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Jason was a romantic. That had been one of many surprises in store for Tim when the two had started seeing each other. Jason was a romantic to his core, and Tim had somehow, someway, by some stroke of magnificent luck, become the benefactor of that.
It had caught him off guard at first, all the little heartfelt gestures. Tim had never seen anything like it in his short life. Not outside of the TV, anyway. His parents sure as hell hadn’t loved each other. It wasn’t like Bruce was an icon of healthy intimate relationships. Every fling in Tim’s short life had been messy and intense, flames burning bright and fast before petering out just as quickly. But Jason…
Jason was something else.
Jason signed every post it note with xoxo.
Jason scribbled poetry on the backs of receipts and shoved them into Tim’s pockets for him to find at random intervals.
Jason made tiramisu from scratch because he knew it was Tim’s favorite dessert, then lit candles to bathe the dining table in a soft light while they both ate straight from the pan, laughing together.
Jason treated Tim like he was something special to be cherished, which was one of the most bizarre things Tim had ever experienced in his life. And that was saying something.
It made him feel like he was gonna burst, gonna explode into a big pile of goo, completely obliterated by the enthusiasm with which Jason showed his love. Always in these beautiful, passionate ways that left him speechless, caught off guard like he’d stumbled right into a Nicholas Sparks novel, being wooed by the small town hunk.
Just a few days ago, Tim and Jason had been lounging on the couch, not talking, just coexisting as they each were absorbed in their separate tasks; Tim buried in a pile of quarterly reports on his laptop and Jason buried in his annotated copy of The Alchemist.
“‘I’m going away,” Jason’s voice broke the long chain of silence coiled comfortably between them. Tim looked up, startled and a bit nervous at the proclamation. But then Jason continued, not letting his eyes lift up from the page once though he no doubt could feel Tim’s gaze weighing heavy on him. “And I want you to know that I’m coming back. I love you because…”
Tim’s heart thrummed, flustered at the words rolling bewitchingly past Jason’s lips. They’d never said that before, those three earth shattering little words. But soon enough, Tim was both relieved and disappointed to realize he was quoting the book, hearing Jason’s tone shift almost imperceptibly as he imitated another character.
“‘Don’t say anything,’ Fatima interrupted. ‘One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.’
“‘But the boy continued, ‘I had a dream, and I met with a king. I sold crystal and crossed the desert. And, because the tribes declared war, I went to the well, seeking the alchemist. So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.’”
Jason still didn’t look up, but there was that cheeky little smirk that meant he knew exactly how flushed Tim had become, bright pink from Jason’s tender intonation. He hadn’t been able to focus on a single report for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t the first time Jason had quoted some sappy line from one of the beat up novels that were always piled on the floor next to his bed.
Their very first kiss had been on a rooftop, confiding in each other under the light of the full moon, an unseasonably clear night in Gotham (and really, a clear night in Gotham was unseasonable no matter what time of year it was), almost like the sky was conspiring to get them together. The gentle press of their lips had been cut short by the crackle of his comm (almost like his evil family was conspiring to make sure he didn’t get any). Tim had reluctantly unweaved his fingers from Jason’s hair and scrambled to his feet, stuttering apologies. Jason just smiled, a little teasing, and said I know.
As Tim grappled away, Jason yelled after him, “‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow!’” And if Tim had had the biggest, goofiest smile on his face all through foiling the bank robbery he’d been directed to, well, that was nobody else’s business, Stephanie.
So despite their rough introduction, Tim had come to trust and care for Jason deeply. How could he not? When he was so obviously adored, so unbearably understood by this strange, wonderful man. Despite Tim’s initial expectations, despite the proof that Jason could be fierce and ruthless and brutal, Jason had also proven himself to be one of the kindest men Tim had ever known. And he knew with absolute certainty that Jason would never hurt him again.
Which was good. Objectively. Certainly a requirement for a healthy relationship between anyone.
Except.
Except… Tim kind of wanted Jason to hurt him.
Tim kind of needed Jason to hurt him.
He wasn’t quite sure when or why or how it had happened. Probably some deep seated physiological issues related to spending his sexually formative years learning advanced martial arts and fighting violent criminals. Whatever the reason, Tim just… couldn’t get off without something hurting. Like, physically.
It had been a real point of contention with Conner. Two hormonal teenage boys, they’d hardly been able to keep their hands off each other. But Conner had taken it personally when Tim could never seem to find his release, despite the other boy’s superhuman stamina. Conner had always seen it as a personal failing when Tim had to tap out, sore and tired, with his climax nowhere in sight. Tim could come without the pain, technically, it just took, like, a million years and wasn’t ever satisfying enough to justify the work. So mostly with Conner he just kept going until it stopped feeling good. Which Tim knew always frustrated Conner, even if he wouldn’t say it.
And when Tim couldn’t take it anymore and explained that he needed Conner to be a little rough with him, Conner had been… less than amiable. He was always very careful with Tim, conscious of his super strength, always sure not to do any damage, which was very sweet, and also the most maddening thing Tim had ever dealt with.
There had been a few awkward attempts before Conner had said he just couldn’t do it and, honest to god, told Tim to think about seeing a doctor concerning his…‘condition.’
That had really taken the wind out of Tim’s sails. The two of them settled comfortably back into their 100% platonic friendship like the whole thing had never happened, which was for the best considering that now Tim wanted to drown himself every time he thought about repeating the whole situation. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought of asking Stephanie for something like that.
There had been a whopping two whole occasions where Steph had made an effort to get him off before Tim just said no thanks. The majority of their sexual relationship had consisted of Tim flat on his back with Stephanie riding his face. And that had worked for them. It was just something they didn’t really talk about, even after Tim found himself, once again, having the We’re Better Off As Friends talk.
Then Jason had come along, all bloodthirst and knives and ‘I’m gonna make you regret ever putting on that uniform’ and that had, regrettably, really done it for him. When Tim fisted furiously at his cock after patrol, digging his fingertips into the fresh bruises on his ribs for that glorious spike of adrenaline, he couldn’t help but dust off those old memories of Jason beating him into the ground during their first fateful meeting. He thought of the sting on his lip, split by gloved knuckles; the pounding in his head, drowning everything else out; Jason’s grip on his wrist, crushing it so tightly the bones almost snapped.
And that would send Tim over the edge. Accompanied, of course, by whatever self-inflicted torture he could manage that would be enough to make his body to drive away the rest of the world and trap Tim in his own body, overwhelmed by pleasure and pain, just the way he needed.
It wasn’t a great system. But the paranoia was too great to risk hooking up with a stranger, making himself vulnerable like that. Tim just had to make do. When everyone else told him he had a stick up his ass and needed a good lay, he just thought Don’t I know it and told everyone else to shut up. He was well aware of the stick up his ass. Or the lack thereof.
Then Tim had fucked up. He’d fallen in love with Jason. Worse, Jason had fallen in love with him. And there Tim was, forced to reckon with the complicated relationship he had with his body, again, as he contemplated sharing it with the person he loved most in the world.
He was absolutely terrified. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. Another, I can’t do this. Another disappointment. So he decided to do the rational, adult thing and put off dealing with his issues until the last possible second.
Every time things got a little hot and heavy Tim stepped back. When the wandering hands (mostly his own admittedly) got a little too close to someone’s belt, he would take a step back and smile apologetically. He made it a point to avoid situations like that entirely. But Jason just made it so hard when he stood there in his stupid leather jacket and stupid tight pants giving Tim all kinds of disrespectful thoughts. When Jason walked around being that gorgeous and charming, reading the most heart-melting lines from his books out loud with that smug little smirk on his face, Tim couldn’t help but dive across the couch and kiss it off of him.
Furthermore, Jason was so understanding about the whole thing, never asking for more, or pressuring Tim, or questioning why he always scuttled off to the bathroom in the morning when he’d woken up with his morning wood poking into Jason’s thigh. And really, that just made Jason even hotter which wasn’t fair.
Tim was cursed. Surely, some sadistic god was playing a horrible prank on him. The most perfect man ever loved him, and that just made Tim more sure that Jason would never really be able to satisfy him.
Jason had just made the offer for more anytime Tim was ready, while also making sure Tim knew that it was okay if that was never, leaving the ball firmly in Tim’s court, where he was waving his fist at the referee and cursing the rules of this stupid game.
Tim just wanted his boyfriend to beat the shit out of him. Was that too much to ask?
Probably. Thus, Tim was left to furiously jack off by himself. He was laid out in bed, thoroughly turned on by the scent of Jason all around him, clean skin and smoke and a bit of lavender. He’d just gotten out of the shower after finishing up patrol, taking advantage of the privacy he had while Jason was occupied for the rest of the night by something Tim honestly couldn’t be bothered to remember right now. The sheets were soft, caressing the skin of his back, the rest of his body bare to the warm air of the bedroom. Tim turned his head and inhaled deeply, drunk on the intoxicating smell all around him.
He had to be more careful now. His body was on display for Jason more often than not these days, and the older man would surely take note of any mysterious scratches or marks in unusual places. Those unusual places being the insides of his thighs where Tim used to pinch at the sensitive skin until there were pink welts popping up like daisies. But that was off the table.
Tim wrapped a hand around his already stiffening cock. Recalled a favorite fantasy of his, one in which Jason already knew Tim’s dirty little secret and indulged him in it. He pictured Jason’s devious smile, imagined the feeling of one large, rough hand pushing between his shoulder blades until Tim was bent over the nearest flat surface, completely exposed and spread open for his love. He envisioned the rasp of leather on denim as the Jason in his dream removed his belt and began to whip Tim’s ass, every sharp crack and bite from the strap pushing him closer to the edge. God, he wanted that, wanted Jason to take care of him, make him feel good, make him hurt so good.
Tim’s legs spread farther apart, making room for the hand that he wasn’t thrusting up into to squeeze around his balls, increasing pressure until they ached.
He wanted Jason to whip his back raw, then wanted to feel the skin of Jason’s chest irritate the wounds while he fucked into Tim hard and deep. He wanted to whimper and whine and let every thought leak out his ears, surrender to the sensations enveloping his body. He wanted to burn until he cried and wanted Jason to lick up the tears when they were done.
Tim was so fucked.
But he couldn’t help it, and it felt so good, so all encompassing, the delicious friction of his palm on his cock along with the protest of soreness just a bit lower. He was so lost in it, so completely gone he didn’t even notice-
“Woah.”
Tim froze, knees snapping shut. Mortification and alarm flooded his brain from the top of his skull to the first knob of his spine, like a drug sending his nervous system into overdrive. His cock throbbed where it stood, still held captive in Tim’s hand. Great. Just what he needed. Another kink.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jason said completely casual, like he always was, staunchly refusing to acknowledge any awkwardness accompanying the situation. He leaned against the door frame, helmet tucked under one arm, looking unfairly attractive in his thigh holsters and the shirt fighting valiantly to not tear open across Jason’s chest.
Tim became abruptly aware that he was not in his own bedroom. Tim spent so much time at Jason’s apartment nowadays, he hardly noticed the difference most of the time. But right now, Tim was embarrassingly, suffocatingly, undeniably confronted with the fact that he had decided to masturbate in Jason’s apartment. In Jason’s bed. With the fucking door open.
The implications were staggering.
“By all means,” Jason said with a wave of his hand and a teasing lilt to his voice. “Don’t stop on my account. I’m just going to go take a shower for a totally appropriate amount of time and engage only in the most chaste of behaviors while I’m in there.”
Usually, Tim really appreciated Jason’s ability to be calm and collected in times like these. He never got awkward, never made Tim feel uncomfortable, just recognized the situation for what it was and transitioned seamlessly into some other task or topic of conversation. It made Tim feel safe. Seen.
And right now, hard as a fucking rock.
Despite all the evidence indicating that it was not the rational choice to make (Tim wasn’t really thinking with his rationality right now), he stared at Jason’s back, retreating towards the attached bathroom and said, “Wait.”
God. Fuck. His voice was totally wrecked.
Jason obliged, turning back around to face Tim, a curious tilt to his head.
Fuck. Tim hadn’t thought out this far. His mouth hung open uselessly. His knees were pulled up close to his body. His dick was still throbbing.
“Do you want me to stay?” Jason asked, his voice steady.
It was so stupid. It was a whole can of worms. It wasn’t worth it. It would just lead to trouble, for the both of them.
“Yes,” Tim said anyway.
Jason set his helmet on the top of the dresser without moving any closer.
“Do you want me to touch you? Or sit back and enjoy the show?”
Tim let his eyes slip shut and breathed out shakily. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“I want you to touch me.”
And god, wasn’t that the truth. Tim wanted it so bad. He wanted Jason to touch him so bad his whole body demanded it. He always wanted it. Wanted it every time Jason flirted with him or smiled at him or was near him or wasn’t near him. Jason was so kind, so accommodating, so uninterested in anything Tim wasn’t ready for. But Tim had always been ready for the physical stuff; he just wasn’t ready for how this would end. But Tim wasn’t thinking that far ahead tonight.
He let his eyes flutter back open when he felt the mattress dip at his side. A warm hand rested on one of his knees. Jason leaned down and pressed his lips to the other knee, a small reassurance. Tim knew that whatever he asked, Jason would do, whether that was kissing him or fucking him or just sitting there and watching Tim jerk off. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He could feel Jason’s eyes on him as intensely as a physical touch.
His voice was a whisper when he spoke again.
“I want you so bad I feel like I could break the world in half.”
Then Jason was surging forward, kissing Tim like he needed it to breathe, a hot press of lips and desperation. Tim let his legs fall open, making room for Jason to settle between them as they devoured each other. Leather crinkled under Tim’s grip as he tugged Jason on top of him, laying back against the pillows, the pillows that smelled like home and safe and love. He could feel the whole line of Jason’s body against him, the hard press of his abdomen, the cold metal of his belt buckle, the scrape of denim on his thighs, that brain scrambling weight resting between his legs.
Jason pulled back just a fraction of an inch, giving Tim’s chest room to heave.
“What do you want?” Jason asked, his voice low, rough. He’d asked that question a couple of times early on in their relationship, before he’d learned to read Tim like a book, and Tim had never had an answer, not an honest one he was willing to give, and his silence had always given Jason pause. Tim would get a soft kiss and a hum and then Jason would suggest another activity. Right now, Tim couldn’t stand the thought of doing anything else.
“Anything,” He gasped. “Everything.”
Tim could feel Jason’s smile pressing into the base of his neck, just above his collarbone. All of a sudden Tim felt bold, felt greedy. He wrapped one hand in Jason’s dark curls and dragged that smile further up his neck, until Jason got the hint and sucked a patch of skin into his mouth, nibbling and tonguing at it. It was so fucking good, so devastatingly arousing. They’d never gotten this far.
And Tim wanted more.
He knew Jason was taking it slowly, easing into this, but Tim wanted teeth, he wanted marks he could poke at later. He wanted everything, all at once, satisfying every dirty craving he’d ever had, ever crushed down. All of them were bubbling up in him now, every failed orgasm, every almost climax, and he felt like it might swallow him whole, the wanting and pleasure and need.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, doll,” Jason murmured into his skin. Tim struggled to remember the last thing he’d said. His head felt like it was full of cotton. He didn’t know what to say. All words escaped him.
Predictably, Jason began to pull back, to put space between them and reassess the situation, figure out how to proceed, how to reassure Tim that everything was alright, even though everything wasn’t alright, because Tim felt like if he didn’t come he would die and he needed Jason with him, body and mind and soul.
The arm Tim still had over Jason’s shoulder tightened. His thighs locked over Jason’s hips, preventing his tactical retreat. The message was clear.
You aren’t going anywhere.
Jason groaned as the movement pushed his trapped cock against the jut of Tim’s hip bone, the erection that had been growing in his jeans ever since he first saw Tim spread out in his bed making itself known. He rocked down again, chasing his own pleasure for just a moment before gathering what was left of his brain cells together.
“You gotta talk to me, Tim,” Tim felt the words against the skin over his pulse as much as he heard them and let the hand on Jason’s head relax so Jason could lean back just a little and meet Tim’s eyes. He was startled to find them so blown wide and dark. “You’re not high on Ivy’s sex pollen right now, right? Cause that would kind of suck.”
Tim laughed and shook his head. Some of the tension between them loosened, leaving room for familiarity and warmth to sink back in.
“Nope. This is all me, baby,” Tim replied, letting humor color his tone.
“Good,” Jason said softly while Tim’s thumb brushed over his cheekbone. “Can I ask what brought this on?”
Tim took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He traced a path over Jason’s nose, over the curve of his brow bone and the flat pad of his temple.
“I’m tired of denying myself the things I want because I’m afraid everything might go horribly wrong.”
“I promise, even if the sex is absolutely atrocious, I’ll still love you,” Jason’s words were a touch joking, but they still caught in Tim’s chest. He couldn’t help the bright grin that stretched across his face. Jason smiled too, and leaned in to kiss Tim again, this time warm and happy and utterly content.
When they parted, Tim rubbed his thumb over Jason’s bottom lip, pink and wet from the kiss. The heat was back in Jason’s eyes, smoldering Tim right down to his core as he locked eyes with the man below him and sucked the pad of Tim’s thumb into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth.
“Can I suck you off?” Jason asked when the finger slipped out of his mouth.
“Yeah,” Tim said, his voice cracking in the middle of the word. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yes, please.”
Jason grinned and then he was moving, mapping out a trail across Tim’s skin with his mouth, charting the valleys between his ribs, the river of his sternum, the plains of his stomach, until he was settled on his stomach, one hand a band of heat around the base of his cock. Jason sucked the head of Tim’s cock into his mouth and god Tim thought he’d known pleasure before, but now pleasure was rattling his bones, knocking on the inside of his skull yelling Is anybody home?! Are you getting this?!
It was so good.
But it wasn’t enough.
Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty, and Jason never faltered, never complained, just switched smoothly to jacking Tim off whenever his jaw needed a break. Tim just writhed and writhed under the assault of pleasure, so much, but never peaking. Somewhere around minute 7 he’d hit the ceiling, the lid on his pot keeping everything from boiling over. Ten feet from the end of the race, the finish line started moving, and Tim was stuck at 95%, not quite reaching full charge.
Tim groaned, frustrated this time instead of pleasured and threw his head back. He was gripping the sheets almost hard enough to rip them, not that he cared about that at all at the moment. The wet heat of Jason’s mouth was the best goddamn thing he had ever experienced, had sent him up into the stratosphere, but now Tim was stuck in orbit, not drifting off into space, not hurtling down towards earth’s surface, just… hovering. Tim kinda wanted to cut his dick off.
Jason pulled off, his hand taking over without hesitation. He didn’t look tired or annoyed or confused like Tim was afraid he would, he just looked at Tim like he was a puzzle waiting to be solved, like the final piece would drop into place at any second.
“What do you need?” Jason asked, his voice gravelly, which just turned Tim on more which shouldn’t even be possible at this point, which just made him even more frustrated.
“I-I need-I just-” Tim panted, overwhelmed by the pleasure, by the discomfort, by the emotions swirling in his head, love and devotion and anger and desire and a deep longing for just this one thing in his life to work. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
Jason released his dick, which was the worst and also exactly what he needed. Jason rubbed up and down the outsides of his thighs, pressing soothing kisses to any skin he could reach. “Breathe,” He instructed. “Tell me what you need.”
Tim took in several deep breaths, giving his racing heart a break for just a moment before it picked back up again. He squeezed his eyes shut, unwillingly to watch Jason put on a carefully controlled mask.
“I-I need it to hurt.”
“You need it to hurt?” Jason’s voice betrayed nothing.
“I just… I can’t come unless something hurts. I need you to hurt me.”
For one excruciating moment, there was silence. Tim felt the warmth of Jason’s hand leave his left thigh.
And then there was a sharp smack ringing through the room, almost unbearably loud. Tim's eyes flew open, a gasp leaping from his lungs as his back arched and his cock twitched forcefully. The sweet burn stung into his skin where Jason’s hand had come down on his thigh. Hard.
“ Yes,” He gasped. “Yes, yes, that, like that-”
He looked down and the words stuck in his throat, blocking up the air that was trying to get out. The look on Jason’s face was hungry and victorious and scheming.
“Turn over, onto your knees.”
Tim didn’t hesitate even a little bit to follow the order, braced on his forearms and completely lacking the ability to feel embarrassed about the way he was practically presenting himself to Jason. There was a brief moment of shuffling behind him before that hand, Tim’s new favorite thing in the whole world, was smacking sharply down right on the meat of his asscheek.
And Tim sobbed .
He collapsed down onto his chest, cheek pressed to the pillow, flooded in that scent again. He didn’t care even a little bit about anything that wasn’t the man between his legs or the pleasure coursing through his veins.
Hit after hit came down alternating sides, leaving his ass burning and red and hurting just the way he needed. Tim positively wailed, vocabulary reduced to yes! and more! and jason, jason, jason ahh!
It all consumed him, rushing over his body like dropping into a pool of water, completely submerged in the mind numbing bliss. His orgasm hit him like a fucking train shattering everything left in him, mind and body and soul. He came harder than he ever had in his life until he was screaming and thrashing and crying.
When Tim came to, he was laid flat on the bed, unbothered by the wetness underneath his hips. Jason was rubbing gently over the abused skin on his ass. Tim felt boneless, like a sack full of melted butter. He had never felt so satisfied in his entire life. He had achieved nirvana. He could die happy now. He was ready.
Tim groaned weakly into the pillow, signaling his consciousness to Jason.
“Welcome back,” Jason said, teasing and fond. “How do you feel?”
“Mm,” Tim said, unhelpfully. Jason huffed out a laugh and moved to lay on his side next to Tim so they were at eye level. He kept one hand on Tim’s back, stroking up and down. It felt really nice. Tim felt good. All floaty and happy.
“Is that why you’ve been holding back ever since we got together? You didn’t know how to tell me that you needed a little pain with your pleasure?”
“Yeah,” Tim said on an exhale. He didn’t have it in him to feel stupid or embarrassed about his poor communication skills. Nothing else mattered if he could have more of this feeling.
Jason kissed his shoulder and Tim finally cracked an eye open.
“Hi,” Jason whispered.
“Hi,” Tim whispered back. His mental faculties were returning to him one at a time, starting with his manners, and he remembered that Jason hadn’t come yet.
“You should come on me,” He said.
Jason choked a little bit.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
Tim sighed and snuggled further into the pillows, letting his eyes slip shut again. He was getting sleepy.
“Want you to,” He murmured. “Want you to come on me. Mark me with your come.”
Jason swore vehemently, moving to kneel over Tim’s lax body. There was the sound of a zipper opening and the rustle of fabric.
“I’m gonna finish embarrassingly fast,” Jason gasped.
“That’s okay,” Tim said, easy and breezy. “I finished embarrassingly slow. We balance each other out.”
Tim felt a hand over his shoulder blade, pressing him into the mattress, bracing for balance and he didn’t mind it at all.
Jason jacked off with reckless abandon, captivated by the picture of Tim all laid out, a painting done up in cream and cherry red. He felt the skin, warm and slick under hand and thought of the way Tim sounded when he came and then Jason was spilling over Tim’s back, a bit of his come dripping down onto that cherry red ass, more of it pooling into the small of Tim’s back. He kind of wanted to lick it all up, or maybe take a photograph, for posterity. All in due time.
He collapsed on his back next to Tim, still fully clothed.
“We need to clean up.”
“Yup,” Tim said in that way that meant he had absolutely no intentions of getting up.
“And we gotta talk about all this more.”
“Mhmm.”
“So that hopefully we can do more of this in the future.”
“If we don’t do more of this, I won’t ever forgive you.”
Jason laughed again, or would have if he wasn’t so breathless. At last, he tugged all his clothes off, tossing them over the edge of the bed, then rolled over to find Tim watching him.
“We need to clean up,” Jason said again, throwing an arm over Tim’s shoulders despite himself.
“In a little bit,” Tim said, burrowing even further into the bed.
Yeah. Jason could wait just a little bit longer.