Clark loved the holidays, it was the prime time for festivities, camaraderie and family. Maybe it was the country boy in him, since Ma and Pa have ingrained the importance of holidays to him ever since he was a child. Nowadays, he found always himself enveloped with the holiday spirit nearing the end of the year. However, he was also aware that not everybody was in a festive mood during the holidays
He started to enforce a mandatory Justice League holiday celebration every December just to have all his loved ones in social gathering, meant to spread joy and camaraderie between his teammates and their respective families. For the most part, everyone seemed to appreciate the sentiment aside from some shallow protests from certain personalities. Besides, they all innately knew that the life of a cape is volatile, so moments of reprieve like this were rare, far-between and completely appreciated.
Right now, Clark was relishing in all the laughter, bright decorations and happy faces that filled the room. In the corner of his eye, he could even see Bruce starting to loosen up a little bit as he was roped into building gingerbread houses with the youngest capes. Clark silently patted himself on the back for another successful Justice League holiday get-together as he made his way to the buffet table to finally indulge himself. But before he could grab a plate and help himself, a new presence startled him.
“Oh, Tim! I didn’t see you there!” Clark chuckled as he regained his composure at Tim’s sudden presence. Tim was dressed in an adorable oversized ugly sweater that enveloped his entire lithe frame and a wide smile. It warmed Clark’s heart seeing another person get into the holiday spirit. “Could I help you with anything?”
Tim looked up at him and softly asked. “Clark, could you I pull you aside for a moment?”
This took Clark at surprise with Tim’s unusual somber tone. He took a quick scan around them and saw that everyone seemed to be caught up in their own activities to pay them any notice.
“Sure.” Anxiety started to pool in his iron-clad stomach as he ushered the young hero into a nearby empty office space. “Is everything alright?”
Those piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through him, before Tim carefully asked. “Clark, would you fuck me?”
Clark was in completely disbelief, whether it was due to the filthy words that came out of Timothy’s mouth or the whole situation. “Excuse me?”
“Would you have sex with me?” Timothy repeated slowly, his gaze unwavering.
“This is highly inappropriate, Red Robin.” Clark gritted through his teeth yet he made no effort to leave the room. He had hoped the use of Tim’s vigilante name was enough to dissuade the younger boy, but all he was met was a noticeable glint in Timothy’s eye.
“We’re not on the clock.” Tim easily replied as if he hadn’t just asked a man he knew for most of his life if he was fuckable. “I’m not asking you as a colleague, nor as my uncle Clark. I’m asking you as a man, would you fuck me?”
It was clear that Timothy wouldn’t take avoidance as an answer. Despite his meta strength, it was as if Clark was pinned on the spot, unable to escape Timothy’s gaze.
Clark tried to reason out with him as guilt pooled in his stomach, the longer he stayed with the younger hero. “Tim, my wife is literally in the other room.”
Timothy rolled his eyes, unamused. “It’s just a question, not an invitation.”
Clark found himself asking softly. “Why?”
“I just want to know if I’m appealing to guys your age.” Timothy replied after a sweet hum as he tilted his head back.
“I’m more than twice your age, Tim,” replied Clark as he started to think of other capes within his age range, beyond the door. He wondered if Tim had ever accosted them like this, he wasn’t sure what answer made him feel better.
Tim lets out an amused giggle. “Obviously.”
Clark hated how much that stung internally. “I think you should be more worried about what guys your age are thinking.”
“Guys my age would fuck anything with a hole.” Timothy let out an unamused scoff. “Kon and Jon had the same exact answer if you were wondering.”
Clark was in disbelief as several thoughts raced through his mind, mainly of Tim asking Kon and Jon if they would fuck him. He had secretly hoped that neither of them took up his offer. “You’ve asked my sons?”
“Stop beating around the bush, Mr. Kent.” The latter part of the reply echoed in Clark’s mind. Mr. Kent… Tim never called him that, it was always Clark or Superman. Furthermore, the way Tim had said it, voice dripped with intoxication yet venomous honey was enough to send shivers down the Kryptonian’s spine. The sound of Timothy’s sweet laughter rang in the room. “Answer my question.”
After a beat of silence, Clark finally let out a reply that seared through his tongue. “Yes, I would.”
“Interesting.” A wide Cheshire grin formed on Timothy’s mouth upon hearing answer, looking far too pleased with himself as if he already knew the answer before he even asked. “See, was that so hard?”
Clark could already feel his own body betraying him with cock twitching in interest. “May I go now?”
Those bright blue irises were still pinned on me as the boy stared at him akin to a predator playing with its prey. “If you weren’t married, would you fuck me or Lois first?”
In a burst of strength, Clark managed to find his resolve, yet the concern of its duration and durability lingered in the back of his mind. “I am not answering that question.”
“Fine.” Tim groaned out paired with an eye-roll. For a moment, Clark thought he finally found his reprieve, but it was quickly followed by another question. “If you had a chance to fuck me without anybody knowing, especially your family, would you do it?”
Timothy was clearly toying with him and looking for a particular answer. There was only one way out of this conversation. Clark let out an exhale of breath before responding. “If I answer this, will you finally go back to the party and pester somebody else, preferably somebody your own age.”
“Yup.” Tim replied with a pop, lips wet from his tongue.
“I’d keep you all to myself.” Clark quietly confessed, hoping that his words would reach nobody but Tim.
Tim turned his gaze away before asking. “Hm, so if the paragon of goodness himself would take the chance to fuck me, then why wouldn’t he?”
The question lingered in the air as Clark wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to this. It was obvious that Timothy was pining over somebody who didn’t quite reciprocate his feelings, somebody Clark’s age and personal morals didn’t take quite the priority. There was a pang in Clark’s chest upon the realization that Tim had only truly wanted his opinion and nothing else. He allowed himself to take a good look at Tim, if only he was younger and hadn’t met Lois then he would’ve been all over the ravenette. In truth, he can’t fathom somebody giving up the chance of being loved by Tim, as beyond all the beauty, he saw firsthand how loving the third Robin could be.
“He must be a complete fool then.” Clark offered the boy, hoping he would hear the sincerity of his words.
“Thanks for being honest, Clark.” Tim bid his farewell, leaving the room.
After regaining his composure, and willing his obvious arousal down, he finally left the room a few minutes after Tim. Thankfully, nobody had seem to notice their brief disappearance until he noticed a gaze locked in on him, a quick peek confirmed his suspicions. Clark didn’t know what he should be more worried about, the fact that he was met with the sight of his best friend, Bruce staring at him with a piercing glare or the scene had caught in the corner of his eye of Tim dragging Red Hood into an empty room.
Tim sandwiched between Bruce and Clark both of them DPing his pussy...
Size queen Timmy taking big dick Bruce and Clark, sobbing because it's too much and it hurts and he wants to stop or at least slow down dad *please*
Bruce getting rougher every time Tim calls him dad because he barely ever hears it from Tim and it's making him so much hornier..
When begging for Bruce to stop doesn't work he starts begging Clark and Clark just grins and kisses him quiet while he moves his hand down to rub his clit, forcing Tim into this explosive orgasm and continues rubbing him through the overstimulation.
Timmy's loose and filled with cum by the time their done with him and he wants to feel horrible about it but at some point all he could think about how good it felt and so the next time Bruce pulls him to his room where he knows Clark is, he doesn't fight it and let's it happen..
It's still mostly dub con but Timmy also understands he can't really fight back (it's fucking superman) so he decides to get the most he can out of it instead..
Maybe sometimes Bruce ties Tim up and leaves him there with Clark who doesn't really get soft until HE wants too, so Clark spends the next few hours drilling into Timmy while he's gagged, blind folded and tied up, the only thing he can do is take it..
Sometimes Bruce (or maybe clark) will tie the other up and put Timmy's mouth just a few inches away from their cock, so that every time they thrust Tim's mouth just barely brushes over their cock until the one tied up snaps, breaks the ropes and shoves his head down on his cock
I imagine Bruce and Clark are super fucking kinky and Tim's their poor victim who just had to deal with it (he's also quite kinky tho so..)
(Also had an idea where Bruce and Catwoman sandwhich Timbin or Jaybin.. or both.... some how.. but idk ur opinion on Selina so idk ;0;)
okay originally i was hoarding this for the noncon event but i dont think im actually gonna use it for that so lets just ramble for a bit with it cause its wonderful and deserves its own fic even if i dont manage to make it one lmao
but yessss i go FERAL when tim (and jason, but this aint about him) call bruce "dad" in bed. the first time few times bruce plays with tim he does it alone. tim isnt compliant but he feels like he needs to ease tim into it- so he ties him down and calls it training, slowly working tim up to being able to take him and then into holding more and more of bruces come inside of him, plugging him up and keeping him that way until he knows he needs to clean tim up for his own health and wellbeing
meanwhile, clark knows bruce is "training" tim to take more and more, against tims will, but hey, he still hasnt tried to quit robin or run away, so how badly does he really want bruce to stop? clark is trying to wait so patiently for bruce to say tim is ready for them both, but he kind of has to push because bruce has gotten attached to having timmy all to himself
finally bruce agrees that tim can take it, and plans it out to have clark just show up when bruce already knows he'll have tim all bound up and on his cock. im picturing bruce in bed, lounging back against the headboard, tim all tied up and sat on his cock, leaned back against bruces chest so he sees clark the moment he opens bruce's bedroom door.
and poor timmy thinks hes going to be saved- thinks clark is rushing over to the bed to pull tim from bruce's lap, only to be met with clark ungagging him just to silence his pleas of help with his mouth, basically tongue fucking him while bruce actually fucks him
tim still somehow doesnt expect it when he feels clarks length press up against him, doesnt want to think about it when clark pulls back to strip down, cant help but start trying to plead again when clark starts pressing the head of his dick up against tims slit while bruce is already balls deep
tim, panicking on bruces cock, yanking at his bindings, begging them to stop, to slow down, he cant take it, /please dad, dont let him/- /clark please, its too much/ but clark just leans back in to swallow tims cries, not so gently bullying his way inside of him, reaching down to make him come on their lengths by rubbing at his clit
at some point tim just goes boneless and loose between them, tears dried on his cheeks and too tired to even beg them for mercy anymore
tim starts to fight back less and less but then one time bruce starts in on the sensory deprivation in prep for giving him to clark for a while and he tries to fight him again- he gets a dildo gag and blindfold, all bound up and then packed up in a suitcase to hand over to clark on the downlow- clark doesnt bother taking off any of the bindings when he gets tim home, just pulls him out of the suitcase and starts fucking into him. tim dreads the sight of the blindfold or the suitcase, knows whats going to happen him, knows he cant stop it but fights back a little more anyway (secretly bruce likes the fight, which is why he actually loves tims sleepovers with clark despite it meaning tim is away for a few days- the prep is worth the lack of tim time to him)
and oh my gooooood the mental image of tim in a ring gag, his mouth placed oh-so-close to bruce or clarks dick while the other pounds into him from behind- hes drooling all over their cock until they really cant take it, snapping the ropes and grabbing his head to shove down into his throat until hes crying and gagging on it ♡♡
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Clark Kent, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Ra's al Ghul/Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Roy Harper, Tim Drake/Zachary Zatara, Tim Drake/Tim Drake
Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Clark Kent, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Kon-El, Dick Grayson, Ra's al Ghul, Roy Harper, Zachary Zatara
Summary:
Tim/10 other people, including himself.
(The multiverse is a wonderful thing.)
50 sentences, 5 to each pairing.
This is....so long. 9.5k long. And it shouldn’t be, so it’s sort of a big jumbled mess, but I’m still proud of it! This is the most I’ve written in a good solid year or longer and it just makes me really happy. So, though I have not edited this in the slightest, please enjoy this monster that is a Tim/Clark/Bruce fic that was supposed to just be smut, but tired into emotions as per usual.
Also shout out to @satire-please for all the little words of encouragement and wanting this fic nearly as much as I did.
Enjoy!!
---
It’s not that Tim means anything by it when Bruce calls and he’s not in Gotham. Bruce knows where he is, regardless, but there’s something different about him knowing and telling him through the phone ‘I’m with Clark’. Even without seeing him, with the miles of distance, Tim knows Bruce swallows too hard and curls his hand into the fabric of his slacks. It’s not as though he’s doing it for some true purpose, because all Tim is doing is being truthful, but still there’s something about Bruce’s complete tension heard over the phone that makes Tim shiver.
He spends a lot of time with Clark. A lot of time in Metropolis high up in an apartment that’s too average a place for Superman, but just perfect for Clark Kent. It makes sense, him being here. They’ve been dating for nearly six months now, so when Tim’s hunched over his computer cross legged in the living room, he doesn’t flinch when a warm hand presses under his shirt and works his way up, rubbing his back.
It doesn’t interfere with his work, whether that be as executive of Wayne Enterprises or Red Robin. He still makes it to meetings and has Bruce’s back whenever he calls upon him. It’s just, after, he takes his bike down to Metropolis. Or, sometimes, he’ll go back to his own apartment to meet up with Clark. They do switch off, after all. It’s only fair, given Clark has super speed and is never late to work no matter where in the world he might be. Even if Tim tries to keep him in bed for as long as possible, he still enjoys being right on time (if not a little more disheveled and out of breath when doing so).
Still, Bruce looks at him in a way whenever Tim comes around. He’s good at hiding it, but so it Tim and he’s been around Bruce long enough to know the subtle changes in the way his jaw tightened or how he turns his back to him just a tad too quickly. Tim tries not to dwell on it, it shouldn’t need to be addressed, but this is Bruce and that means something.
After a little while, the pieces fall together. It’s easy enough to identify when you’re actually looking for it, but Tim’s not sure if he wants to know anymore.
For the first few, Tim just figured Bruce was being protective. It made sense, give Bruce’s distrust even to those he calls friends and how in the past he has been overly cautious with any meta getting too close to his family. He’s caught Bruce a couple of times glaring far too hard at him and Clark if they pause to kiss around him-- typically, Tim pulls away to catch Bruce’s stare over Clark’s shoulder. They’ll lock eyes and it’s just long enough for both to acknowledge each other, for Tim to observe, before Bruce is turning away and whatever fire or depth is behind Bruce’s gaze is gone with him.
Bruce usually doesn’t show up if Clark is invited to dinner which, in and of itself isn’t unusual-- he’s busy many times with or without Clark’s presence, but Tim takes note whenever he thinks Bruce is purposefully avoiding the dining room when he’s over. He refuses Clark’s help more, especially if it’s brought up by Tim first. He becomes more aggressive than, hits harder, fights longer, makes sure he does everything in his power to not need to alien to come along. He also, and this one Tim is most interested by, makes any excuse he can to make sure Tim stays in Gotham instead of Metropolis that night.
It’s never too sudden or too brash, that’s not in Bruce’s fashion. He also never pushes too hard, which is why this one took Tim longer to take notice of. He asks for help with research or files, standard things that usually bring Tim back to the cave anyway. Talk of training, of medical attention, of all the typical rhymes and reasons that Bruce simply mentions a few more times than usual, his head tilted ever so slightly more towards Tim than anyone else, and Tim takes the bait easily enough.
That is, until he figures it out. Until he’s shaking his head in a thankful no, stating he can bandage himself up on his own or with Clark’s help-- ‘It’s mostly superficial, just a few cuts and bruises, don’t worry B’-- or takes the files to look over, promising to send his results in the morning with a soft, tired, smile that leaves Bruce tight-lipped and giving his half nod before turning with a flip of his cape.
Tim doesn’t deny the invitations all the time. He still wants to spend the time with his family, and sometimes he does need to help with a case among the bats or needs more immediate help. He still goes, he’s just more aware of Bruce’s soft nudges to get him to go in the direction he wants.
The problem now is, he doesn’t fully know why. Why he feels the need at all, and it leaves Tim puzzled with both a sinking feeling in his gut and a soft touch of warmth springing to his cheeks. Whether it’s him or if it’s Clark.
When Tim settles on a small plan of his own, he realizes in some ways it’s cruel. He shouldn’t, if he’s being truthful with himself, but there’s still questions he wants answered and even beyond that, the very idea leaves Tim wanting in a manner he doesn’t truly want to face right now.
So, when patrol rolls around and ends with little difficulty or injury, Tim shouldn’t comply with the invitation to go back to the cave, to the manor, but he does. In all truth, he’s tired. It’s been a long enough week and the idea of riding to Metropolis right now doesn’t sound as tempting as it usually does. There comes no second question when Tim nods his head to Bruce’s suggestion, following close behind the batmobile back.
It’s been a good night, his muscles ache, the adrenaline in his veins crashing hard enough to drag him down. Tim stays in the showers longer than Damian or Bruce, just letting the water roll over his shoulders and back, making soft pleased noises among the steam before he finally starts to wash up. He’s not surprised when he finds Bruce still sitting at the computer when he finishes. His shoulders are tense, an easy spot as Bruce is not currently wearing a shirt. He stares at the man’s back before saying his goodnights before heading up the stairs. It’s easy to feel eyes on him as he ascends and, again, Tim notices how he shivers with how heavy it feels against him.
---
“Are you sure about this?” Clark whispers against his mouth, soft and quiet just as his hands flutter up and down Tim’s back. His feet have barely touched down on the carpeted floor and Tim’s already wrapped up in him.
“You know I sleep better with you,” Tim says, pressed flush against Clark’s front as he starts to attack the meta’s neck in bites and kisses. He’s only wearing his underwear; Clark’s hands feel like fire at his hips, burning brighter as they squeeze softly against skin and bone.
“This isn’t exactly sleeping, you know.” There’s humor in his voice.
Tim smiles, leans up close to Clark’s ear. “Then tire me out.”
He’s naked soon after that, with Clark’s clothes falling close behind. The bed feels too plush under him now as he’s pushed down into it with one heavy hand. Tim is kissed breathless, left chasing after more as Clark leaves his mouth to move down his body, leaving light bruises in his wake that aren’t as harsh or dark as those left from his night out. Clark is gentle with his touches, making sure that Tim is shivering and gasping from the pleasure of it all instead of the pain of pressing against something that’s still painful.
When Tim throws his head back into the pillow and just barely stifled a loud moan, he almost feels bad. Alfred will surely know of their activities when he does the next round of sheets. Damian, though he sleep in his own room far down the hall, may still hear them with how keen his hearing can be. It’s not technically fair, but Tim figures it’ll be worth it too get the glares and clipped remarks about it in the morning.
Clark’s mouth is perfectly hot and wet around Tim’s cock. His tongue rolling up and down the bottom of his as he sucks him down. It makes him blush with how easily Clark takes him, how he can look up through his dark lashes and bare into Tim with his bright blue eyes.
It’s moments like these that he really sees the difference, really truly realizes just how bright and burning Clark’s gaze really is. There’s nothing but lust in them now, blown thick with black, but still the blues look near glowing with what’s left of them in the dimly lit room.
Tim can only keep his stare for so long before he’s throwing his head back again, biting down hard on his knuckles but still the groan escapes from his throat. He rolls his hips up and Clark doesn’t choke, just rubs circles into his hips and angles his head down even further.
“Clark, Clark…” Tim pants between his hand at his mouth, using his free hand to grip onto his boyfriend’s head, grip the dark locks to keep him stable as he grinds up into that hot mouth. It’s too much, it’s always too much, and he loves how much Clark always leaves him right on the edge of it all.
“I’m going to finish in your mouth if you don’t stop,” Tim hisses, gripping Clark’s hair to pull hard until, finally, he relents and pops off.
He’s smiling with drool running down his chin. Tim thinks he shouldn’t look as good as he does.
“We don’t want that, now do we?” his voice rumbles deep within his chest, Tim able to feel the base of it shake through his own frame.
It’s hard peeling himself out of Clark’s grip, if only for just a second, as he crawls over to the edge of the bed to grab the bottle of lube that he keeps on hand there just in case.
He’s never actually invited Clark over in this sense before now. He’s only ever come for dinner or to pick him up, say hi, before he’s leaving again. Never to have sex. Never to fuck in the bed Tim calls his own in Wayne Manor. It’s a little jarring, unnerving even, but Tim’s barely thinking of nerves at this point as he pushes Clark onto his back to straddle his waist.
Tim stares down at Clark with a smirk as he squirts a good amount of lube onto his fingers before leaning over and reaching behind himself. He doesn’t let Clark watch, but he lets him listen. Lets him look at Tim’s expression as his mouth drops open and his breath hitches sharp in his throat.
“Easy,” he says even as his cock is rock hard against Tim’s thigh, even as his chest rises and falls in something that reminds Tim of control. All he wants to do is flip Tim over and finish him up; stretch him out as quickly as possible to get his cock in him, fuck him hard and fast how they both enjoy, but Tim is well aware of this fact, so he takes his time and puts on a show.
Clark does nothing to rush him. He lays back against the pillows to only watch as Tim works himself open. He spends a lot of time twisting two fingers inside of himself, scissoring them out on every pull to get his rim ready for the massive dick that is Superman. His cock is leaking precum all along Clark’s skin, and in turn whenever he thrusts lightly back onto his own fingers he can feel Clark’s cock spreading precum across his leg. He’s sweaty, they both are, and the room smells so heavily of sex now.
He fingers himself for a while, just to tease and just to feel Clark grow impatient below him. He would never actually do anything unless Tim said it was okay, but he can still feel the withheld power and want underneath Clark’s hands. He runs them up and down Tim’s thighs. He strokes Tim’s cock here and there, squeezing until Tim’s whimpering and humping between his fingers and Clark’s hand. He strokes himself, makes Tim feel how hot and heavy his dick is against his skin. It’s intoxicating. But still, he makes Clark wait. He puts on a show. He makes sure everyone is watching for this.
When Clark’s fingers start pressing deep enough into his hips to leave bruises, he knows it’s time to move on. His hole is slick, rim stretched as his fingers slide in and out of himself smoothly. He makes sure to wriggle his hips as he slowly slides them out, letting a drawn out purr leave his lips with his head fall back against his shoulders. In this position, his back bends into a graceful arch, holding it all balanced while he sits on his knees straddling Clark.
He hears the meta’s breath hitch and knows his point has been made. He only wishes it was a full moon, get the light to shine down onto him, make his skin glow. Clark always likes to comment about how he glows in the moonlight. Tim thinks it would have been nice to use that tonight, but no matter.
He looks back down to smile, licking his lips at the sight of Clark on his back, cheeks flushed deep. Tim slowly curved forward, running his hand up Clark’s leg before grabbing at his thick cock. It pulses under his hand, the head shiny and beading with precome. He grabs for the bottle of lube against to slick him up.
“Excited?” he lets out when, on a downstroke Clark twitches in his grasp.
Clark swallows, “You always get me like this.”
“I think you’re particularly hard tonight.” Tim quirks, flicking his thumb over Clark’s slit to gather up the precum before he brings the digit to his lips to suck it clean. “Think someone’s watching?”
It’s a risky move, he knows. It’s calling too much attention to the ghost in the room, but he’s feeling daring tonight. The blush on Clark’s cheeks is entirely worth it.
“I--”
“Relax,” Tim reassures with a press of his hand. Clark looks like he’s about to get up and leave, suddenly looking as though he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Clark, it’s okay. Just enjoy it. Enjoy me.”
He shifts along Clark’s hips, rising up on his knees to move up and grasp Clark’s cock, leaning back so it slides along his cleft, mock-fucking for a few thrusts before the head catches at his rim and he’s moaning, they both are, and Tim can’t help himself anymore.
The press of Clark’s fat cock head always leaves Tim unable to breathe for a moment, when it pops inside he gasps, biting at his lip as his body opens for Clark, lets him slide down the rest of him in a smooth motion, steady. Clark is fisting the sheets, probably going to rip them by the end of the night which won’t be the first set that have lost to his hold.
“God, you’re so thick.” he’s saying with a sigh, using gravity to slide down until his ass meets the meat of Clark’s thigh. He groans at the full feeling, wishing Clark could get deeper at this angle. “Love how I can just feel you.”
Below him, Clark is panting. He’s staring up at Tim with dewy eyes as though he’s in a dream. It makes Tim feel special; knowing that he can reduce Superman to this sloppy mess by just riding his dick just right.
He smiles as pretty as he can and starts doing just that.
At this point, he’s practiced. Just like everything in Tim’s life, he made sure to learn exactly how Clark likes to fuck and be fucked. He did his research and practiced until he got it just right. Clark’s head is thrown back into the pillows, his hands once more squeezing at Tim’s thighs and his hips to ground himself, leaving finger patterned bruises for Tim to count in the morning.
He’s enthralled by the short, hard thrusts Tim keeps up with. His thighs burn, but he’s used to worse so he can keep up nearly as long as Clark can. It’s worth it when the meta’s eyes flutter shut and he just lets his mouth fall open to moan as the weight of Tim bounces up and down on him, his cock sliding in and out of Tim’s wet heat hugging him so tight. Tim never goes far enough away to let Clark slip out, always making sure to go all the way back down so every inch of his cock gets attention.
Tim is feeling particularly mouthy tonight.
“You’re so deep, Clark. Feels so--ah--so good. I’d do this all day if you let me,” he says, clear and loud enough that he’s sure the walls can hear. “If you want. You just have to ask.” Tim lets his head loll back again, leans back so he can brace himself against Clark’s knees, fully exposing himself and needing to use more strength to get the same hard thrusts he wants. His own cock is sticking out from his body, hard and dripping. He lets his eyes drift, they move to his door.
It’s not where the camera would be, not where the multiple cameras would be, but it’s where Bruce would be standing, staring hard at the door.
Tim imagines him in just his sweatpants from down in the cave. At times he knows Bruce sleeps nude, but he’s sure the man would slip something on if he walked down the hallway. There are no lights on outside his bedroom door, so he can’t tell from the shadows themselves, but he can still think. This imagine. Imagine Bruce without underwear on underneath the sweats, imagine his cock is hard in them, bulging out, but Bruce doesn’t touch. He has more self control than that. But he wants to touch, wants to knock on the door or just let himself in. Wants to pull them apart and ravish Tim or ravish Clark and god, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is. It shouldn’t make Tim moan, make his heart pound, his cock twitch as his thrusts angle differently and he bounces just right to start stabbing at his prostate.
Tim shouts, clenching tight, and Clark reaches out to grab him, hold him, pulling him up as he hugs him close, gets a hand around his cock.
The sensation is enough to get him close, but the mental images of Bruce touching himself after he goes back to bed, about how he’s fist his own cock to the thought of Tim or Clark or--
Tim’s coming, hard, and he’s holding Clark tight, wrapping his arms around Clark’s shoulders for balance as his body shakes through his orgasm.
Every pulse leaves Tim clenching around Clark’s cock still buried deep inside of him. In his arms, Tim goes limp and Clark’s okay with that. He holds him as he thrusts up into his pliant body, still tight from coming, and comes with a loud groan of his own into Tim before rolling them over to cuddle, giving Tim long kisses that the other returns with glee.
They fall asleep still wrapped up in each other, sweaty and covered in cum, naked with the sheets tangled at their legs, but it’s perfect.
Tim wonders if the walls are still watching; still listening.
---
In the morning, Clark leaves early. It’s the weekend, but he’s promised Ma he’d come and help out on the farm, fix some broken fences and all. Besides that, Tim’s sure he doesn’t want to stick around to have breakfast with Bruce, so he doesn’t argue at all when he kisses him goodbye and watches him fly out with the sun just starting to rise.
Damian is the first to comment, curling his nose as soon as Tim enters the kitchen to grab the box of frosted flakes from the counter.
“If he must stay the night a warning would have been nice.”
Tim makes a little huff as he rolls his eyes going for a bowl and spoon. “Sure, next time my boyfriend comes over to fuck me, I’ll let you know.”
Damian makes another face and Tim nearly snickers. “Father won’t be pleased you had the alien over uninvited.”
If Tim were anyone else, he might have taken pause at that. He might have choked and showed his hand, but he didn’t. He gives a half-hearted shrug while he gets the milk, giving away nothing as he pours it over his cereal and settles into the stool across from Damian. He doesn’t think of Bruce. He doesn’t think of him watching. He eats his cereal and shrugs.
“We’re dating. He needs to get used to it.”
Before he leaves, he doesn’t run into Bruce. He’s either still in his room or already down in the cave. It’s still early, but Tim decides to not wait around for him. He doubts confronting him now would be a good idea. So, instead, he showers, changes, and is gone.
---
If Bruce did do something, he doesn’t let on that he did. Neither of them say a word, neither of them make a move. There’s a slight avoidance of eye contact that Tim picks up on, but Tim knows when Bruce finally does look at him that there’s something behind his eyes. There’s something there and it burns brighter than it did before. It leaves his skin covered in goosebumps and his mind wanders to Bruce now more often than he wishes to admit. It is more difficult than he thought hiding this sort of secret that isn’t quite that.
He does avoid the manor, however. He makes more excuses to turn down the offers and has even stood tall with two cracked ribs just to make sure Bruce didn’t force him back to the cave. He’s not sure, but he thinks if he goes back there something will happen. It’ll all finally come crashing down, become something real instead of the little game he may have just made up in his own head.
He grows tense. When he hears Bruce’s voice in his ear Tim bristles up and feels hot. He needs, but he’s not sure if he wants the full answer or not. He starts to lose more sleep than he already does.
Finally, it happens. He’s slammed into a wall and knocked out in a near instant that leaves his entire world black.
When he wakes up, he’s back in the cave on one of the medical tables bandaged up and hooked up to a heart monitor. He groans, sitting up and is instantly scolded by Dick who was out on patrol with them that night.
“Croc still throws a mean punch,” he says, pushing Tim back down, but Tim’s been out for long enough and he doesn’t really want to be sleep on a hard med table.
“Everyone else okay?” Tim asks, looking around to see Bruce is standing nearby, watching with a bit of worry in his expression. He’s still got most of his suit on.
Bruce’s voice is deep, still Batman-rough when he speaks. “Cuts and bruises, mostly. Damian dislocated his elbow so I’ve already sent him to bed to rest.”
“I’m sure he’s taking that well.” Tim grumbles, swinging his feet to the floor. “Think I’ll do the same. An actual bed sounds nice and my neck won’t hate me tomorrow.”
“Tim--”
He holds up a hand. “I’m alright, Dick. It’s not exactly my first concussion.”
Tim pulls all the wires from his person, happy that he’s already been changed from Red Robin into more comfortable cotton pants and a shirt. He doesn’t imagine Bruce doing it.
Dick still helps him up the stairs, but as soon as Tim makes it into the hallway he pushes Dick away because he’s fine and he’s not a child anymore. He’s in his room for maybe ten minutes getting ready to fall into bed when he hears the door open and Tim rolls his eyes.
“Dick, I swear I can brush my teeth by myse--”
When he whirls around, it’s not Dick standing there with the door closed at his back. It’s Bruce.
“Oh,” he breathes out. “Well.”
Bruce stands there and he’s quiet. He stands there staring at Tim, glaring at Tim, and he doesn’t say a word. He’s at least now changed out of the suit, but he’s still acting like Batman instead of Bruce and it makes Tim clench his teeth hating this standoff.
“Listen--”
“I don’t want Clark coming here anymore.”
Tim’s eyes widen. It feels like getting hit all over again.
“Wha--”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be here.”
The blood in his veins starts to boil. Tim’s still not sure where this reasoning falls, but he’s tired of just waiting for the pieces to fall into place for him.
“Why?” he finally snaps. “Why not? Because you can’t stand that we’re together? Christ Bruce-- is it me or him?”
This, at least, surprises Bruce. He has to pause before responding. His hands are curled into tight fists by his sides.
“Excuse me?”
Tim wants to bite his tongue. He doesn’t. “Are you jealous of me or him?”
It’s now there, hanging, dangling heavy and all Tim needs is to know. He needs to know if Bruce doesn’t like any of this because Tim got to Clark first or if Clark got to Tim first. He needs to know at what angle Bruce is taking this. If it is just him being overly protective or if he wishes to have acted sooner than now when Tim’s essentially living with Clark and Clark gets to kiss him good morning and goodnight every day.
“Well?” Tim spits, can’t help himself now, his head is starting to throb again and he can’t handle this. Can’t handle Bruce just staring instead of speaking, instead of ever using his words. Tim glares and steps forward, covering the short distance between them to stab a finger at Bruce’s chest, doesn’t care that he has to look up at him to make sure his point is fully felt. “What is--”
Tim’s words are snatched within the air as he’s quickly grabbed and spun around, back hitting the thick wooden door of his bedroom hard. It jars his body more than it probably should be after the fight with Killer Croc. His shoulders ache, making him hold back a hiss, but he’s not sure if that’s from the night or how Bruce is right now gripping them.
And Bruce is. He’s holding him tight, grasp solid as he keeps Tim pressed up against the door, blue eyes dark as they bare down into him. He’s panting softly, mouth slightly open. From this angle, he towers over Tim more than he has ever felt Bruce do. The lighting from his bedside table is all cast across his back making his features look darker and sharper as he now looks down at Tim.
The fight all but leaves him. All but.
“Do you want to fuck me, Bruce?”
The hold on him grows even tighter. It makes Tim wince slightly, can feel how the pressure makes Bruce’s hands shake ever so slightly. “Tim,”
“Because if you do, just tell me. Or if it’s Clark--”
“It’s not--” Bruce sighs, heavy, shakes his head. “It’s not you. Or him. It’s-- it’s both--”
And, suddenly, it all changes. Tim’s eyes go wide as he breathes in sharp, pressing out a soft ‘oh’ from his lips as he watches Bruce’s face soften and turn away from him, eyes looking down to the floor now, anywhere that isn’t Tim’s form.
“It’s always been...both of you. Separate, but then when you’re together and it’s...it’s too much.”
That’s not what Tim was expecting at all. He was expecting some sort of jealousy, that he wanted Tim and couldn’t stand the idea of him with Clark, or after so many years finally realizing how much he’d always cared for Clark only after Tim had him. He didn’t think there would be so much guilt. Bruce looks as though he’s been gutted, still being gutted, and Tim feels his own stomach sink with it all, his shoulders slumping.
“Bruce,” Tim reaches out, but Bruce takes hold on his hand before it can reach his face.
Bruce shakes his head. “You don’t need to.” He says, squeezing Tim’s hand, still not letting it go. “It’s a selfish thought, I know it is. You’re both perfectly happy.”
Still, Tim tries. “Bruce, I didn’t--”
Bruce holds him back, gently pushes him away and moves around him. “You should rest, Tim. I’ll have Dick check in on you every couple of hours.”
There’s no more room to talk, Bruce is good at that. He shuts down the conversation and finishes without fully giving all the information, without either of them fully expressing anything, and Tim knows here is where they’re supposed to simply forget about it and move on.
He doesn’t sleep for nearly any part of the night. He only nods off in between thinking, in between picking at his nails, and having Dick come in to look after him with food and water. Dick can tell that there’s something wrong, but doesn’t bring it up. He’s good about knowing when the right time is, and this is definitely far from it.
Tim needs to talk to Clark.
---
It’s not quite a month after, but it’s coming close. Nothing much has changed beyond Bruce still tensing up around him. He still avoids eye contact. Their conversations are still tight-lipped and short. It leaves Tim feeling just as hollowed out, hopes he hasn’t royally fucked up this, hopes he can make it better.
Tonight, he doesn’t wait for the subtle invitation to come back to the Cave. Bruce gives him a look behind the cowl as pulls up beside the car. No words are exchanged as Tim pulls off his helmet and heads for the showers. Thankfully, Damian has decided to make it a longer night and goes to train, leaving Tim to his own thoughts in the steam of the showers. He scrubs down every part of himself and makes sure his skin is pink from the heat before exiting, dressing quickly as his hair still drips wet to head for the stairs.
“Don’t be down here all night.” Tim throws over his shoulder without looking, saying this as if it were normal. As if Bruce didn’t immediately stiffen, turn in his chair at the computer to watch Tim ascend the stairs, to want to ask, but doesn’t.
Tim hopes he takes the hint.
Now, he is grateful for Damian still in his uniform, for Alfred in the kitchen making a late-night snack for him, for Bruce being still in uniform. His nerves are starting to gather, pool in his stomach and make his limbs twitch a bit, wanting to turn back, but he refuses. He passes by his own bedroom door in the hall, making his way down. It feels as though the hallway has grown, stretched out in a manner he can’t recall since he was much younger, just a barely-teenager wandering the halls of a place he has yet to call home feeling awkward and out of place. Now, as an adult, he hates that he feels the same.
Bruce’s bedroom door isn’t locked. Tim lets himself in, closing the door quietly behind him.
The room is tidy, much like all the others in the manor. Alfred keeps them all looking neat, for the most part, but at least Bruce’s looks more lived in than the others. For him, Dick, Jason, and Cass, their bedrooms are made up for ‘just in case’ moments and called ‘spare’ even if no one besides them ever sleep in them. They always look tightly made and fresh. In Bruce’s room, the pillow is bowed on one side of the bed where Bruce prefers to sleep. There’s a robe hanging at the back of his bathroom door still slightly damp from the morning. It holds the basics, but still looks lived in. The toothpaste is nearly gone, there’s half a bottle of pain medication on the bedside table, a dresser drawer partly open.
Tim explores, taking it all in. It eases his anxiety a little to slowly make his way around the room picking up on the little notes of here and there that make up part of who Bruce is. It is not a big part, but it’s enough.
On the dresser sits a bottle of cologne. It’s expensive and new, just the top fraction of the bottle empty, but Tim smells it anyway. It is nearly like a forest, but sharp at the end. It’s not entirely how Tim remembers Bruce smelling, but it’s a hint of everything mixed around. Tim turns from the little bottle, wondering, heads to the pillows. In particular, the one that’s dimpled and used, taking it in hand to smells the fabric.
Tim inhales deeply and here finds the true, full scent of Bruce Wayne. All dark, brooding, pine with the combination of soap, sweat, and copper.
“I wouldn’t take you as one to sniff clothing.”
The voice is deep over his shoulder. Tim would have jumped if he was anyone else, but instead he opens his eyes and slowly brings the pillow back down, turning his body towards the door where Bruce stands.
“Not exactly clothing. But still, wanted to know.” He gives a smile that he hopes is warm, nonthreatening. He didn’t come here to fight, after all.
Bruce doesn’t move from the doorway. His stare is looking passed Tim, not at him. “You should go to your own bedroom.”
Tim doesn’t move either. “I came to talk to you. About last time.”
“I said before, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t have cornered you or said what I did. It was out of place.”
At this, Tim can’t help but roll his eyes. Bruce always has to be so dramatic and run away from anything that involved feelings. Sure, Tim was pretty shit all around at this sort of stuff too, but he was also stubborn and decided this was something that needed to happen. “Or, you could actually let me finish.” He pushed up from the bed, moving over towards Bruce.
“Tim--”
“We discussed it, Bruce. We’re...okay with it. Giving it all a try, at least.”
“We?”
Tim nods, standing right in front of Bruce at this point. He’s rocking back and forth on his heels trying to not let the weight of everything rest so heavily on his shoulders. Bruce looks like he still wants to run away, so Tim keeps his smile soft.
“It’s crazy what can happen when you talk about things, I know.” Tim goes for a laugh, but Bruce isn’t buying into it. He makes Tim want to shake him. “I talked to Clark about it all, Bruce. What you said. And we’re willing. To try, I mean. If you want that.”
It’s hilarious watching the near two seconds it takes for Bruce’s brain to fully catch up and process everything that is being said right now. Tim can actually pinpoint the exact moment that it all clicks together and Bruce’s lips part to make for another round of protesting, but this time Tim is ready. He’s prepared and takes his opportunity, closing the distance between him as he grabs Bruce by the front of his shirt and pulls him into a kiss.
The angle is off. Tim has to actually stand up on his toes to reach as Bruce is still not working with him. Hands are at his shoulders, not pushing away or pulling him forward, but there and it stabilizes them both. Tim wants to hold on, wants to make it deeper, but also knows he can’t scare Bruce off so quickly, so he pulls back after a few seconds, sighing happily as space is slowly made between them once again with Tim leaning back on his feet.
Bruce still seems dazed. “Tim, we still can’t do this.”
Again, Tim rolls his eyes. “I told you, we discussed it.” He turns his head and looks to the window looking out to the yard. “Clark,” he calls, his voice nearly sounding sing-song in nature. “Get over here. You’re already late.”
It’s ridiculous, honestly. Having super speed and still being late to everything.
A few seconds later there’s a light tap at the window, knuckles against glass, and Tim moves quickly to open it, pushing aside the curtains as he draws it open. Clark’s there, floating as he does, dressed casually with one of his farm-boy plaid shirts on and his unnecessary glasses. He looks relaxed, happy even, as he touches down with boots on carpet and pulls Tim to his side, kissing him in greeting.
“Sorry, wasn’t sure when you wanted me.”
“Any point. You know how he gets.” Tim turns his smile from Clark to Bruce again, but quickly puts on a stern expression when he sees Bruce still standing looking like a statue watching them both. “Bruce. Come here, please.”
It takes a moment, but thankfully he listens. Tim watches as his throat bobs, swallowing hard, before he closes the door behind him making sure to turn the lock. Tim meets him halfway and grabs at him again, pulling him into another kiss and is pleased that this time Bruce’s hands end up at his waist. He purrs softly with the pressure, pulling away again with a smile.
“If you’ve changed your mind, that’s fine. But we have discussed things and if you want us both,” Tim shrugs, catching sight of Clark over his shoulder moving closer. “You can have us both.”
He doesn’t quite catch the look that Bruce gives to Clark at his back, there’s a silent exchange which ends up meaning something, because as soon as Bruce looks at him again he’s leaning down to catch his lips once more. Tim barely gets an ‘oof!’’ out as the hands wrap tighter around his waist, pulling him up to take his weight and carry him over to the bed, letting him fall back onto the comforter with a small bounce.
Tim’s cheeks heat up almost immediately, wondering if Bruce is aware just what a show of strength does to him.
There’s no time at all to take it in before he’s being devoured. It’s like a switch was flipped in Bruce, his hands everywhere tearing at Tim’s shirt until he could finally pull it from over his head, his lips almost never leaving Tim’s own in the process. His mouth already feels puffy and bruised, having to turn away to gasp in air, but that doesn’t stop Bruce at all. The man attacks his throat, biting a path down to his collar which leaves Tim moaning loud and growing hard incredibly fast.
“Clark,” he coos, grabbing for Clark still standing just beyond the bed.
He’s smiling, looking far too smug for his own good. “Don’t mind me, I’m enjoying the show.”
His voice seems to break Bruce’s concentration enough for him to realize it’s not just the two of them in the room, turning his gaze at the meta now and with a sharp pull at his belt loops Clark too is being dragged into the mix.
They’re kissing, and Tim knows what Clark meant by ‘enjoying the show’. Watching them both is intoxicating. Bruce is brash and demanding, but Clark keeps enough control that he doesn’t give in to the demands as Tim does. It’s slower, filled with tongue and teeth and watching when Clark grabs Bruce’s jaw to force him into the right tilt of his head makes Tim’s mouth water.
He’s hard in his pants and they’ve barely done anything at all. It’s pleasing to see Clark and Bruce look much the same, at least. He bites at his lip before pushing up from the bed, reaching for them both which makes them jolt as Tim rubs at their growing erections.
They looks down at him, breaking their kiss, and Tim gives an innocent batting of his eyelashes. “I think we all need to be more naked.” He says, feeling them both twitch against the palm of his hand. “And, I wanna see Bruce suck off Clark.”
Tim can nearly smell how their arousals spike.
Clothes are quickly thrown to the floor and Tim makes a mental note to make sure they both do it slower next time, because there will be a next time, and Tim really wants to admire both men. Right now, however, he knows there’s urgency. He’s not sure how long as Bruce has wanted this, but it’s long enough to make him desperate, and both Clark and Tim have thought about this all month long. They’re all tired of waiting.
Clark is shoved down onto the bed alongside Tim as soon as he’s naked, Bruce kneeling down between his spread legs. Tim’s mouth drops open at the very sight, surprised that Bruce has listened for a second time that night and that he’s getting on his knees to do it.
‘Oh shit,’ falls softly from his mouth as he watches Bruce’s calloused hands stroke Clark’s cock, filling it out completely. It’s a sight that Tim had only dreamed about as a teen trying to jerk off quickly in the dead of night, but now he’s here and the real thing is far better than his imagination could have conquered up.
His grip leaves Clark gasping, his hips thrusting up halfway to meet Bruce’s hand on every downstroke. He’s already beading precum, sliding down Bruce’s hand to slick the way. It’s everything Tim could have possibly wanted with Bruce’s sharp concentration on exactly what he is doing to Clark’s cheeks dusted in pink as he lets his mouth fall open with the noises he makes.
It’s nearly too much when Bruce looks up at him, locking eyes with Tim before stretching his mouth around the head of Clark’s dick, sinking down slowly onto it. Tim groans nearly as loud as Clark does as he lets more and more of Clark’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him down.
Tim is nearly jealous. He was nowhere near as good at taking Clark’s cock when they first started dating as Bruce is right now. He takes the girth of Clark like it’s no problem, like Clark isn’t as big around as a fucking coke can and sure, Bruce might have a bigger mouth but it’s still not fair. Tim wonders briefly where he even got such a skill set from and then quickly abandons the thought as mental images of Bruce on his knees for various men start popping up in his head. It shouldn’t make his dick as wet as it does.
He finds himself drooling as Bruce starts bobbing his head up and down, taking his time to get to the root of Clark before swallowing and moving his way up. It’s obviously driving Clark nuts as he puts a hand over his eyes and moans out again. Tim finds himself wanting and feeling the need to come far too quickly, so he moves, can’t just sit and watch Bruce deep throat his boyfriend anymore or else he will be thoroughly embarrassed by it later.
“Clark,” Tim calls, moves to throw his legs over the man’s torso, making sure to scoot up to give Bruce as much room as he needs. “Clark, tell me how it feels.” He pulls at his hand, clearing his face so he can drag his mouth down his cheek, nipping at his jaw. “Tell me how good he is.”
“His tongue,” Clark manages to gasp out after a moment to collect himself. He looks wrecked and he hasn’t even come yet. “It’s so hot. Pressing so hard against the base every time he swallows me-- fuck--” He inhales sharply, grabs Tim by the waist to balance himself. “He knows what he’s doing. Taking me so well, Bruce--”
Clark gives a thrust of his hips, a gentle movement that Tim knows well, has him looking over his shoulder to watch a collection of spit and precome slide out of the corner of Bruce’s mouth, making his path even slicker as he gives an audible growl and starts to move faster up and down the length. Clark arches, squeezes hard at Tim’s hips which leaves Tim moaning, grinding his cock against the span of Clark’s abs.
“Oh, fuck, more--” Tim is saying even if the action isn’t being done to him he still feels as though every vibration from Bruce’s mouth is traveling up his spine to making him quake. “Clark--”
“You don’t have to ask how it feels, Tim,” Comes a whisper in his ear, feeling the heat of Bruce at his back. He didn’t even hear him pop off of Clark. “I’ll just show you.”
Abruptly, Tim is pushed down against Clark’s chest and before he can register his new position, Bruce is spreading his ass and licking a stripe from his balls to his hole, instantly making Tim arch with the sudden spike of pleasure running up his spine. Clark takes him by the shoulders to keep him down as Bruce delves in, forgoing any more of teasing for the main course.
“Fuck!” Tim shouts, wriggling as Bruce’s tongue stabs into him, forcing him open so he can lick inside. It’s difficult trying to thrust back with Clark’s hold on his shoulders and Bruce’s grip on his ass. He’s pinned and meant to only take it, eyes rolling into the back of his head wanting to fuck himself back against Bruce’s tongue.
There’s so much saliva in Bruce’s mouth from sucking off Clark that Tim’s wet in a matter of seconds. He opens easily under Bruce’s tongue, relaxing as he shoves as much of his tongue inside of him as possible, using his hands to open him up as much as he could. He pulls back only to press two thick fingers inside of him, slicked by the mess coating Tim’s ass and falling from Bruce’s mouth. It’s nearly embarrassing how easily they slide inside of him, how much Tim wants this and accepts everything Bruce gives.
He’s making noises against Clark’s collar, pathetic little moans and pants that leave Clark’s skin damp with humidity. Clark’s still holding him, though his grip is less now, mostly petting him, rubbing circles into his back as Bruce eats him out.
Bruce thrusts his fingers in, licking around Tim’s rim instead, having slowed down now to fully get the taste. They all listen to the sounds of Tim’s pleasure, of Bruce slurping at Tim’s hole, dragging his teeth down the sensitive flesh until Tim’s jerking against his grasp. He gives a low growl, picking his head up to wipe his mouth.
“Clark,” he says, sounding rough from the man’s cock, “Grab the lube. Second drawer.”
Tim protests with little whines as Clark shifts below him, removing himself only long enough to follow Bruce’s instructions and throw him the half used tube from his nightstand. As soon as Clark is returned, Tim stops whining, though he’s only quiet for a couple of moments more before he’s gripping at Clark’s biceps, letting out a sharp gasp as Bruce starts really opening him up.
It’s like a fire has started in his belly, with Bruce at his back shoving three fingers inside of him, slicked up and jabbing hard, spreading out, and Clark at his front, smiling at him, rubbing his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him softly and tell him how good he looks between them both. It’s better than anything Tim could dream of, and better than ever having to make a choice between the pair.
“I’d love to see you open on my hand sometime,” Bruce says, his voice sounding almost dream-like as he watches his fingers disappear in and out of Tim’s body, his hole red and stretched, wanting to see how it would look closed around his entire wrist instead of just the three digits he’s got stroking him from the inside.
Clark laughs, plucking at Tim’s nipples until he’s wriggling again, moaning, looking a complete mess. “Haven’t gotten that far yet, but he’s good about getting four inside of him.”
Tim can practically hear Bruce’s heartbeat quicken with this information. He makes a very fast mental note to not tense up right before he feels Bruce’s pink shove in beside his other fingers, force their way inside of him wide. It leaves him yelping, back bending as best it could being held by the two men as he was.
He hears Bruce curse behind him, scramble for the lube again, Tim shaking with what he knows comes next.
“Please, please, please, Bruce.”
The fingers are pulled free and Tim is pulled up, kneeling on the bed right in front of Clark with his cock jutting out red and shiny, Bruce at his back, feels the cock slide along his crack once before Bruce aims and is pushing inside of him. He’s left breathless as the cock is pushed inside of him, feeling much like Clark’s far too big, too long, too thick. It pushes hard against Tim’s insides, forcing a path and making itself fit. Tim feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes from the sensation, feeling overwhelmed just from being filled up by Bruce.
Clark looks up at him, smiling, looking like the rising sun like he always does. “You look so beautiful, Tim…”
His hands are gentle against Tim’s thighs, thumbing circles into his skin to make sure Tim knows he’s there, even if both of them know Bruce would never do anything to truly hurt Tim. It’s a perfect contrast of soft, fragile feeling, as Bruce starts up his thrusting, pounding hard into Tim leaving his body feeling used every time he pulls out only to shove right back in.
It’s all fast wanting, a brutal pace that leaves little time for Tim to breathe. But his cock is still so hard it hurts, desperate for any attention as it simply bounces in the air, slapping against Tim’s stomach with every thrust.
Thankfully, Clark’s there. Clark takes pity on him, moves one hand from his thigh up to his cock and holds him tight. He doesn’t move, instead lets the force of Bruce’s fucking to push Tim’s dick into fucking his fist. The dual sensation is too much.
Tim comes with a scream, head thrown back against Bruce’s shoulder as he spills all over Clark’s fist and his own stomach. His body slumps, boneless, as soon as his muscles relax and Bruce thankfully doesn’t continue his jarring thrusts. Instead, he holds Tim close, cock still fully sheathed inside of him, and just grinds into him, hips rolling, which leaves Tim buzzing as he pressed up against his prostate, milking him for all he’s worth.
Bruce moans, pulling Tim into a kiss as his hips still and he’s coming too, as deep inside Tim as he’s able, listening to Tim groan with the pulsing of the cock inside of him as he licks the noise from his lips.
They falls together, Clark catching them before Bruce can crush Tim, separating them gentle and tucking them inside his sides. They’re stated, but they’re not so rude as to let that stop them from helping Clark out with his still throbbing erection.
Tim takes him in hand, rubbing hard against the head of his cock, playing around his foreskin. He rolls Clark’s balls in his hand, smiling as he listens to Clark start to lose it. Bruce is biting at his chest, sucking against his nipples, and doing his best to leave bruises and teeth marks in the perfect glow of skin that spans Clark’s chest. It’s gentle and rough just like Tim had and just like Tim is toppled quickly in the perfect combination of touch.
Clark spills into Tim’s hand with a loud sigh of satisfaction, thrusting up a couple times to ride out his waves of orgasm, making sure every drop of cum rolled down his cock and onto Tim’s sticky hands.
Tim settles, laying back, and brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them off. He can feel Bruce staring at him, but doesn’t look up until every digit is clean.
Bruce lets out his own sigh, falling back against the pillows. “I think you’re both gonna kill me.”
Tim snorts. “I haven’t even called you Daddy yet.”
“Tim.”
---
Later, when they’ve all come at least once more, when they’ve cleaned up enough to not complete ruin the sheets come morning, when they’re all exhausted and tangled together in the bed of Bruce’s room, Tim stirs from his place against Clark’s chest, turning towards Bruce at his other side. His eyes flutter open, seeing Bruce is awake.
The morning is still early, the sun not yet breaking over the horizon, but Tim knows it’ll be soon now. The sky is starting to get lighter, casting away the dark and the stars. Bruce looks like he’s been thinking, been awake for too long.
Tim scoots closer to him, tucks his head up under his chin, ear pressed against his chest. He can heart his heart pound.
“You’re panicking.” He whispers, doesn’t want to wake Clark.
Bruce says nothing for a while, but then he’s wrapping an arm around Tim. His hand feels like a weight resting against his hip. “I feel like I’ll wake up any second now.”
It sounds too honest, too raw. It makes Tim nervous.
“This isn’t a one time thing, you know.”
“It might be better that way.”
Tim blinks in the darkness, lifting his head to look up at Bruce who’s staring off into the distance. He looks ripped open, like a wound.
“Bruce,”
Bruce squeezes his hip. “I can’t have things getting fucked up with you two. You’re happy. I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want something to change that can’t be fixed.”
Tim sighs, moves to grip Bruce’s chin gentle, turning his head until he’s forced to look at his eyes. “You know I care about you, right?”
“I know, Tim.”
Tim nods towards Clark’s sleeping form. “And he does too. He cares a lot.”
“Tim--”
“He listens to us, Bruce.” Tim licks his lips, feeling a knot in his throat. “He listens...he knows what our heartbeats sound like. He can pick us out anywhere on Earth. He knows, because he wants to know.” Tim settles his hand over Bruce’s chest, feeling for the thump of his heart, can feel it drum under his palm. “I wants to make sure we’re okay, no matter what. I think...I think we deserve that. That kind of love, for once.”
Bruce stares, says nothing. Tim licks his lips again, laying back down to get comfortable against Bruce’s chest, listening to his heart. Bruce holds him close, makes him feel warm and protected just like Clark does who’s only inches away, who’s feet are up against Tim’s, always keeping contact to know where he is. Always making sure Tim knows he’s there.
“You don’t have to stay,” Tim continues, the bedroom silent. “But we’d like you to. I’d like you to.”
It’s so quiet after, Tim might have thought Bruce had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the rapid beating of his heart still hammering under his ear. He’s given no reply for a long, long, time and Tim figures he should let it go.
But then Bruce is shift, leaning to kiss Tim’s head, press his nose into the top of Tim’s hair, giving a shudder that feel too close to a sob. He rolls, wrapping Tim up in both of his arms, moving them both closer to Clark in the big bed.
Bruce breathes. “I’d like to try.”
Tim smiles, lets his eyes close just as the first rays of light start to peak along the treeline.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Clark Kent
Characters: Tim Drake (DCU)
Additional Tags: Trans Tim Drake (DCU), Sex Worker Tim Drake (DCU), Bottom Tim Drake (DCU), Top Jason Todd, Top Bruce Wayne, Top Dick Grayson, Top Damian Wayne, AFAB Language for Tim Drake's Genitalia, Amnesia, Amnesiac Tim Drake (DCU), Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Misgendering, pretty tim drake, POV Tim Drake (DCU), Tim Drake Needs a Hug (DCU), Tim Drake-centric (DCU), Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Morally Ambiguous Tim Drake (DCU), Slut Shaming, Sex Work, Public Blow Jobs, Song: Piece of Me (Britney Spears), Song: Far Far Away From My Heart (Presence), Song: c u next tuesday (Kesha), Tim Drake Has a Vagina (DCU), Jason Todd Has a Large Penis, Bruce Wayne Has a Large Penis, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Size Difference, Size Kink, Age Difference, Song: Boys (Sky Ferreira), Crossdressing, Song: CANNIBALISM! (Slayyyter)
Series: Part 11 of scarlet starlet
Summary:
The biting, frigid winter wind hit Tim like a freight train as he sauntered down the dark, grimy streets of Park Row. His gut told him that a snowstorm was most likely headed their way, but with Gotham’s near-constant shitty weather, it was hard to tell most of the time. He had made the foolish decision of wearing a crop top and mini skirt, only covered by a cheap faux-fur coat one of the girls gave him as a hand-me-down. It barely did anything to combat the cold temperature, but at least he looked absolutely fuckable enough for any potential customers. The only problem was that the dark streets of Park Row were empty as Tim went through his usual nightly route.
Tim had come to accept that he would rot in this sleepless city that he called home, but he didn’t think it would be so soon.
After waking up from a coma with no memories intact, Timothy tries to survive by selling his body in the dark and cruel streets of Gotham City.
I’ve finally uploaded the final chapter of miss american dream! Thank you so much for all the love and support on my very first multi-chap Tim-centric fic! ♥️
tim should be clarks dirty little secret- after all, bruce and dick would lose their shit to find out clark is screwing anyone that much younger than him, but Especially their special lil guy Tim
and beyond that, tim doesn't want kon to find out
but when kon does eventually find out? he does Not react the way tim expects- and dont get me wrong, kon is torn up about it. there are lots of thoughts floating around his head about how and Why tim got with clark and not him but what comes out more than that is how hot he finds it
tim doesn't know how the whole thing ends up with him being doubleteamed but two kryptonians, but he certainly isn't complaining
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Clark Kent
Characters: Tim Drake (DCU)
Additional Tags: Trans Tim Drake (DCU), Sex Worker Tim Drake (DCU), Bottom Tim Drake (DCU), Top Jason Todd, Top Bruce Wayne, Top Dick Grayson, Top Damian Wayne, AFAB Language for Tim Drake's Genitalia, Amnesia, Amnesiac Tim Drake (DCU), Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Misgendering, pretty tim drake, POV Tim Drake (DCU), Tim Drake Needs a Hug (DCU), Tim Drake-centric (DCU), Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Morally Ambiguous Tim Drake (DCU), Slut Shaming, Sex Work, Public Blow Jobs, Song: Piece of Me (Britney Spears), Song: Far Far Away From My Heart (Presence), Song: c u next tuesday (Kesha), Tim Drake Has a Vagina (DCU), Jason Todd Has a Large Penis, Bruce Wayne Has a Large Penis, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Size Difference, Size Kink, Age Difference, Song: Boys (Sky Ferreira), Crossdressing
Series: Part 11 of scarlet starlet
Summary:
The biting, frigid winter wind hit Tim like a freight train as he sauntered down the dark, grimy streets of Park Row. His gut told him that a snowstorm was most likely headed their way, but with Gotham’s near-constant shitty weather, it was hard to tell most of the time. He had made the foolish decision of wearing a crop top and mini skirt, only covered by a cheap faux-fur coat one of the girls gave him as a hand-me-down. It barely did anything to combat the cold temperature, but at least he looked absolutely fuckable enough for any potential customers. The only problem was that the dark streets of Park Row were empty as Tim went through his usual nightly route.
Tim had come to accept that he would rot in this sleepless city that he called home, but he didn’t think it would be so soon.
After waking up from a coma with no memories intact, Timothy tries to survive by selling his body in the dark and cruel streets of Gotham City.
