Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6624808.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU, DCU_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Tim_Drake/Midnighter
  Character:
      Tim_Drake, Midnighter, Bruce_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Identity_Porn, Masturbation,
      Sexual_Tension, Suit_Porn, Blow_Jobs, Semi-Public_Sex, Rimming, Anal_Sex,
      Riding, Porn_With_Plot, I_swear_the_plot_is_important, I_Don't_Even_Know,
      Tim_is_17, Midnighter_is_fucked
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-22 Words: 7362
****** some say you're trouble, boy ******
by billy_crash
Summary
     "I don't need a fucking bodyguard," Tim says.
     "I am sorry," Bruce smiles tensely, and Lucas can see from his body
     language that he'd rather be in some expensive club, sticking his
     fingers in some willing and needy lady, than giving his adopted son a
     lecture about safety on this Friday night. "Do I look like I am
     asking for your opinion?"
Notes
     this was written for this prompt:
     "26. Sitting on the same bench in a park"
     everything goes down somewhere in New52, I guess, Tim is still Robin,
     and Midnighter (I went with his made up name in this one) is just
     your regular guy who still can kick asses and do it fine
"I don't need a fucking bodyguard," Tim says, drowning further in the armchair
big enough to fit three of him.
"I am sorry," Bruce smiles tensely, and Lucas can see from his body language
that he'd rather be in some expensive club, sticking his fingers in some
willing and needy lady, than giving his adopted son a lecture about safety on
this Friday night. "Do I look like I am asking for your opinion?"
"It is probably just some bullshit again," Tim says, sounding annoyed.
"I have enough boys dead on me already," Bruce snaps. "If Lucius says you might
be in danger, then you are sucking it up and spend no damn second without..."
"M," Lucas reminds him, feeling amused enough with his new job already.
Bruce shoots him irritated look for interrupting.
"Without this who-fucking-cares following your every step," Bruce continues,
earning a giggle from Tim. "Are we clear?"
"Yeah, boss," Tim huffs and gives Lucas a sharp smile, really noticing him for
the first time since he entered the room.
"Great," Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then turns to Lucas.
"If he dies, I'll bury you alive."
And from what Lucas knows about spoiled rich people with enough power and
money, he has no reason to doubt it.
***
Tim is every beat of what they write about him in newspapers and more, even.
"So," he asks on the first day, crossing his arms. "Are you going to watch me
shit or do I get a little privacy with that, at least?"
Lucas laughs to Tim's obvious surprise and grins sharply.
"What do you know," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I applied for this job
just to watch you shit."
"Ew," Tim scrunches his nose. "Go fucking sit in that chair. If I see you near
the door, I will cut you. Fuck. And you actually consider it funny. Asshole."
Lucas puts his palms up in piece offer and backs off to the chair. But as soon
as he hears the door being shut, he charges downstairs, through the bunch of
long halls and outside, then. When he passes the corner of the house, he is
there just in time to drag Tim down by his ankle hanging in the air, while he
tries to climb down the wall.
"Ou- fucking, what the?" Tim hisses, rubbing his back where it hit the ground.
Lucas sits near him, still smiling, warningly this time.
"Not my first spoiled smartass fucker," he says and helps Tim up, brushing the
dirt and grass from his black crop-top and too tight for anyone's good black
pants. "Going somewhere?"
"Club," Tim says, batting his hands away. When he looks back at Lucas, there is
strange challenge in his eyes.
"Okay," Lucas says and takes phone from his pocket, dialing their driver.
Tim narrows his eyes, but says nothing, until Lucas tells the name of the club
to the driver.
"That's not the one I was going to," Tim says, hands crossed on his chest.
"Yeah, well any other club in Gotham except this one is shit, and I have my
standards," Lucas answers and goes to the gates, not looking if Tim is
following him or not.
"Fine," Tim huffs not so long after, and Lucas hears his steps behind him.
***
Tim looks like he is expecting Lucas to stand near him all night long and scare
off every poor soul that tries to dance with him.
Lucas actually laughs at Tim's confused look when he waves him off to have fun
and maybe a drink.
The music is good and the alcohol is fucking great, even if Lucas only tries it
to flirt with a hot tattooed bartender.
He finds the first pretty guy on the dance floor, locking his hands around his
hips and giving in to the loud beats, crawling under his skin and pounding loud
under his ribs. Lucas treats dancing like sex, and he is pretty sure the guy he
is dancing with comes in his pants like some highschooler at least twice until
Lucas gets bored with him and moves to another.
Tim notices him only an hour later, too caught up in his mind until then. Tim
notices that wherever he goes and wherever he is dancing, Lucas is right there,
few steps behind him, not letting out even for a bit that they are connected
somehow.
And if they end up dancing together, Lucas's hands gripping his hips at first
and clawing at Tim's bare stomach then, grinding against him to the slow and
wicked rhythm of music - Tim does not look too surprised about it anymore.
***
Lucas stands in the respectable distance from Tim the next day, waiting for
their ride home. Tim is sitting on the fence, surrounded by loud as hell
teenagers. Lucas waits, until they all leave, before coming to stand beside
Tim, who takes a cigarette from an almost empty pack and searches his pockets
for the lighter.
"I don't like your friends," Lucas says after a while, taking a cigarette from
Tim's hand. Tim makes a face at him, but lets him, and that is as much of a
permission he is going to get. Not that he really needs one.
"Well," Tim says, watching Lucas as he takes a long drag and exhales smoke in
the cold air. "Good thing I don't give a crap whether you like them or not."
"Not gonna admit they make you sick just as well, huh?" Lucas smirks, passing
cigarette back to Tim. Tim grins wickedly, hollows his cheeks as he breathes
the smoke in. He lets it out of his mouth in perfect little circles just for
the sake of showing off, his boot sliding up Lucas's leg, stopping at his
thigh.
"Mhm," Tim hums before taking another drag. He bumps his foot once before
leaning back and spreading his legs a little. "Are you done for the day?"
His shirt lifts up, and Lucas can see dark bruises on Tim's navel he left there
the night before.
"Yeah," Lucas says, dragging his fingers along the pale skin to claw in Tim's
hips after and lift him up with ease and put him on the ground. "Driver is
here."
"Huh," Tim says, tilting his head to the side and looking at Lucas with barely
visible amusement.
Lucas fixes Tim's uniform, ruffles his hair just to see Tim pouting at him and
puts a gum in his mouth.
***
Tim lays sprawled on his belly, his legs in the air and knees spread.
"Do you have a bike?" Tim asks, turning his head from some glamorous magazine
he was reading to look at Lucas.
Lucas shifts in the chair, putting Tim's math assignment back on the table.
"Why?" he asks, and Tim rolls on his side, thighs clenched together and rubbing
against each other in a slight and almost unnoticeable motion.
"Bet you wanna me to ride it," Tim smirks.
"Bet you could not handle it," Lucas huffs, standing up and packing Tim's
things for tomorrow. He turns his back on Tim, who takes it as an invitation.
Lucas can't see him, but the way Tim's breath is catching up his throat leaves
no room for imagination.
"Not your job," Tim murmurs, quiet muffled whine escaping his mouth not so long
after.
"Nah," Lucas agrees and turns back to him, holding Tim's bag. Tim has one hand
down his sweatpants and another in his mouth, three fingers clawing at his
lower lip as he bites at them with every slow roll of his hips. His eyes go
shut when Lucas reaches his bed and puts his bag at the end of it. "Your
homework is all good."
Tim blinks and looks at him, his eyes hazy already. Lucas brushes his bare
ankle, squeezing it and moving his hand higher, up to his knee. He can feel
Tim's muscles tensing as he rolls his hips forward harder this time, and if
Lucas has not known him better, he'd take it for desperation.
"Touch me," Tim says, in a voice that is made for giving orders, but Lucas just
hums, sliding his fingers down again and taking a step back from the bed.
"Your school is dumb," Lucas says, meaning the shit ass excuse for assignments
he checked on; apparently, if your kid is rich, he should be getting the lamest
education for the sake of never asking his parents all the right questions.
"You could do better."
"Hn," Tim answers, arching his back and coming.
Lucas passes him a towel and sits back in a chair. Tim takes the magazine
again, flipping through it's pages as if nothing has happened.
***
Tim is sitting on the bench, legs crossed, and sucking on a bright red candy,
while Lucas tries his hardest not to die with a huge and ugly guy sitting on
his back and choking him with his thick and greasy fingers.
It is close to midnight, other two thugs are lying around, knocked off, their
blood and spit covering his knuckles. The third one was knocked off too, but
they make them that huge for a reason, apparently.
Lucas urges himself forward rapidly to make the guy's grip on his throat relax
a little then kicks him with his elbow, rolling to his side and using the
motion to throw the guy off him to the ground. And he might be big and strong
as fuck, but Lucas is faster, and he was taught not to fight, but to kill, even
if he'd have to rip someone's throat with his teeth to get where he needs to.
So Lucas gives him no time to get up, charges forward, ignoring the burning
pain in his neck and dizziness in his head. He kicks the air out of the guys
lungs with a hit to his ribcage and then to his throat.
Lucas stumbles up to his legs then, kicking the fuck out of the assholes ear
with his toe, cracks his nose and dislocates his jaw with the next harsh blows.
"Huh," Lucas says when he is done making guy's face in a bloody piece of meat
and the rage, pounding in his head, calms down a little. "These guys were
good."
This is the first real action he's got in weeks working for Waynes, so now his
brain starts searching for the person who might be responsible for this
assault, until.
Until Tim laughs, patting the spot on the bench beside him, and Lucas looks at
him in confusion.
"I know," Tim says, licking at the top of what is left of his candy and then
shoving it in his mouth and under his cheek. "I hiwed wem."
Lucas proceeds to the bench, his fists clenching for some reason and sits down
beside Tim, who gives him a funny look from under his lashes.
"What?" Tim asks, taking candy from his mouth and putting it away after a few
moments of silence. "You angry?"
"And you are batshit crazy," Lucas huffs, wiping the blood of his hands off his
jeans to busy himself with something, anything. "Also, water is wet and there
is crime in Gotham."
"You are," Tim sounds surprised, but more so - excited. Lucas feels Tim's
fingers on his knee and Tim's warm breath near his ear, his whole body
shivering against his will when Tim starts talking again. "Don't be ridiculous,
M. Now I know how good you are, too."
The next thing he knows, Tim crawls on his lap, hugging his thighs with his
legs and gripping at his shoulders.
"You are not my fucking nanny," Tim says wholeheartedly, leaning closer. There
is anger in his eyes that burns it's way through Lucas's still wired up on
adrenaline brain.
Tim's lips are sticky from the candy when he mouths at his neck, rolling his
hips slightly.
They are in the fucking park in the middle of the night, there are three
unconscious bodies lying beside them on the ground, and the moon is shining so
bright Lucas can see just how red and swollen Tim's mouth looks when he lifts
his head up from his throat, eyes wide and black and insane completely.
"I loved the way you fight," Tim admits, and Lucas puts his hands on his hip
and lower back, Tim arching closer to the touch and shutting his eyes close,
small whimper leaving his mouth as Lucas tugs him forward.
"No way," Lucas says, squeezing his hips and laughing when Tim humps against
his thigh, looking really offended at the same time.
"Why won't you fuck me already?" Tim asks with the same displeased frown,
digging his nails in his shoulders.
"Then you won't have such fun fucking with me," Lucas shrugs, but lets Tim use
his body for friction, his hands guiding every little motion of Tim's hips,
bites his neck just above his collar, when he feels Tim trembling under his
touch and his breath hitching, meaning he is close.
Tim makes the sweetest broken sound when he comes, his fingers clenching around
his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, and that almost sends Lucas over
the edge too. Almost.
Tim catches his breath and looks at him unreadably for some really long
moments, before he reaches for Lucas's belt, unfastening it. Lucas bats his
hand away, not paying attention to the insulted look in Tim's eyes.
"We need to get out of here. And you need a change of clothes," he says,
lifting Tim up and placing him on the bench, while he gets on his feet again.
Tim huffs, crossing his arms.
"And who is fucking with whom, again?"
Lucas smiles at him sweetly, not even trying to make it look real.
"Do I need to carry you to the car?" he asks, standing in front of Tim.
Tim flips him off, jumping from the bench.
***
"You do this to every spoiled smartass?" Tim asks him lazily, his head on
Lucas's knees. He looks up at him for this question, and that is a view to kill
for, really.
"Maybe," Lucas answers, his fingers tangling in Tim's hair. Tim lets him for a
few moments, before shaking his hands off.
The TV is on, some dumb cooking show playing, the show Tim pretends to be
watching. The way he sucks on his lower lip supposes to mean he is thinking
hard about something said by stupid white trash guy who thinks lasagna is a sex
pose. And the way he shifts closer to Lucas's groin - totally unintentional,
too, one can't lie without moving for long anyway.
When Tim turns his head a little, eyes glued to screen and mouths at his thigh,
getting the fabric wet and warm, pretending to be yawning for a really long
time - well, there is only so much patience a man can have.
"I don't get you," Lucas says, shoving Tim away not even trying to be gentle.
"Is it because I won't let you?"
"What," Tim rolls his eyes, getting comfortable on the couch and bringing his
finger to his lower lip sheepishly, before shoving it in his mouth deep enough
so he can bite his knuckle and drag it back with an audible pop. "What are you
even talking about?"
Lucas thinks about dragging Tim to the floor and fucking his face stupid until
his jaw is aching and he can't talk crap for a couple of days. Lucas thinks
about it longer then he should.
"Change a channel," he says, looking away from Tim. "If I hear this fucker open
his mouth one more time, I might crash your TV in the wall and go kill
somebody."
"I'll buy a new one," Tim muses, but takes the remote and switches to some
criminal drama with a wide-eyed main heroine who has about two emotions on her
face, but that's kind of okay, anyway.
Tim giggles quietly and settles his head back on Lucas's lap.
***
There is that one time when a guy in a club decides it would be pretty cool to
put his hands in Tim's pants even if Tim does not share his enthusiasm much.
Lucas beats the guy in the alley until he is satisfied with the way you can't
see where the fucker's lips start because of the blood covering his face. Also
he is more than sure that this guy is bound to eat through straps for at least
a month, so.
Tim does not interfere, just stands there, leaning on the wall, not jerking
away even when Lucas drags the guy's face along dirty bricks and nearly shoves
him in Tim.
Something flicks in his eyes when Lucas drops the guy to the ground, and Tim
does not look like Tim for a few brief seconds. Lucas has no time to figure it
out, because Tim kicks him in the shoulder, making him bump in the wall.
Tim drags his head down, tugging at his hair harshly, and bites his lips with a
fierce that surprises Lucas enough to let Tim slid his tongue inside of his
mouth and kiss him messily. There is spit on his chin when he backs off and
wipes it with the back of his hand.
Lucas should say something.
He does not.
***
There is that one time when they have dinner in some fancy restaurant and Lucas
sits there and takes all the olives out of Tim's salad because Tim is allergic
and Lucas does not feel ridiculous because of it.
And there is that one time when they wander the streets half of the night
because they've been kicked off the last club in Gotham and Tim falls asleep on
his shoulder, so Lucas has to carry him to the car when the driver comes to
pick them.
There are also these times when Tim drags him to mall and tries to fuck him in
every dressing room he visits (Lucas considers himself a saint by this moment,
really), and when they have to sit through board meetings in Wayne Enterprises
and Tim is bored enough to stroke Lucas's leg with his boot under the table,
almost touching his groin but missing it intentionally. When Tim is reading
books on the couch and Lucas knows better than to try and drag him to the bed
even if it is long past midnight. Lucas knows how Tim likes his coffee, his
favorite brand of cigarettes (and his second favorite too), when he needs to
skip classes and when he so fucking does not. Lucas knows how Tim looks, when
he is coming, even if he is not really touching him in that matter.
There is that time when Tim is asleep and Lucas is not, and he looks at his
face and suddenly thinks - fuck.
Fuck.
***
"Well, maybe your intel was fucking wrong," Lucas swears and covers his eyes
with a palm, trying really hard not to tune off all the bullshit he hears from
the other side of phone. "Yeas, I am fucking sure. What the fuck. Who do you
think I am, some dumbass sucker? Oh, god, fine, I'll do it, just get off my
back, fuck."
He hangs off, turning furiously just to face Tim, who looks at him with
curiosity in his eyes, his head tilted to his shoulder, which makes him look
like a damn cat or something.
"What was that about?" Tim asks.
"Family stuff," Lucas explains, irritated still. "Sorry, did not mean for you
to hear this bullshit."
"I don't mind," Tim shrugs. "You look hot when you are angry."
Lucas watches him bending over to retie laces on his boots. And, well - fuck
it.
It has gone too far already.
***
"Where are we going?" Tim asks, not recognizing streets they are passing.
"My place," Lucas answers. "Need to grab some of my things."
Tim seems satisfied enough to keep silent until they stop outside one of the
shittiest buildings in the crapy enough already neighborhood.
"My, what a dirty house you have here, granny," Tim singsongs, following Lucas
up to his floor.
The door is shut, but the key is not in the place he had it hidden, so Lucas
just shoves at the door with his shoulder hard enough to open it. Tim huffs
behind his back, sneaking glances inside and frowning when he gets into the
small and dusty living room.
"Your place is shit," Tim says accusingly for whatever reason.
"Well, it is not as if you are paying me enough to afford some fucking
mansion," Lucas answers, feeling more tensed than he probably should. "Stay the
fuck here while I check kitchen for roaches and don't touch anything."
When he comes back, Tim is obviously in his bedroom already, going through his
stash of flavored condoms. He does not look even a little bothered by the fact
that the whole fucking wall in front of the bed is covered in photos of Batman
and Robin, newspaper cuts and some other shit in Lucas's handwriting.
Lucas is fucking impressed at this point.
"Wanna try this one," Tim says, lifting a pink one (raspberry flavored,
probably). And then he stands up and smiles at Lucas. "Stay here, I'll be back
in ten minutes."
Lucas has no idea why, but he does not follow Tim. He just sits on his bed and
looks at the wall, feeling exhausted and frustrated, and maybe empty just a
little.
***
Tim comes back, to his surprise, with a bag in his hand that has some sex shop
logo on it. He disappears in the bathroom for a while, leaving it with his nose
scrunched and a slight disgusted look on his face (maybe a giant hole in the
wall where the shower is has something to do with it), but Lucas honestly could
not care less, because.
"Personally I enjoyed this design more," Tim says, standing in front of Lucas,
fingers tugging at green fabric stretched around his hips. "I mean, just
imagine how easy it would be for Batman to fuck him in those obscene shorts."
"What the fuck?" Lucas asks, eyes travelling up and down Tim's body wrapped in
a very bad copy of Robin's original costume. His chest is bare, yellow laces
connecting two pieces of fabric which is probably supposed to look like Robin's
tunic. And his fucking legs, thighs pale and smooth, are asking for someone -
anyone - to rip their teeth in a soft and welcoming flesh until they are
completely and utterly damaged. Lucas can't fucking get it. "What the fuck is
wrong with you?"
Tim laughs at him, turning around and climbing on the bed, little yellow cowl
hanging on his shoulders and doing damn bad job to cover his ass, which is.
Well. Like Lucas needs some fucking reminding just how bad he wants to get his
hands on it.
"Relax, M," Tim says, falling on his back and spreading his legs wide enough
for Lucas to make out the shape of his half hard cock hidden in those fucking
panties. "You are in Gotham. Everyone in Gotham have some Bat-related fetish,
so. No judging here."
"Fetish," Lucas repeats after him slowly, and something snaps in him, when Tim
puts a small black mask on his head, looking extremely satisfied with himself.
"You are fucking insane."
"Like you are the healthiest person in this damn city," Tim bites back,
sounding insulted, but that expression fades a little, when Lucas drags him
closer by his ankle, not caring if that will leave bruises (it probably will).
"Fuck if I am," Lucas says and lifts Tim leg on his shoulder, mouthing at the
pale skin and biting down to his knee with that much of a greed and hunger he
should have known was there.
"If you stop," Tim says, sprawled on his back before him, and something dark
and serious in his eyes that goes right to Lucas's nerves. "You will fucking
regret it."
"Sweetheart," Lucas breathes out, dropping Tim's leg and crawling between his
thighs to lean forward and whisper in his ear. "If your damn dad was standing
here with a gun to my head I'd still fucked you and asked him to wait for his
fucking turn."
Tim shivers and tugs his face closer, clawing in his chin.
"Take this stupid mask off," Lucas asks, their foreheads touching by now. He
can see the way Tim's eyes widen at this, and Lucas himself can't tell for what
he is asking, exactly. But Tim reaches for the mask and drags it up, throwing
it away, and then his legs are locking around Lucas's waist and he rolls his
hips impatiently.
Lucas laughs, cupping the back of Tim's head, tries not to think how fucking
small he feels like this and opens his mouth with his thumb before leaning in
and kissing him deep and dirty until Tim whines in his mouth and goes limp
under him.
"Still wanna try that," Tim says breathily, when they part for air. Lucas
follows direction of his eyes and smirks, seeing the fucking pink condom lying
just beside them.
"You got it, baby," Lucas answers and gets up to find a bottle of lube that is
not spent completely.
***
"You know," Tim says casually, his hand on Lucas's dick wrapped in bright pink
condom. "I was surprised you could even read at one point."
"I am flattered," Lucas answers, tugging at his hair when Tim licks at the head
of his cock with curiosity.
"You look dumb," Tim continues, his tongue sliding up his length now, eyes
shut. "Not my fault."
"Will you please just shut your pretty mouth already?" Lucas groans, his hand
pressing hard on Tim's head to make him just go down on him already.
Tim giggles, but lets him, sound of his laugh getting muffled when he bobs his
head, his lips wrapped tight around his cock when he lifts up again, looking up
at Lucas with his fucking innocent blue eyes and thick lashes, Jesus, life is
unfair.
"Rude," Tim says accusingly and sucks him down again almost immediately after,
fitting half of him at first try.
He looks so damn pretty like this, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched around
Lucas's huge cock, taking it good and deep, going further with every bob of his
head. Lucas thinks he can see fucking stars when Tim forces himself all the way
down, his throat clenching around his cock, before he needs to go back for air.
His chin is wet already with saliva, hints of tears in the corners of his eyes,
and then he licks his lips, almost purring over the taste of raspberry stuck at
them, like he has just eaten the most delicious candy in his life, and maybe he
fucking did.
"Turn around," Lucas breathes out, because he waited damn long already, but he
does not let Tim even try and follow his order, grabbing him and turning
around, making him stand on his knees and elbows, so he would face the wall
with pictures.
"Ru-ude," Tim murmurs again, but does not look displeased at all. "So, you
turned out to be dumb after all."
"Excuse me?" Lucas asks, tugging the edge of his panties to the side and biting
his asscheek, spreading them wide after that. Tim turns his head to look at him
over his shoulder like Lucas is fucking retarded.
"You really think Bruce could be Batman?" Tim asks, raising an eyebrow. Even in
this ridiculous suit and his ass in Lucas's hands he manages to look
intimidating. That's a talent. Lucas hums in his skin, gets his thumb wet with
spit and rubs it around Tim's hole, pushing in just a little to feel the
pressure of his muscles. Tim turns his head back, tilting it down. When he
starts talking again, he sounds angry. "Fucking Bruce. The only thing he is
capable of is wasting money and getting wasted. And fucking shit up for his
team to clean up after him."
"I traced money," Lucas explains, before licking at Tim's entrance slowly,
testing the waters. Tim tastes good and shivers when Lucas does that. "It goes
to Wayne Enterprises, so I just figured."
"Mhm," Tim drags out sarcastically, thrusting his hips at Lucas's mouth,
moaning lowly when Lucas finally fucks his tongue inside of him. "Bruce is not
capable of any of this shit. My guess is he just found some poor street fellow
and spent a fortune on his training just because he thought that a man in a bat
suit running around Gotham would be hilarious. Ah, god, just fuck me already."
Lucas huffs, pushing his thumb inside of Tim, spreading his spit on Tim's inner
walls, while he wipes his chin with other hand. He fucks him with his fingers
then, adding one at a time, with a generous amount of lube, until Tim is all
wet and open and begging, painfully hard under his panties. Lucas does not take
them off, just grabs Tim's hips, standing on his knees beside him, and shoves
his cock inside of him in one merciless motion.
"Oh, fuck," Tim gasps and tries to get Lucas deeper in him.
"Yeah," Lucas agrees, putting out and pushing in harder this time, gripping
Tim's shoulder. "Fuck your boss."
Tim makes a little noise, shaking when Lucas thrusts in him again.
"And fuck your school," Lucas continues, dragging Tim's hips back with him and
slamming into him so hard Tim almost falls on the bed face flat. "Fuck your
friends." Harder. "Fuck your books." Harder. "Fuck your posh attitude."
With the last one he holds tight Tim to his chest, like he is a doll, and
pounds into him fast and deep so many times he loses count.
"Come," he hears Tim's voice, out of breath and pleading already. "Just - fuck,
come inside, okay?"
And Lucas thinks about how it could have felt, spilling in Tim's tight ass and
sucking the come out of him then for so fucking long Tim would've begged him to
just fuck him with anything again.
"You are fucking devil," he groans, tugging Tim back on his cock by his silly
cowl, and Tim gasps, feeling out of air where the laces cut in his neck with
the motion, and maybe it is what does it for him.
Because Tim is coming hard and shaking, knees giving in, so Lucas grips him and
fucks him through this as rough and ruthless as he can manage, until he is
coming too, his cock pulsing inside of Tim, Tim's ass so fucking tight and
clenched around him, Lucas almost blacks out.
"Fucking condoms," Lucas manages when he pulls out and tosses it on the floor.
Tim says nothing, just rolls on his back and looks so blissfully fucked out of
whatever conversation they really should've been having right now.
Lucas lies beside him and shuts his eyes.
***
When he wakes up, Tim is gone, his Robin suit is on the floor and the room is
smelling of sex still - probably has some something to do with the come on his
sheets and Tim's green panties, but whatever.
There are some changes on his wall, too, and Lucas should be more surprised,
but he is in fact pretty much not. Pictures of him in his full Midnighter gear,
because somebody was stalking him while he was stalking good old Bat and Robin,
obviously. And a note pinned by batarang to the middle of the wall in Tim's
handwriting - "Always thought you'd look good in leather."
Lucas sits on his bed and looks at this mess for something like ten minutes,
rubbing at his eyes, before he starts laughing.
The kid has style, that is for sure.
When he feels he can stand up and try to act like a person, he starts searching
his flat for cameras, finding around ten and throwing it in the sink which is
full of dirty and smelling like shit water. There is a bug in his phone, of
course, not that he was not aware of it, but it still makes him grin so wide
his face starts hurting.
This is a warning, loud and clear, Tim must have like him at least a little if
he gave him one. Any normal person would have been packing their shit and
running to Mexico right now, but Lucas is kind of fucked up, so.
Nobody sane would ever mess with Batclan, but - sane? He fucked a boy dressed
as slutty Robin, so that title does not fit him a lot anyway.
He breaks the bug, cleans his apartment as much as he can and waits for the
night to come.
***
"You are either really stupid," Tim says, landing perfectly on the roof before
him. "Or straight out fucking dumb."
Lucas smiles at him sharply, hiding his hands in the pockets of his cowl.
Seeing Tim in his Robin suit, even if it is the perfectly civil one, does
things to him that are really going to get him killed tonight or what.
"Why a cold shoulder, darling?" Lucas asks, even though he knows the answer
pretty well. Tim still smiles for a brief second, going back to being all
collected and threatening then.
It is fucking hypnotizing to watch him like this - without any of his shit act,
even the slight twitch of his finger screaming just how deadly he really is.
This is Tim that Lucas only saw subtle hints of, Tim that makes him want to
drop to his knees right there and fucking worship him.
"How long have you known?" Tim suddenly asks, cocking his head to a side, and
the question takes Lucas by surprise.
"About?" He raises his eyebrow, though Tim won't see it anyway because of his
cowl.
"Cut the fucking crap, M," Tim bites at him, sounding seriously annoyed, and
then he leans on the wall, his arms crossed and eyes pining Lucas to the spot
he is standing on.
"Such a drama queen," Lucas rolls his eyes, but then continues without acting
up, trying to be as serious as he could ever get (which is not much, but
still). "From the first day, hon. No, actually, even before I met you
properly."
Tim blinks before frowning.
"What?"
"Jeez. Sweetie, I'll know your ass anywhere. And that sad excuse of a pretender
you used to run at nights with Bruce while we were partying our asses out?
Don't make me even comment on him," Lucas huffs, crossing his arms just as
well.
"Kon's ass is fine," Tim says before he can catch himself and shaking his head,
smile showing in the corners of his lips. "You fucker."
"Yeah, your boy is okay, but if you trying to fool somebody who has been in
real combat, you should find someone who at least tries to move like you,"
Lucas shrugs, counting Tim's smile as a little victory.
"But we listened to all your conversations with your boss," Tim says, looking
really confused. "You told him - repeatedly - that there is no fucking way
Bruce is Batman and I am Robin."
"Well, maybe I liked my new job better." Lucas says and looks Tim straight in
the eyes.
Tim just stands there in silence for maybe a minute. Then he launches himself
forward, closing the distance between him and Lucas in a few steps.
"Do you," Tim starts, narrowing his eyes and looking up to him, like he tries
to find something that gives him a reason to punch Lucas in a face and forget
that he ever existed. "Do you even understand how fucking lame and cheesy this
sounds?"
"Maybe," Lucas smiles. "But I am here, ain't I?"
"Unbelievable," Tim breathes out, sounding a little too exaggerated. "And you
called me batshit crazy."
"Mm," Lucas chews on his lower lip. "But babe, you kinda are."
"Shut the fuck up and follow me," Tim says, palming his face and shaking his
head.
Lucas is indeed stupid, so when Tim jumps to the next roof, Lucas does too.
What the even fuck, Lucas.
***
"So," Lucas says, shifting in a sit of fucking Batmobile. "What happens now?
Can I suck you off before you dump me in a cage or something?"
"No," Tim tells him firmly, but looks at him then, like he is considering the
offer, but shakes his head, repeating with more pressure now. "No. Please try
to be civil, for fucks sake. A cage? Who do you think we are, some cavemen?"
"Actually," Lucas grins, and Tim gives him a look that can make grown men shit
their pants.
"Shut up," Tim says, and Lucas laughs, turning to look through the window.
"So," he starts again after a few minutes. "You know I was supposed to kill
you, right?"
"Figured," Tim responds, rolling his eyes. "Jesus. I'd watch you try."
"I have my moves," Lucas shrugs. He does not recognize the area, probably some
super-secret path to the Cave. Which means he is gonna end up dead for knowing
it. Well, Bats don't kill, sure, but people can disappear.
"I am supposed to take you to Blackgate," Tim breaks the silence this time.
"Will you?" Lucas asks, starting to remember some friends that were doing their
time in that shithole, just in case.
"I might have," Tim hums, but smirks soon. "Bit you would've enjoyed it there
too much, so what the point."
"Asshole," Lucas does not even try to mean it as a bad thing - and honestly, he
is not sure anything can pass as a bad thing when it comes to Tim. "Arkham,
then?"
"What? God, no, you are too dumb for Arkham," Tim huffs.
"But I am crazy enough, aye?" Lucas says, waving his hands around going for an
alien octopus look. Tim gives him an unimpressed look over, but his eyes are
surely smiling.
"You are insane just fine," Tim says. "But no."
"I can be your personal fucked up archenemy, if you wanna," Lucas suggests with
a grin, and then they are driving in a fucking waterfall, through it, actually,
and why is he even surprised.
"I'll pass," Tim deadpans.
"We still can fuck in a Batcar," Lucas says when they enter the Cave and Tim
stops the car. He thinks Tim will flip him off again, but he just tilts his
head to the side and smirks:
"Later."
Lucas bumps his head in the sit hard, before climbing outside.
***
"How about a chair? Chair is great, Batman probably really likes it. He won't
mind if we make it a little dirty, right?" Lucas is babbling, but he can't shut
up when he is nervous, and he is hella nervous now. Not because of some
punishment that will certainly follow, but because he can't figure out what Tim
wants and that messes with his hand.
"Bet you'd want me to ride you on a giant robo dino we have over there," Tim
answers and when he sees his eyes light up at that, he pokes a finger in
Lucas's chest, passing by him to a long and not safe looking staircase, fading
to the darkness. "Don't you dare answer this, you moron."
"I'd settle on a bike," Lucas sighs, because giant dino? You can't say things
like this and back off, you just can't.
"Yeah, well, been there," Tim says because he is a bastard, but at least he
does not say he did not enjoy it. Cause Lucas knows he did. He has dirty green
panties to prove his point. "We are not fucking in the Cave, for god's sake. We
are going to Bruce's study, we talk and then maybe we fuck."
Lucas bites back his respond and just follows Tim upstairs.
"A clock," he says, when they are up in the mansion. "Your secret enter to the
Cave is a clock."
"So?" Tim asks, not turning to face him, but Lucas knows the fucker enjoys
every second of it. He was probably dying to show off all the cool stuff they
have in there.
"You people are ridiculous," Lucas says, but Tim just shrugs, leading the way
through the halls.
***
Tim is sitting on his dick about five minutes after they entered the study. Not
exactly the definition of talking, but Lucas really is not complaining.
"If this is my sentence," he murmurs in Tim's shoulder, guiding him down on his
cock with his hands. "I must have done something right in my past life."
"You wish," Tim answers, rolling his hips in the most obscene motion Lucas has
ever experienced, and he is the walking definition of menwhore, so that says
something.
"Just let me get this straight," Lucas pauses dramatically, and Tim laughs in
his ear, clenching around his cock. "Your plan was to play a train wreck with
me and wait until I back off?"
"Pretty much yeah," Tim agrees, pushing himself up and then down again, back
curving in a sweetest line ever, while he fucks himself on Lucas's dick harder
and faster with each moment.
"Was giving me blue balls an order from the daddy too?" Lucas can't help but
ask, and Tim shivers and clenches around him at this - and fuck. What is with
all this sidekicks and their daddy issues?
"Nah," Tim breathes out finally, then stops almost completely, and - oh, there
is a light blush on his cheeks, now of all the times. "I don't do this usually.
I mean. Fuck."
"Hush," Lucas says, because he has to say something, and he is too struck right
now for it to be anything coherent. "And wrap your pretty legs around me, cause
I gonna fuck you on your boss's table. Maybe even break it."
Tim whines when Lucas lifts him up and puts him on the table in front of them,
thrusting in him hard, keeps doing it, until every single sound leaving Tim's
mouth is broken whine and his eyes are wet, his pretty cock leaking on his
belly, and then he fucking comes without touching himself.
Lucas thinks he might die right there. And he does break the damn table.
***
"Work with us," Tim offers him, when they are all cleaned up and back in the
Cave, Tim sitting in front of a computers and sorting the information Lucas
gave him about his hirer, and Lucas is messing around with batarangs Tim gave
him so he'd stop trying to blow him while he is working.
"Not exactly a hero material," Lucas says, and he really should filter things
that leave his mouth, but he does not regret his next words anyway. "But I'll
stick around."
"Okay," Tim says and goes back to his work.
It's long past midnight when a black bike enters the Cave with Batman on it.
Lucas looks at him and he gets why folks are so terrified of this fellow at the
moment, he really does.
"So?" Batman asks Tim, loses his gauntlets and cowl, tossing them on the floor.
"He's good," Tim answers, not even looking at him. "And your table is broken."
Lucas expects Bruce to yell or beat the crap out of him or maybe set him on
fire. He does not expect Bruce to say.
"Fine."
And disappear in showers.
"Can I kiss you?" Lucas whispers, leaning to Tim, who drags the chair back and
sighs tiredly.
"We have ten minutes," Tim says after a while and spreads his legs. "So you can
blow me and kiss me after."
Lucas is sure Tim will be the death of him one time. But right now he is more
than content with this fact, when Tim's dick is down his throat.
 
***
 
"Who the fuck is this guy?" Lucas hears Red Hood swear in his earbud when he
kicks off all the five thugs Hood was fighting with in something like a minute.
Tim pops a gum loudly, before answering:
"He is my guy, so suck it up and at least try to kick some asses there, for
fuck's sake."
Lucas grins wide, moving to the next target. And he is pretty sure Tim is
smiling too.
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