Jason's
hand and glances at Dick.  "...'Dickhead'?  I like him."
"Don't get any ideas," says Dick with a smirk.  "He's got a serious case of
underage."
Roy laughs.  "You have a one-track mind, bird brain."  Grabbing Dick, he pulls
him into a hug.  "Happy birthday, Shortpants."
"Thanks, Roy," says Dick, hugging him back enthusiastically.  "I'm glad you
came."
Roy opens his mouth to reply, but he's interrupted as the doorbell rings again.
Everyone turns to see who the new arrivals will be, and moments later Alfred
escorts in two of the most amazing women Jason has ever seen.
Donna Troy is built like...well, there's no getting around it. The woman's a
goddess. Her hair is a deep black, her eyes a clear blue, and her tits...Jason
pulls his eyes away from them and tries to focus on her face as Dick introduces
them. She smiles at him and shakes his hand, leaving him feeling slightly
dazed.
Turning to the other newcomer, he finds himself face-to-breast with someone
right off the front pages of Sophisticate magazine. He looks up...and up -
until he meets slightly eerie shimmering green eyes. "Wow," he says in spite of
himself. Before he can say anything else, he's being enveloped in warm arms and
pressed up against her enormous orange breasts.  For a minute Jason thinks he
could die happy right here.
"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Jason," she says warmly. "Dick has told us a
great deal about you."
"Uh, yeah, me too," he says a bit too fervently to be cool. She smells really
good, sort of spicy and sweet. After giving him one more squeeze against her
big, soft breasts, she releases him and smiles gently at him. He shakes himself
a little. "You have the most amazing tits," Jason blurts out, and Kory looks
pleased.
"Thank you," she says sweetly.
"You're welcome," says Jason, and he's about to try for something a little more
suave, but now Kory's reaching for Tim and pulling him into a hug just like the
one she'd treated Jason to. Tim's eyes get huge and he stiffens right up,
flushing red.
Jason smirks at him. He can't really blame Tim - of course, Tim pretty much
reacts this way when anyone hugs him.
"And this is the new Robin!" says Kory. "Dick has had many nice things to say
about you," she adds as she releases him. "Both of you."
"It's - ah - nice to meet you, Miss Anders," says Tim.
Kory throws back her head and laughs, then pulls a startled Tim into another
hug as Jason looks on enviously. "Please, call me Kory, Tim!"
"Shouldn't...shouldn't you give the birthday boy his hug?" gasps Tim, and Kory
lets go of him and looks at Dick, her smile turning wicked.
"Oh, the birthdayboy gets something much better than a hug," she says, and
throws her arms around his neck and pulls him into a liplock right there.
Goddamn it, what is it about Grayson that makes everybody fall for him?
"Heh, hope I get the same treatment on my birthday," Jason says as an aside to
Tim, or starts to say, but when he turns he finds that Tim's backed up several
steps. Probably to get out of hugging range. The thought makes Jason feel a
tiny bit better. He glances at the couple - who've gone past kissing and are
starting in on the groping - and rolls his eyes. Turning to Tim, he says,
"C'mon, let's go see what's going on down by the pool."
It's twilight, but the patio's lit up with long strings of colored lights, and
the pool's lights are on, too.  When they get there Jason makes a beeline for
the refreshment table. It still feels weird to have food around all the time,
whenever he wants it. Alfred always seems pleased when he cleans his plate.
Jason doesn't have the heart to tell him that it wouldn't matter what Alfred
fed them - he could feed them Lima beans and Brussels sprouts every day, and
Jason would still choke them down.
Of course, when Alfred makes Brussels sprouts, they actually taste good. They
haven't had Lima beans yet, but Jason has a sneaking suspicion that he'll like
them, too, if Alfred is the one who makes them.
Picking up a plate, Jason starts filling it with little sandwiches and pizza
and pieces of fruit dipped in chocolate. He thinks about reaching for a beer,
but Alfred catches his eye, so he takes a glass of lemonade instead.  Looking
around, he spots Tim further up toward the house. Dick's got his arm wrapped
around him and seems to be introducing him to some tall, broad-shouldered guy
in glasses.
Well, fine then.
More people arrive while Jason is busy loading his plate.  Kory's talking to
some guy who's sitting in the pool, half-in, half-out of the water.  There's a
green octopus there, too, but no one else seems fazed by it, so Jason figures
he's invited.
Tim's pretty caught up in a conversation about something, so when Jason catches
sight of Roy at the other end of the patio, he heads in that direction. Some of
the people he's met tonight are pretty weird, but Roy seems like maybe he's
just a guy. He's definitely less creepy than the chick in the hood, and less
intimidating than the huge greenish guy with the red eyes hanging out by the
dessert table.
Roy is sprawled loosely across a deck lounge, tossing darts at a board someone
hung on the side of the house.  "Hey," he says as Jason approaches.
"Hey," says Jason, and sits down to eat.  They sit in companionable silence for
awhile, surrounded by the laughter and the music of the party, occasionally
punctuated by the *thunk* of another dart in the bulls-eye.
"I can't get over how quiet the new Robin is," says Roy after a few minutes. 
Jason looks up. Roy's shaking his head. "He's so serious."
"What's wrong with being serious?" asks Jason, feeling a little defensive on
Tim's behalf. It's true, yeah, but Jason likes him that way. It's just how Tim
is.
Roy sends his last dart into the board with another *thunk*.  "Nothing," he
said, getting up to gather the darts.  "He seems like a sharp kid.  He's just
not what I think of when I think of Robin, you know?"
Jason takes a swig of his lemonade.  "What do you think of?"
Roy shrugs, sitting back down again.  "I don't know.  Dick was always sort
of...flashy.  Laughing and showing off as he took down the bad guys."
Shaking his head, Jason says, "Tim's not like that at all."
"I can see that."
Talking about Tim makes Jason wonder where he's gotten to.  He looks around,
and Dick's got his arm around Tim's shoulders again - or is it still?  and
talking animatedly to some red-head chick in a wheelchair and a half-robot guy
Jason recognizes as Cyborg.
Jason's really getting tired of watching Grayson hang all over Tim, especially
after watching the 'birthday boy' make out with Kory a few minutes ago. Tim
wouldn't tolerate it from anyone else...it took months before Tim was
comfortable with Jason hugging him, and they've known Dick what, a few weeks?
Feeling frustrated, he looks back at the refreshment table. Apparently Alfred's
gone inside for supplies or something, so Jason gets up and casually walks over
to where the beer is sitting, cold and inviting. He reaches out to grab one by
the neck -
"Would you care for some more lemonade, Master Jason?" Alfred's voice comes
from directly behind him and Jason nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Shit!" he says before he can think, then winces. "Sorry. Uh, sure, Alfred.
That would be great. Thanks," he says quickly. The older man raises an eyebrow
and hands him a cup. Jason sighs and turns back to the party.
Well, at least it's good lemonade.
Tim's still talking to the wheelchair chick ....who's actually pretty hot.  He
looks like he's enjoying himself, his face slightly flushed as he makes small
gestures with his hands, probably trying to explain something.  Thankfully,
Dick seems to have wandered off somewhere.  Roy's been joined by Donna and
Kory, so Jason makes his way back over to them.
"Hey kid," says Roy when he gets there, and shoves something cold into his
hand. "Hold this for me, willya?" Jason blinks down at the beer and then back
up at Roy. Roy winks at him.
Oh, thinks Jason, and grins back. Roy's really not such a bad guy. Jason
glances around. Alfred is talking to a thin guy with red hair, who's looking at
him sheepishly. Jason turns his back on them and takes several swigs, draining
half the bottle before handing it back to Roy and sitting down next to Kory on
a bench
God, he needed that.
The sky is completely dark, now.  Kory's golden skin seems to gleam under the
soft lights, her eyes glowing faintly green in a way that really should be
weirder than it is.  She's laughing at something Roy said, her body shaking and
boobs quivering.  Jason sways toward her a little, grinning.  God, she's
gorgeous.
Tossing her hair back from her face, she leans forward - way closer than a girl
usually sits unless she's really interested. "Will you help me with something,
Jason?"
Jason's pretty sure he'd help her with anything she asked - probably up to and
including world conquest. Roy's making faces over her shoulder, laughing but
also shaking his head and waving his hands back and forth. Jason's got no idea
what the other man is trying to tell him though, so he just nods to Kory and
says, "yeah, of course."
"My friends - certain friends especially-" she turns and looks over her
shoulder but by then, Roy is gazing innocently off into the distance, "-
sometimes make little jokes at my expense. I do not always understand Earth
culture. I wish for independent corroboration of something Roy has just told
me."
"Sure," Jason says, and now at least he knows why Roy was trying to send him
some kind of signal. He seems to have given up, by now, and he's just bent over
his own knees, laughing silently and wiping tears from the corners of his eyes
while Donna looks on in amusement.
"Is it customary to subject a young man to sexualized corporal punishment on
his birthday?"
Jason blinks at her, his mouth open. He hasn't quite recovered from his
surprise when Roy's laughter cuts through the night air.
"Birthday spankings!" Roy gasps, and beside him, even Donna has dissolved into
giggles. "I was telling her about birthday spankings! She added the sex part
herself, I swear!"
Kory sits up straighter, her lush lips pressing into a pout. "Your tone
implied-"
Donna cuts her off. "His tone always implies." She opens her mouth to say
something else, but Roy leans over and bites her on one bare shoulder, making
her shriek with surprised laughter and kick him back into his own chair. 
"So," Kory says, ignoring her friends as they start to wrestle, "these
spankings are customary?"
Jason shrugs. "Sure, I guess. I mean, some people do it."
Kory sits back with a thoughtful look on her face. She turns and looks over her
shoulder toward the pool, and Jason does the same. Tim's not standing over by
the food anymore, and when Jason looks around, he doesn't see him anywhere.
Stop being such a girl, he tells himself irritably. It's not like he has to
know where Tim is all the time, or Tim has to know where he is. He's probably
just gone to the can, or something. Still, when Tim doesn't come back after a
few minutes, Jason starts to feel antsy.
"Excuse us," Roy says, and Jason looks up. Somehow he'd managed to get Donna
into his lap, but now they're standing. "Getting kind of late. Ought to find
Bruce and say goodnight."
"It was very nice to meet you," Donna says. She leans down and shakes his hand,
her grip strong and sure. When he lets go, she turns and heads for the patio
doors. Roy hands Jason his beer and follows behind her, looking pleased with
himself.
Jason scans the grounds again, but Tim's still nowhere to be seen. He catches
Dick's eye without meaning to and glances away, but not before Dick grins and
starts heading across the yard in their direction. Something occurs to Jason
just as Dick reaches the edge of the patio, and he turns to Kory. "You're
supposed to hit pretty hard," he says, quietly. "It's tradition."
"Thank you," she says, and favors him with a blinding smile.
"Don't mention it," Jason says. He drains the bottle in his hand and gets up to
go find Tim.
* 
Tim's never really thought of himself as being much for parties, but he's
actually been having a really good time so far. He'd been feeling really
awkward until Dick had apparently taken pity on him, shepherding him around and
acting as a buffer between Tim and the people he was meeting. He'd introduced
Tim to a few people he thought Tim would like.  Tim can't help but grin to
himself, thinking of all those afternoons he used to spend in the records room
of the library.  How fantastic was it that the whole time he'd been about ten
yards from Batgirl, and he'd never even known it?
Superman had turned out to be really nice - not that Tim had thought he'd be
terrible, but he'd been approachable in a way Tim hadn't expected at all. Jason
seems to be having a good time, too. Tim had worried a little when they'd sort
of gotten separated near the drinks, but Jason seems to have hit it off pretty
well with Arsenal, and that makes Tim happy. He's glad to see Jason making new
friends - especially friends who might make him more comfortable with the
superhero thing.
As for Tim, he's gotten himself caught up in a conversation about telepathy and
cybernetics that's lasted most of half an hour. The subject is interesting, and
between them, Garth and Stone have got some fascinating ideas - but his mind is
only half on it. Mostly he's watching Jason laughing with his new friends up by
the house, his mood, which had been riding rather high until just a moment ago,
suddenly takes a rapid nose dive.
He should be thrilled. If Jason finding something in common with Arsenal makes
him happy, then the fact Jason is carrying on a conversation with someone as
unusual as Starfire as though she's just another girl ought to make him
ecstatic. Only he's not talking to her like she's just another girl. Tim bites
his lip. 
It isn't that he hasn't seen Jason flirt before - Jason always flirted with the
girls in their building and on the street. He even flirted with Rosa,
sometimes, and that was why Tim had never thought anything of it. But the way
Jason's sitting now...the way he's staring, obviously and unabashedly at the
alien supermodel as she throws her head back and laughs unrestrainedly...
Starfire is a beautiful woman - very beautiful. It shouldn't be a surprise that
Jason wants to sit that near to her, to lean in close... Her breasts are
practically in his face, and Jason looks perfectly happy with that state of
affairs. He's really kind of leering, in fact, and it doesn't exactly seem like
Starfire objects. Rather the opposite, actually. She puts her hand on Jason's
arm and bends closer to say something, and...
The realization hits him like a bucket of cold water. Tim takes an involuntary
step back, stumbling on the raised tiling around the pool. Stone's still
talking, but Tim doesn't even hear him - he doesn't see the sudden flash of
concern on Garth's face. He mumbles something when Stone turns to him - some
kind of excuse for why he's turning and hurrying for the veranda doors.
He can't be around people, right now. God knows what his face looks like. He
can't stand there and watch Jason flirt with beautiful women, because the fact
that hit him, with furious certainty, as he stood there staring...
Jason likes girls.
Jason likes girls.
Tim feels vaguely ill. He starts down the hall for the stairs, but thinks
better of it - he doesn't think he can be in their room right now, not with the
ideas starting to click into place in his head. He ducks into the drawing room
instead and shuts the door behind himself, leaning against it, the dark wood
solid and reassuring.
Jason likes girls.
Tim's not an idiot. He knows that just because a person - a desperate person -
is willing to do something for money doesn't mean it's something they want. If
he'd ever thought that Jason was enjoying himself on the nights he disappeared
for hours and came home with money and food and a sick expression on his face -
well, there's a reason Tim had been so focused on getting Jason away from that
life. He should have known better than to make assumptions about Jason's
orientation based on events he'd been more-or-less forced into.
He'd kissed Tim first, Tim reminds himself - the night they'd robbed Joey
Marino and made enough to cover food and a room at the Motel 7 for a week.He'd
kissed Tim in his excitement and Tim had gone for it. And Jason had seemed to
enjoy it. To enjoy kissing Tim. Kissing is one thing, though. The rest...
He'd talked about his other partners - not the men who paid him, but friends,
other kids on the streets - talked about them like all he'd gotten out of the
encounters was an orgasm and a moment of connection. Tim had never thought to
ask if the friends in question had been male or female, and that seems like a
huge oversight, now. That would be very useful information, and might
potentially quell the feeling swelling in Tim's breast.
It's really hitting him now that Jason's almost never been the one to make the
first move. Every time they've touched each other, Tim's been the one to
initiate - to beg, usually. Beg until he overcomes Jason's reluctance, his
apprehensions... Tim swallows hard and stumbles to the nearest chair, folding
himself gracelessly into the seat. Jason barely even touches Tim now - in the
last two weeks, the little casual brushes and hair-touches that Tim didn't even
pay attention to anymore have just...dried up. During the day, Jason acts like
there's nothing between them at all. When they get back to their room, it's
always Tim who kisses him first - always Tim who pulls him to the bed.  
He suddenly remembers something Jason said, once. It had sounded like a joke,
but Jason's voice had been a little off...enough to make Tim protest, at the
time. Jason had said that with the amount of money Tim was bringing in... He'd
used the word bitch, and Tim had hated it - hated the implication, the
suggestion of obligation. He's never wanted Jason to feel like he owes him
anything, and especially not that.
But...two nights ago, he'd held Jason down. He'd pinned Jason's wrists to the
bed, because Tim had wanted to suck him off and Jason had protested. Jason had
kept protesting, and then he wouldn't even look at Tim, afterward.  He hasn't
touched Tim since - not even the casual, friendly touches that Tim never
thought he'd be so dependent on.
Tim brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He doesn't
want to believe it, but it explains so much - why Jason seems so reluctant, why
he's relatively comfortable with mutual masturbation but balks when Tim tries
to take things further, why he's barely made eye contact with Tim for two days.
If Jason's straight...
If Jason's straight...
The door opens a crack, and Tim jumps in surprise. For a moment, he thinks
maybe Jason has come looking for him, but the glow from the hall silhouettes
two figures in the doorway. Before Tim can decide what to do, the lights blaze
to life and he finds himself staring at Arsenal and Troia, who both look very
surprised to see him. Tim's eyes dart to their joined hands, then away.
"Hey, kid," Arsenal says. He probably thinks he's done a good job of hiding the
annoyance in his voice. "What are you doing sitting in here in the dark?"
Tim slides out of the chair and makes his way to the door, slipping past them
into the hall without saying a word.
If he opens his mouth, he doesn't know what will come out.
*
The halls and foyer are bright, but the parts of the house they actually live
in are mostly pretty dark. Jason can hear the noise of the party - music,
laughter, splashing from the pool - but it's distant and faint. He doesn't find
Tim in the first few places he looks, so he heads up to their room, thinking
that Tim's got a headache or something, or maybe Jason wasn't the only one
sneaking a beer or two. The bedroom's dark, too, though.
Well, Tim will come back here eventually. Jason's shoes are pinching his toes -
and Dick had totally lied, because Alfred had made him wear dress shoes to the
party despite his protests and half-hearted threats of harm to various
antiques.  He flips the lamp on and sits down to tug them off. It's kind of
late, and Jason's not exactly tired, but it's been a long day, and, heh, he
spent it on his best behavior. He'd met a few dozen superheroes, tonight, and
that had been kind of cool. And the girls had been hot. 
He pops a few buttons and flops backward across the end of the bed, stretching
and thinking about Donna's marble-pale skin, Kory's hard muscle hidden by
generous curves.  When Tim does come back, Jason kind of hopes he'll be in the
mood to start something.
He doesn't really get to...touch Tim anymore.  At first, around Bruce and
Alfred, he hadn't cared quite so much.  But ever since Dick said that
thing...about him molesting Tim...Jason hasn't wanted to even hug Tim when Dick
and the others are still around, passing fucking judgement, like they even
know.
He growls and shakes his head hard.  It doesn't matter.  This room is their
place, where Jason can touch Tim if he damn well wants to, with no one around
to watch or laugh or look disapprovingly at them. 
But...only safe touches.  Not anything that could...It has to be Tim's choice,
he reminds himself.  Always.  He's gotta let Tim take the lead.  Even then he
needs to be careful.  Because Tim might start something just because he thinks
he has to.
Like the other day, when he thought Jason had run out on him - and then that
night... Jason closes his eyes and shakes his head again, guilt welling in his
throat, choking him.  He doesn't want to think about that, think about how
amazing it felt, how sweet Tim's mouth had been on him...he rolls over with a
little groan, burying his face in the comforter, then freezes.
What the hell happened to their blanket?
They've never talked about it, just kept it folded at the end of their bed.  A
little piece of before.  Their blanket, the same one Tulio had used to play
ghost, the same one Rosa had carefully patched for them at Christmas. 
Jason looks to see if it slipped down to the floor when he flopped down on the
bed, then turns on the light and hunts around in the covers, but it's really
not there.  Fuck...Alfred didn't... didn't get rid of it or something, did he?
If he was going to, he would have already, right? He definitely wouldn't have
bothered washing it, and all... Jason looks under the bed, just in case, then
stops himself, feeling ridiculous.
The blanket is missing. Tim is missing. Probably, this isn't a coincidence. So
where is he? Jason stands up again and tries to think things through logically.
Sometimes, when it gets chilly at night, Tim likes to sit in front of the
fireplace with the blanket on his lap and read. It's not cold enough for a fire
or anything, but, hey, Tim's not always super social, right? So maybe he just
got tired of the party and came in to read somewhere, and took the blanket with
him.
The theory makes enough sense that Jason kicks his shoes under the bed and
heads down the hall for the library. There's no light visible underneath the
door, and when he peeks inside, the room is dark. He's about to give up and go
ask Alfred or something when his eyes are attracted by a slight movement, and
he realizes Tim is hanging out in here curled up in the blanket...in almost
total darkness.
"Hey," Jason says, when Tim just stays there, stock still, like maybe he thinks
Jason hasn't noticed him yet. "What are you doing in here?"
Tim's got his legs crossed on the sofa, most of his body hidden by the drape of
the blanket. He shrugs under it and pulls it tighter around himself. "I thought
I'd sleep in here, tonight."
"What?" says Jason, startled. "Why?"
Tim...isn't looking up. Something's wrong. "I thought you might like the room
to yourself."  His voice, his whole affect, is completely flat, like the
world's best poker face. Jason hates when he gets like this.
Jason shakes his head. "Why would I want that?" he says.
Tim sighs and turns his face to the glass doors leading out to the balcony.
They're open a crack, and Jason can hear a splash and a sudden shriek of
feminine laughter. "You looked like you were having a good time. You didn't
have to come in just because I did."
"Tim." Jason steps into the room, closing the door behind him, and stepping
forward to switch on a lamp. Tim flinches and seems to disappear even more
under the blanket, like he'd just pull it over his head if he could. If Jason
would let him. "What's wrong?" asks Jason, a little of his frustration creeping
into his voice. "Talk to me, Tim."
"Nothing's wrong," he says, his voice just as flat as before.
"Goddamn it, Tim." Jason squeezes his eyes shut and knocks his head back
against the door, just once. Then he opens them and crosses the room to where
Tim's sitting perfectly still and doing his best robot impression. "Tim," says
Jason, hating the pleading note in his voice and entirely unable to help it,
"Please. What did I do?"
Tim looks up at him suddenly, and maybe Jason would be happier to see the
facade crack if Tim didn't look so miserable underneath. He's keeping his face
still, but his eyes are wide and bright. "Nothing. Nothing. Jason, you haven't
done anything wrong. I -" he breaks off and swallows, turning his face away
again. "I just want to go to sleep, okay?" His voice is rough, now, and too
quiet. "Go back to the party. You were having a good time with Troia and
Starfire."
So that's it. Jason should have known. It's a nasty fucking double-standard,
too, because Dick was hanging all over Tim all night and Jason didn't say a
word, and now he's a bad guy because he couldn't ignore the enormous orange ta-
tas being shoved in his face. He combs a hand back through his hair and sighs.
"Look, I'm sorry. I was just flirting with them, okay? It didn't mean-"
Tim's shaking his head. "I'm not mad at you. Anyway, it's not like you made me
any promises, right?"
Well, no...they've never really talked about...whatever this is. But Jason's
been sleeping with his arm wrapped around Tim every night for almost half a
year, and he thinks that means something. "Obviously you are mad at me, or you
wouldn't be doing this," says Jason. This would be so much easier if Tim would
just shout at him. "I get it - you're pissed. You're jealous, right?"
Tim's laugh is hollow and bitter when it comes. "Jealous?" he says, finally
raising his voice a little. "I don't have any right to be jealous. You don't
owe me anything, Jason. Anything. You can. You can do whatever you want, okay?"
"Unless what I want is to get you to come to bed, apparently." A sudden thought
strikes Jason, making him back off. "Is this because...is this about...?" He
swallows, the other night vivid in his mind. He should have stopped him. He
shouldn't have let Tim make himself do that. He knew Tim would regret it later.
And now, when Tim's just trying to get some privacy, Jason's pushing him
again...fuck. "Tim," he says, "If you don't want to share a bed, it's fine. You
don't have to sleep in here. You take the bed. You know I'm used to bedding
down anywhere, anyway."
Tim shakes his head furiously and pulls himself out of his slump, letting his
feet fall to the floor so that he can sit up straight. "It's not - it doesn't
matter what I want, Jason. And you shouldn't say things like that! Just because
you used to have it rough, that doesn't mean things have to go on the same way,
okay? I'll be fine on the couch for a night, and in the morning I'll ask Alfred
which room I should move my things to-"
"Move your things to?" Jason bursts out before he can stop himself. It's like a
sucker punch to the gut. "You're moving out on me?" If Tim really doesn't want
him anymore...Jason shakes his head. "Don't bother," he says harshly. "You can
have the room." He has to swallow again, hard, before he can finish. "Without
you, I don't exactly have any reason to stick around."  
He turns toward the door, but before he can make it more than a step, Tim has
him by the arm, trying to turn him around. Jason twists and tugs to free
himself, but Tim counters with a quick grapple and goes for a leg-sweep that
Jason barely manages to avoid. He tries to shove Tim back, but Tim uses the
force of the move to spin him and tangle their legs together, taking them both
to the ground with a thud.
Jason bangs his head on the hard-wood floor and winces - he was too focused on
cushioning Tim's fall to protect his own vitals, and Tim's elbow hit him pretty
hard in the stomach on the way down. He's not sure whether the blow was
intentional. "Fuck!" he gasps when he can breathe again. "What was that for!"
Tim's sprawled across him, not even bothering to try and hold a pin. His
forehead is pressed to Jason's chest, and he's not supporting his own weight at
all - just lying on Jason with his hands tight to Jason's ribs. "I'm sorry," he
says, his voice quiet and oddly strained. "Jason. Jay. Don't go. Please. I'm
sorry. I'm sorry."
The fight goes out of Jason all at once, and he lets his head rest on the floor
and his hands come up to rest on Tim's back. It's too much like the other day,
when Tim had thought Jason was leaving for good, and it makes Jason's stomach
twist. "Hey," he says, but Tim's not done.
Tim's breathing is labored enough that Jason can hear it even over the pounding
of his own heart. "I didn't want it to go like this," he says, sounding close
to tears.
Jason sighs and looks up at the ceiling. "Nobody ever does." His eyes feel hot,
so he closes them. "What do you expect, though? That I'd be happy about it? I
mean-" he has to stop for a second and breathe because he feels something wet
run across his temple, into his hair. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. I know
this is all my fault." He feels Tim's weight shift, and some of it lifts. Maybe
Tim's going to get off of him and let him go now. Jason really kind of wishes
he wouldn't. If this is the last chance he's going to get to feel Tim against
him, he wants it to last. "I fucked up.  I fuck everything up."  He screws his
eyes shut tighter against the burning sensation in them.   
"Jason, no," Tim says, his voice stronger now. "Please. None of this is your
fault. I'm the one who-" he breaks off and his head drops again to rest on
Jason's chest. "You don't have to sleep with me to stay here. Bruce wants you
to work with him just as much as he wants me - maybe more. You're older, and
you're stronger. Even if you don't want to be Bluejay, he's not going to throw
you out, okay? He likes you. He already said he wants to adopt you."
Jason opens his eyes and frowns. "I never thought...Tim, the only reason I'm
here is because I wanted to be with you." Tim mumbles something against his
chest, and Jason pulls him up by the shoulders. "What?"
"But not to be with me," Tim says, his voice rough.  "I'm...I'll be okay with
that. You don't owe me anything, Jason, and I never wanted you to think you
did."
Jason shakes him. "How can you say that?" He rolls until he pitches Tim off of
him and sits up. "I wasn't anything before I met you. I owe you everything!"
Tim scrambles to his knees beside him, and now they're face to face again.
"That's not true!"
"It is. Jesus, Tim, I know you like to see the best in people, but I was just
some thug! I was a hustler!" He's never actually said it out loud, before. He's
not sure if he was expecting Tim to flinch...but he doesn't. He's still shaking
his head like nothing Jason's saying is true. "Yes!" he shouts. "I jacked
peoples' tires. I sucked dick for money. I did whatever I had to, to survive-"
"I know!" Tim shouts back, his voice rough with emotion. "I know, okay! But you
don't have to anymore!"
Jason's so startled by his outburst that he completely forgets what he was
going to say. He just sits there, staring stupidly at Tim's shining eyes, his
flushed face, listening to their panted breaths in the quiet room. The music
outside had been turned off, at some point, and Jason can't hear party noises
anymore. He doesn't care. "Tim," he says, quietly. "What are you talking
about?"
Tim flinches back and spins on his ass before standing, walking over to shut
the balcony doors. He stays there, leaning against the frame, not looking back
at Jason at all, and Jason has to strain to understand him because he's
speaking so quietly. "The sex," he says. "I've been an idiot. I didn't realize
until tonight, when I saw you with Starfire. It had never even occurred to me
that you might not be gay."
"I'm not," Jason says, feeling oddly defensive. "Are you?"
"Yes," Tim says, like it's nothing. "I thought you were, too. I guess...maybe I
was blinded by wishful thinking, but that's not exactly an excuse. There is no
excuse. All I can do is apologize."
"For what?" Jason asks as he gets to his feet. Tim must hear him moving because
he turns and leans back against the glass, finally looking Jason in the eye.
"I pushed you into things you weren't comfortable with, took advantage of..."
he stops. "I thought maybe I was just bad at it. That maybe that was why you
didn't ever seem to want to - why I always had to be the one to ask. I thought
maybe I'd get better, and you'd like it more. You shouldn't have let me,
Jason."
Jason stops a few feet from Tim. His eyes feel too wide for his face. "Are you
fucking serious?"
Tim bites his lip and looks away.
"You are. You think you - what? You think I didn't want to? That I didn't like
it when you sucked me off?"
"You've barely even looked at me for two days." Tim says softly. "You haven't
touched me. Last night you rolled over in your sleep and put your arm across my
chest, but the instant you woke up you were back on the edge of the bed-"
"You were laying there all stiff! I thought you were uncomfortable. Jesus,
Tim..." He steps closer, until he can pull Tim into his arms despite a degree
of half-hearted resistance. "I just don't want to push you. I don't know how
this stuff works, okay? This... being together thing. I'd never slept with
anybody more than once. Hell, I'd never even slept with somebody, after."
Tim struggles against his hold. "Don't, Jason. You just said you aren't gay-"
"That doesn't mean I don't love you!" That makes Tim go still and rigid in his
arms, and Jason curses himself for letting that kind of confession slip out
like that, but makes himself go on. "Or that I don't want you. People can go
both ways, you know. And I pretty much want you all the time.  Jesus, Tim, do
you know how much I've been holding back?"
Tim looks startled at that, and Jason thinks he might actually be getting
through to him.  "But...why-"
"Because I'm fucking scared, okay?  I'm fucked up!  I was younger than you when
I started, and it fucked me up!  And I don't want to fuck you up, too!"  His
arms tighten around Tim, pulling him hard against him.  "I'm supposed to
protect you, not...not..."  Not *molest* you, he thinks.  
"Not what?" Tim says, sounding incredulous. He struggles a little in Jason's
arms, and Jason instantly lets him go.  Tim pulls back and just looks at him,
his eyes bright and searching. After a moment, his gaze softens and he puts his
hands on either side of Jason's face.  "Jason...it's not the same." When Jason
tries to shake his head, Tim uses his palms to hold him still. "It's not.
You...meant it when you said you love me?"
"Of course I meant it!" Jason snaps, and tries to tug his head back, but Tim
won't let go.
"Then that makes it different. Because I love you too. So much." His voice
drops on the last few words, rough and quiet, and Jason can't even think of
fighting anymore. He lets Tim tug his head down until their foreheads are
pressed together.  Closes his eyes. "You don't have to protect me," Tim
continues. "From the rest of the world, sure, but not from you, Jay. We're
partners."   
"Partners," breathes Jason. 
Tim nods a little, his forehead sliding against Jason's. "I thought...I thought
you didn't want me. That you were only sleeping with me because you felt
obligated." Jason feels his mouth twist and he breathes out a laugh, but Tim
isn't done talking. "The only way you can hurt me is by holding back. Or
leaving, I guess, but -"
Jason wraps a hand around the back of Tim's neck and pulls him forward,
bringing their lips together and kissing him like he's trying to swallow Tim
whole.  He's not even really thinking, anymore - it's like Tim's words were a
trigger, slamming open something inside of him, and maybe he'll regret this
later, but right now, all he can do is kiss Tim and think, I'll *show* you.
Tim kisses back, gasping at first, and then making sounds...eager sounds, his
hands clutching Jason, pulling him closer. Jason puts everything he can into
the kiss - everything hes been holding back. Every moment spent watching,
wanting, every time he wanted to reach out and he didn't, every time he wanted
Tim moaning and turned away...
He slides his hands down Tim's sides, cups Tim's hips and tugs until Tim wraps
his legs around Jason's waist, and fuck that's hot.  Jason shoves him up
against the French doors, grinding against him as Tim makes a soft, high-
pitched sound of need against his lips. 
"Jason...Jason..."
"I always want you," growls Jason.  "Fuck, Tim!  I-"  He wraps his hands around
Tim's ass, supporting and squeezing.  Tim's shuddering against him helplessly,
his face flushed and his eyes closed.  His mouth is open, just a little, and
Jason flashes back to the moment Tim first kissed him through his underwear two
days ago.  "So fucking sexy," Jason pants.  "So fucking sweet." 
"N-not sweet," gasps Tim.  "Not-"
Jason slams him back against the doors as he thrusts.  "Sweet," he insists.  He
kisses Tim's neck, then bites it a little, sucks on it, and Tim melts against
him with a moan.  "So fucking sweet," says Jason again.  "Want to taste you."
That makes Tim's eyes fly open, hot and dazed.  "Anything," he whispers. 
"Anything you want, Jason. Jason."
"Fucking drive me crazy," says Jason, and he wants to let go of Tim's ass and
jerk him off, wants to lay him down right there on the floor and fuck him,
wants, wants.  But he can't stop thrusting against Tim's body, feeling Tim
quivering against him every time, with every word.  "Mine," Jason grits out.
"He can't have you.  Want you.  N-need you-"  Tim arches against him, a short,
sharp cry escaping his lips as his body shakes and spasms against Jason's. 
Jason feels his lips stretch into an almost feral grin.  "Not done with you
yet," he whispers into Tim's ear, nipping at the lobe. 
Tim just whimpers, his arms tightening around Jason's neck. He moans in
distress when Jason tries to pull back, gripping tighter with his long, lithe
legs, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the wooden transoms to hold himself up as
Jason steps back and away.  Jason sinks to his knees, letting Tim slide down
the doors until he comes to rest on Jason's lap.
Tim's legs relax their hold, and he pulls himself up to his knees with Jason's
shirt as leverage. He uses his grip to pull Jason up and forward until Jason is
kissing him again, loving the sounds he's making, the strength in his hands as
he strokes Jason's chest. "Gonna swallow you whole," Jason promises between
moans. "Take you so deep-"
"Jay!" Tim gasps, arching and thrusting against him. His head knocks against
the doors, and they rattle on their hinges. Jason bites his throat, over his
pulse, across the front, sucking and scraping with his teeth, leaving marks
behind.
He fumbles with the buttons on Tim's shirt, sending two of them flying in his
haste to get to skin. Tim's got gorgeous skin - pale and smooth, soft over lean
muscle and bone. Jason scrapes his teeth along the ridge of Tim's clavicle,
follows the rough touch with the sweep of his tongue. 
Tim doesn't build muscle as fast as Jason does, but he's definitely filled out
from the scrawny kid Jason met all those months ago in the arcade.  His pecs
are defined, now - Jason smooths his hands over them, loving the way they fit
against his palms.  Tim's nipples are small, hard nubs in the hollows of his
hands.  Jason shifts to flick his thumbs over them, grinning when it makes Tim
jerk and shiver against him.
"You like that?" Jason murmurs, and strokes over them with his palms. He hasn't
let his hands wander too much before now, hasn't let himself learn Tim's body
the way he's been aching to.
Tim makes a high, whining sound in the back of his throat and arches into the
touch. "Yes. God. Everything you do - I like everything."
Jason wants to kick himself for holding back for so long.  He leans forward and
tastes Tim, feels the point of Tim's nipple against his tongue.  Tim almost
always smells clean, now, like soap and the fancy shampoo they use.  But
underneath, there's a hint of him, of the musky smell that Jason still catches
a whiff of after a good spar with him sometimes. 
He laps at Tim's nipple again, making Tim twitch.  God, Tim's so
responsive...so hungry for this.  Desperate.  Why hadn't Jason seen it sooner? 
All Jason's doing is playing with his nipples, he hasn't even touched him below
the waist yet, and already Tim's hard again, thrusting against Jason's stomach,
coming apart for him, begging him.
Even as he thinks it, Tim's writhing, keening under his hands.  "Jay, please,"
he wails.
Jason's never been able to deny Tim when he's like this...he's beginning to
realize that it's taken everything he's had to hold back as long as he has. 
Now that he can touch...now that it's okay, he can't stop.  He leans backward,
pulling Tim on top of him, then rolls them over, pinning Tim's wrists to the
wooden floor as he nuzzles Tim's chest.  He sucks hard against Tim's
breastbone, trails his lips down in a straight line.  Tim's bellybutton is a
tempting target - Jason breathes into it, making Tim's stomach muscles flutter,
then noses at the thin line of hair trailing downward from there.  
"Oh god," Tim gasps, and his stomach spasms under Jason's touch. "Jay."  Jason
lets go of his wrists and pulls back enough to fumble at Tim's belt, his eager
fingers clumsy on the buckle. When he finally gets it, he opens Tim's pants and
pulls the zipper so roughly that it jumps the track before grabbing Tim's
waistband and tugging, yanking his pants and underwear down his thighs and over
his knees, turning them inside out as he goes. Tim sits up on his elbows and
tries to help, but Jason bats his hands away and pushes him back to the floor
with one hand in the middle of his chest.  Tim's eyes go wide...but he stays
where Jason puts him and doesn't object.
Tim's shoes present an obstacle to his progress, and Jason growls in
frustration before ripping them off, one at a time, and throwing them aside so
that finally - finally - he gets the stupid pants and underwear and everything
off.  Tim looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as Jason pauses a moment, just
staring down at Tim, really taking him in.
Tim's not a prettyboy like Grayson, not big and built like Roy or Jason
himself.  Tim is...compact.  Wiry.  Jason flashes back to the moment they met,
Tim's arm swinging down, connecting with that slimeball's head.  Small, but
dangerous. Brave. Tough.  Smart.
"Jay..." pleads Tim, and Jason grins down at him.  He kneels at Tim's feet,
pushing apart Tim's legs.  It's really late, now. There's no sound from
outside, and Jason can hear nothing but their harsh pants, loud in the quiet
room.  Leaning forward, Jason kisses the tip of Tim's penis. He looks up to
meet Tim's eyes and licks, swiping at the mess Tim has made of himself. Tim
stuffs a hand into his mouth.
In one smooth motion, Jason swallows him down.
Tim was right.  It is different.  Because it's Tim.  It's Tim, and Jason's
making him yell, even if Tim's trying to muffle the sounds with his hand. 
Jason lets his eyes fall half-closed, lets his tongue move and his throat
work.  Tim beats the floor with his free hand, his head whipping from side to
side, incoherent sounds pouring out of him around his fingers. 
Jason's making him lose it. 
And suddenly, Jason realizes...he loves it.  He loves making Tim lose it. 
Something falls into place in his mind with an almost audible 'click'.  Tim
hadn't been lying - he'd enjoyed sucking Jason off.  He'd loved every minute of
it.  A wave of relief crashes through Jason, so intense that it leaves him
feeling weak. 
He comes up for air, gasping, then goes down again, and Tim just keeps making
these sounds, driving Jason crazy.  He knows it's not gonna be much longer,
even though Tim's already come once.  Tim's cries get louder, higher, until
he's screaming.  His free hand sinks into Jason's hair, gripping, hanging on,
and Jason knows he can't help himself.  Tim...controlled, reserved, stoic Tim
who doesn't even let people touch him.  And he's letting Jason do this to him. 
Wants this from Jason, more than anything.
Tim tugs urgently at his hair, and Jason would laugh if his mouth wasn't full
of Tim's cock.  No way he's backing off now.  He pushes down as far as he can
go.  Tim goes rigid beneath him, the sounds he's making echoing against the
walls, and comes down Jason's throat. Jason swallows around him as he spasms,
and then pulls back just enough to catch the last taste in his mouth, holding
it, laving the head with his tongue until Tim is whimpering and pushing at his
face, too sensitive for any more.  
He sits back slowly onto his heels, letting Tim's cock slide from between his
lips with a wet pop. Tim is staring at him with his eyes wide and glassy, his
face flushed, his hair in total disarray, moonlight shining on his pale skin.
He's beautiful, and he's Jason's - he lovesJason. There's a sudden warmth in
Jason's chest that he hasn't felt since his mother died.  
Tim lets out a long breath and lets his head fall with a thud that sounds kind
of painful. Jason huffs a short laugh and leans over him, planting his hands on
either side of Tim's face and bending down to kiss him lightly on the lips.
Tim's eyes fly open again, and he smiles up at Jason, reaching up to pull him
down for another kiss, licking Jason's lips, his tongue, humming into Jason's
mouth with obvious contentment. His hands slide down Jason's neck, over his
back, rucking his shirt out of his pants and slipping under to get to his skin.
Jason drops to an elbow and reaches between them to get his own pants open.
He's having some trouble doing it one handed, though, and once Tim realizes
what he's doing, he pushes Jason's hands away to do it himself.
"That was really, really amazing, Jason," Tim says, his voice rough from
shouting. "And I sound like an idiot-"
"No," Jason protests, and kisses him again, then moans as Tim reaches into his
open fly to squeeze him through his briefs. "Jesus, I love your hands."
"Your mouth," Tim murmurs, with something that sounds remarkably like religious
awe. It makes Jason chuckle and lick Tim's mouth. He gets his tongue captured
and bitten for his trouble, and then Tim's pushing his pants down with one hand
and drawing Jason out with the other, jacking him with slow strokes that make
Jason moan and shiver. "I really like your penis, too. For the record." 
That makes Jason laugh again, but it turns into another moan as Tim squeezes
him. 
"I do!" Tim says defensively.  His grip tightens a little.  "You're not ever
allowed to hold back again," says Tim more quietly, his rhythm excruciatingly
slow but steady.  "Ever.  Promise me."
"I-" Jason cuts himself off with a gasp. 
Tim stops.
"I promise!" pants Jason. He tries to thrust into Tim's grip, but Tim moves
with him, not letting him get any friction. "Fuck, Tim, don't stop!"
Tim's smile is slow and wicked, but he tightens his grip and strokes again,
still slow, but tight, now, and Jason groans. "Jason?" Tim says, voice light,
almost sweet.
Jason sucks air in through his teeth and lets his head fall forward, turning it
to the side so that he's breathing on Tim's shoulder instead of in his face.
"Y-yeah?"
Tim turns his head until his lips are in Jason's hair, his breath tickling
Jason's forehead. "I want you to fuck my hand."
Jason makes a small, embarrassing noise and stops trying not to thrust, letting
his hips move like he wants - almost like he wants.
"Like you'd fuck me, Jason," Tim urges, his voice low and intense, almost
hypnotic.  Jason loses it, pumping mindlessly into Tim's slick fist. It's too
easy to imagine, with Tim's knees up around Jason's hips, his bare leg stroking
Jason's calf through his pants. He gasps and curses and bites Tim's shoulder,
because the alternative is shouting the house down. "Would you - oh, not now, I
want to make you come, now. But... would you? I want- I think I want..."
"God!" Jason gasps, thrusting down hard enough to press Tim's fist to his own
stomach, letting out a rough shout as pleasure surges through him. His orgasm
seems to last an eternity, fading into white sparks at the edge of his vision,
and then he's slumping forward, unable to hold up his own weight, falling
forward onto Tim's chest and driving the air out of both of their lungs.
He closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath, panting against Tim's throat
and feeling Tim's heart beat under him, his slim chest rise and fall. Tim's
hand comes to rest on the small of his back, tracing sticky circles above his
waistband. He cups Jason's head with his other hand and strokes into his hair,
dragging his blunt nails lightly over Jason's scalp. It feels good, and Jason
hums happily. He's pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life, right here.
"That was..." Tim starts, and trails off. He strokes the back of Jason's neck.
"God. Jay. I should really, really be mad at you right now."
The prior lassitude in his limbs makes it feel strange, but Jason tenses all
the same, feeling his heart creep into his throat. Had he been wrong, somehow?
Tim had said-
"Stop." Tim says flatly. "I didn't mean it like that." He sighs. "I should be
mad because we could have been having sex like that this whole time."
Jason relaxes again, and the relief in his chest bubbles out as a quiet laugh.
"That much better?"
"By orders of magnitude. Jason, I can't move."
Jason laughs again, but he agrees on all points. Sex is, apparently, infinitely
better when you're not hating yourself through most of it. Jason doesn't feel
inclined to move much, either. His bones feel like jelly and his feet and
fingers are still tingling. He nuzzles against Tim's neck and breathes
deliberately over one of the marks he'd left, just to feel Tim squirm under
him. "You were going to sleep in here, anyway."
"Not on the floor."
Jason rolls to the side and reaches out, fumbling at end of the couch until he
finds the edge of their blanket. He rolls back, stretching out beside Tim
instead of on top of him, and drags the blanket up over them. "We've slept in
worse places."
Tim stares at him like he's insane for a moment, then his lips quirk into a
smile. "True," he concedes. Then, "You do realize Alfred is probably going to
find us in the morning?"
Jason doesn't even care enough to pull his pants up.
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