An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Characters: Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Fuckbuddies To Lovers, Crack Treated Seriously, Disney, Fluff, Family, this does not actually contain any fucking, or uh magic, JayTim Week, JayTim Week 2018, prompt: magic, I guess there's a hint of superbat if you'd like to interpret it that way, (which I do)
Series: Part 1 of JayTim Week 2018
Summary:
Really, Tim thought, it wasn’t a problem until Dick made it one.
From the prompt table: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” for JayTim, maybe?
Definitely, always happy to smash out a prompt for you. Thank you very much, lovely! Hope the quarantine has been treating you well ♥️
–
Jason’s nursing a bruise on his bicep from a rogue lead pipe and enough aches to make him skip the shower in favour of falling straight into bed, by the time he trudges through his front door and shucks his jacket onto the back of a dining chair.
The helmet goes next, along with the body armour, to land on his couch as he stretches and heads for the bedroom. The shirt’s dangling from his fingertips to slip to his floorboards when he crosses the threshold, and he stutters to a halt at the end of the bed, dropping both it and the duffel in his surprise.
There’s someone in his bed.
Not someone - Tim, slumped back lazily against the headboard, one leg crooked up at the knee and a bundle of the sheets draped over his lap. Which Jason is suddenly, immensely grateful for, because Tim is buck-ass naked. Not a single thread covering his perfectly blemished skin.
Jason can feel heat crawling up his chest and neck and down past his stomach the longer he stands staring. He doesn’t know how he keeps his tone level enough to ask, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
Tim smirks at him, a low note of amusement passing the distance between them. He shifts his hips, cocking his head and grinning when Jason’s gaze flashes down at the disturbance. Jason forces himself to meet those depthless blue eyes, swallowing hard as he resists the urge to slap some sense into himself.
Maybe he’s dreaming.
“Are you a dream?” he blurts out, and Tim’s teeth show in his smile this time.
“I don’t know,” the very naked, very attractive man on his bed purrs, and Jason watches as he lifts a hand from the sheets, dragging it tantalisingly over the ridges of his abdomen. Traces a pattern over his bared ribs until he can press a thumb flat over the bud of his nipple. “Is it a good dream?”
“Yeah,” Jason croaks, and then clears his throat, straightening. “No. Why are you in my bed?”
Tim’s head makes a gentle thunk when it tilts back against the headboard, the moonlight playing over the tendons of his neck. Jason has the unceasing urge to bite them, to drag teeth down the lines of his throat and shoulders.
That damned finger doesn’t stop moving, circling over his chest as Tim eases a stuttering breath through parted lips. “Lost a dare,” he breathes, tone vibrating with heat.
Jason forces his hands to curl, begs his feet to stay pinned to the cold floorboards. Lets the chilled air anchor him as Tim uses his newfound leverage to flex his hips upwards. The sheets shift, exposing the strip of skin between hip and thigh and-
Then he lowers them again, that grin wicked and gleaming.
Jason scowls, but he’s not sure it has the right kind of heat behind it. “No, you didn’t. Why are you here?”
“Got confused,” he tries in response, pausing to groan softly. The sound sings across the muscles in Jason’s belly like a bow on a violin’s string, and he resists the urge to rock forward. “Thought this was my place.”
“You don’t have any safehouses this side of Gotham,” Jason contradicts with a frown. “I’d know.”
Tim sighs, all high and breathy, and rolls forward, easing onto his hands and knees to crawl the length of the bed towards him. The sheets slide from his lap, and Jason makes an aborted yelp, taking a half-step back as the man grins and pauses on all fours.
They’re both still for all of a few breaths before Tim’s moving again, slower than before. Slow enough to draw Jason’s attention to the way the silver moonlight drips over his back, licking down the slopes of his shoulder blades and smothering the curve of his ass. He’s a sight to behold, all shifting, simmering light, and Jason doesn’t think he’s seen anything so ethereal.
Jason’s cheeks feel unbearably warm by the time Tim reaches the end of the bed, straightening to his knees when he’s in front of him. He hums, eyes lidded as he reaches out to layer his long fingers oh-so-gently over the curves of Jason’s hips where they peek above his belt.
“Maybe I just wanted to fuck you, hmm?” he murmurs, his breath fluttering over Jason’s lower lip.
“Since when was this a thing?” Jason chokes out, eyes glued to the sweep of Tim’s lashes and the droplet of silver moonlight on his lip.
Those fingers trail up over his ribs, tickling over the sensitive skin until Tim laces them around his shoulders, that lazy grin enduring as he studies Jason’s expression. Jason’s not exactly sure what he’s broadcasting right now, but whatever it is, it makes Tim’s eyes warm with mirth.
“For long enough,” is the cryptic answer he gets, as Tim crooks one leg to curl around his thigh. And then, before Jason can press the issue, he pivots, dropping his weight to hurl Jason down on the mattress.
He goes down with a breathless cry of surprise, sprawling back and tensing to retaliate, but Tim only uses his moment’s surprise to straddle his waist, knees hooking under his arms as he steadies himself with a palm to Jason’s sternum.
Then he sits back, smug as anything, the warmth of him burning into Jason where he sits. Jason focuses desperately on holding his stare, on not looking down at his very naked lap, even though he can feel the man’s hardness pressing against his abdomen.
“Comfortable?” he quips, because Jason’s always gotten his best lines under pressure.
“Very,” Tim purrs in response, leaning down to rest his elbows on Jason’s collarbones, so he can twine his fingers through the hair above Jason’s very red ears. “And you?”
Jason wets his lips, snared by that burning gaze. “Yeah.”
“Good,” Tim murmurs, and swoops down to seize his lips.
It’s not gentle, though Jason doesn’t feel anything sharper than a flicker of Tim’s tongue as he pries Jason’s lips open. Presses into Jason’s mouth like he wants to claim him, fill himself with the taste of Jason.
His hands jump up to Tim’s hips, and the moan it gets him makes Jason’s grip firm, grinding the smaller man against his bulk. Tim rocks with the motion, gasping against his lips as he shivers, and Jason opens his eyes to drink down the full majesty of the man atop him.
The hands in his hair tighten, those hips rocking down with a purpose as Jason shifts up the bed to meet him more readily, digging his heels into the mattress to give him the leverage he needs to drag Tim’s ass over the crotch of his pants. Tim whines above him, shifting to give him more contact as Jason’s head reels. His hands feel blisteringly hot on Tim’s narrow waist, dragging a groan from the depths of Jason’s chest when the man sits back to gasp down a strained breath.
“I can see why he likes you,” Tim chuckles, and Jason frowns up at him, distracted by the way Tim rolls his core down against Jason’s trapped length. It sends him spinning again, struggling to stay coherent enough to focus on the way Tim’s lips curl in the silver light. “Say my name, gorgeous.”
“What?” Jason gasps, brows knitting as he lifts them back to those eyes. And god, they’re positively glowing in the dim room, fixed on Jason beneath him.
Tim wraps his palms around Jason’s jaw, mesmerised as he rolls Jason’s lip beneath his thumb. “Say my name, Jason. I want to hear it.”
Heat pools in his gut, the name falling from his lips without question. “Tim.”
Tim smiles, slow and coy and sharp as a knife, as he straightens. Sits back as Jason’s hands slide from his hips and fall back to the sheets. It takes him a stunned moment to realise he can’t lift them, can’t move at all, as Tim shimmies up to his knees and grins down at him.
“Tim, then. It fits, I suppose,” he - it, the thing that looks like Tim - says, admiring the curve of his stomach with a wandering palm as dread slowly spills through Jason’s immobile limbs. Those eyes twinkle above him, mischievous and amused as not-Tim wiggles his hips with a wink. “He’s very handsome, I can appreciate your taste.”
Then he curls forward as Jason sucks in a sharp breath, twitching beneath the drag of Tim’s blunt nails as he smooths a thumb over Jason’s cheek, tracing the slope of his wide, terrified eyes.
“I’m going to go pay Tim a visit now,” he tells him around a mouthful of teeth, the words a soft coo between them. “We’ll see whose name he has for me. Maybe he’s halfway across the city, yearning for you as much as you are for him. Maybe he’s lying back on his sheets right now, imaging you in his bed.”
The whine rings up through Jason’s throat before he can quench it, drawing a twinkling laugh that sounds so much like Tim from the creature’s lips. His eyes shine in the light as he stoops to press a kiss to Jason’s temple.
“We’ll see if he has your name for me, Jason. Maybe we’ll see each other again.” He shifts his weight off Jason, rolling to his feet on the other side of the bed, still gorgeously, unabashedly nude in the moonlight. He throws a smirk back at Jason, pattering over to his window, and for a second, for a flicker of a moment, Jason thinks he sees something else behind the veneer of Tim’s smile. “Don’t worry about the paralysis,” he adds offhandedly, sliding open the window. “It’ll fade soon enough. Goodnight, Jason.”
Then he’s gone, leaving Jason panting up at his ceiling, still trapped and still painfully hard as his breaths echo in the empty room. Feeling returns to his limbs in a simmering tingle, until Jason has the coordination to wrench himself upright and gasp his first proper lungful down.
That thing, whatever it was, wasn’t human. Certainly wasn’t Tim, though Jason has a gnawing suspicion why it chose to emulate that form for him specifically. And whatever it is, whatever it wants - other than apparently the name of its next victim - it’s headed for Tim.
Panic laces itself around Jason’s throat as he fumbles for the phone in his duffel. He has to warn Tim, has to let him know that it’s not him - or not whoever it chooses to take the form of, whoever it needs to be to lure Tim into letting his guard down.
His fingers are slick with cold sweat as he fumbles to unlock the screen, already racing for Tim’s number. There’s a handful of missed calls waiting for him, and more than several frantic texts. Enough to make Jason stutter to a halt, stunned.
They’re not from Tim.
If you want to ask me more questions, check out my list of prompts and quote the 6-digit number in the tags :)
Things I like about your writing: You always manage to put an original twist or viewpoint on anything you write. I'm constantly surprised and delighted. Your handling of character voices is so good, both in narration and dialogue. And I really appreciate the way you structure sentences; they're always easy to follow, no matter the length.
Aaah, thank you! I worry so much over character voices considering that a lot of what I write is AU and I have a tendency to bring in characters who I’m not extensively familiar with (thank goodness for comics canon making characterization into a grab bag, I guess??). It’s a relief to learn that I’m not totally falling down on that! \o/
I’m doing a fanfic/writing meme! Drop me an ask and tell me one (1) thing you like about my writing.
“He was protecting me.” Tim’s voice sounded empty. “I was disabling the bomb. He got between the group and me, and when they started using the heavy ammunition, he didn’t take cover.”
He thinks this is his fault, Damian realized. “Did you do disable the bomb?”
“Yes.”
“Would that bomb have killed everyone in the hospital?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then how can you presume that Todd did anything but the right thing, the necessary thing? You are doing him a disservice if you assume that he would’ve wanted you to help him instead of disarming the bomb.”
For the distraction: Would you rather never listen to Taylor Swift again or never have read Illuminae? 💛
omg this is EVIL
what
no
fuck
.... i’d rather never have read Illuminae. I listen to Taylor almost daily and her songs mean a whole lot to me. So... yeah. But this was so evil of youuuuu
[1/2] Hi! Sorry to bother you again. I just wanted to double-check something about tagging. For at least two of the weeks I’ll be posting once or twice a day on tumblr and then all of it together as a one-shot on AO3. I don’t want to update AO3 with chapters with less than a thousand words, and I explicit designed the fics to work in that format. For at least one week I’ll have one chapter per day on AO3 and share that link. Which of these posts should I tag for your attention?
Hey hun! First, you’re not a bother at all! It’s a good question :D And to answer your question, I think you can tag whatever you would like us to reblog really? It’s all about sharing your hard work! :D
The only thing that we would like to avoid, as much as possible, is directly blogging “n.s.f.w.” content to the page. So… if you’re linking to an Ao3 chapter that is a little racey… totally fine. If you’re posting an entire work to tumblr without an outside source/link (just direct to the site via the text post), those are the kinds of n.s.f.w posts we’d like to avoid.
We want everyone to be able to participate and have creative freedom, but we also need to be cognizant of our new tumblr rules, and the best way to preserve this page is just to be cautious! :D
I hope I’ve answered your question okay? Its late and I’m uncaffeinated. hahaha
Take care! And we’re very much looking forward to your wonderful creations :D ~Mod TK
