Tim gets stuck with some sort of toxin derived from Ivy's old work, but at least Jason is there to whisk him away.
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Pairing: Tim Drake x Jason Todd
Tags: Frottage, established relationship, genderfluid Tim, drugging, the JayTim is consensual
Tim felt his blood broiling, inside his body, his very veins, as he pulled the needle from his arm, chucking it down onto the ground. The tip was stained with his blood, the vial still containg a trace of a liquid in a dark rose color- pinker than blood, a romantic's ideal color. He shuddered, wanted to crush it under his boot heel, but knew he couldn't. He'd need to take it back to the cave, have it analyzed, with his blood.
His stomach flipped, and for a moment nausea overtook him. He swallowed as spit pooled in his mouth, inhaling slowly through his nose. He needed to call this in- needed to get the traffickers he'd stopped and left restrained into GCPD custody- not that it would probably do much good. But he had to try.
And he needed Bruce to know they'd gotten their hands on something that most definitely once belonged to Ivy. She'd be royally pissed, that was for sure. Hells, maybe he should just call her-
"You responsible for the mess of bodies back there?" Tim spun quickly, body tense- but it was just Jason, his voice mechanical from his helmet. He was still straddling his bike- how the fuck hadn't Tim heard it?
He realized he could barely hear anything except his pulse straining in his head, pounding in his ears. His nausea had shifted to a tightness in his muscles, his belly cramping almost painfully, and he could feel heat and blood rushing down to his groin. Oh, no.
He must have looked pale- or flushed, Tim really didn't know- because Jason climbed off his bike, pulled his helmet off his head. His curls were tussled, wild, gorgeous, begging for Tim to tangle his fingers in them, to pull and yank until Jason was gasping, writhing-
Oh bloody fucking hells.
"You alright?"
Tim scrubbed his hands up over his face, trying to suck in a breath. He swore he was about to begin trembling, the desire inside him blooming like spring, heady like a fucking animal rut. "No," he admitted, and the moment he let his hands fall from his face Jason was there, reaching up to cup his face, tilting it, trying to examine it in the streetlamp light.
"Babygirl, talk to me," he whispered, and Tim melted, did tremble. This was still… new, with Jason. He hadn't quite gotten used to hearing the endearment, from him- the adoration, in his voice. He had never expected this. He hadn't expected there to be room in Jason's heart or life for the childhood crush Tim had been harboring for far too many years.
Tim swallowed thickly. "Traffickers had a case of drugs," he admitted, "tracker on the one that got away with it. His location should ping to the system- but they stuck me with something." He glanced down, and Jason reluctantly let go of him, crouched down and picked up the needle, examining it. "It feels like Ivy's work used to."
"Ivy- oh." Jason glanced up, and Tim turned his head away, clenched his hands into fists. He could keep himself together. It was what he did. Anyone else could fall apart, but not Tim Drake.
Jason straightened up, took the time to carefully tuck the needle away in a compartment on his belt, before he was holding out a hand.
"Give me your comm."
Tim reached for his ear, pulling the small bud out. Jason popped it into his own ear, pressed it. "Hello, hello who's up listening tonight?"
"What- Jason?" Tim could just hear Barbara's voice, she was speaking so loudly- shocked. "This is Tim's line!"
"Yup. I'm kidnapping him for a bit- very, very important work. Could you have someone follow up a tracker he set live on the system?" Tim couldn't hear Barbara respond now- she must have contained herself. He swayed a little- considered maybe he'd just pass out instead of falling into the fucking needful pile of a human he knew the drug wanted him to. At least he'd get an hour of sleep, then.
The team should just consider that a win.
"Yeah, and send someone to clean up a trafficking mess." Jason rattled off an address, before he was simply popping the comm out of his ear, offering it back to Tim. "Keep it off." Tim took it and simply stuffed the earpiece into a pocket of his belt, as Jason headed back for his bike. He grabbed his helmet, hopped on, and pulled it securely over his head, before revving the bike to life. "Now, c'mere," he said, voice mechanical again, oddly… alluring…
Tim hurried over to the bike, hopped on behind Jason and locked his arms around his solid waist. The bike took off into the streets, dancing between late night travelers on the road.
Tim pressed his cheek to Jason's back, between his shoulder blades, inhaled the sharp scent of gunpowder and leather. His cock was straining in his suit uncomfortably, as his hands splayed on Jason's belly. One slipped to his belt, gripped it tightly- and over the sound of the bike, Tim heard Jason yell, "Just a couple minutes babygirl, then I'll take care of you."
Tim believed him.
He managed to keep himself in check, when Jason stopped the bike and climbed off, offering an arm to steady Tim. The younger took it, dug his gloved fingernails into his jacket, as sweat pooled at the base of his spine uncomfortably. His heart was racing, his cheeks flushed, hot, as his cock was leaking now, begging for attention. Gods if Jason just looked at him right, he might come.
Maybe that would just fix this whole mess.
Jason got him up to his safe house- a well lived in one- but the moment the window was shut, he was ripping his helmet off, dropping it to the floor with a clatter so loud Tim nearly jumped out of his skin. Jason reached for him, pulled him close, ripping the mask from Tim's face and tossing it to the ground as well.
"Tell me what you need," he whispered, voice heavy, pulling from his chest. Tim bared his teeth, felt feral, could barely focus on anything except the heat radiating off Jason's body. He surged up, pressed his mouth in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to Jason's as he grasped at the man's leather jacket. Jason grunted, as Tim's teeth nearly knocked his in the younger's excitement.
Tim was more coordinated than this. He was more controlled than this. But he couldn't bring himself to remind himself of that. All he wanted was to crawl inside Jason's skin and meat and bones.
Jason leaned back against the closed window, hands going for Tim's hips and jerking him close. He slipped a thigh between Tim's, and Tim rutted against it, whining into the kiss as his cock pressed inside his suit, getting the faintest ghost of friction. "Fuck," he breathed, as Jason's hands pushed his hips back, only to yank them forward, guiding him to grind against him.
"Yeah?" Jason asked, color blooming on his own tanned cheeks. "We can do that if you want."
Tim could have laughed. Instead he kissed Jason again, got his lower lip between his teeth and pinched. Jason mewled, the most un-Jason-like sound- so surprising that the first time he'd made it, one night with Tim, Tim had stopped dead in what he was doing.
Now it only drove him forward as he continued to ride Jason's thigh. His lover's hands left his hips, reached up for his hair and tangled the inky, lengthy locks around his fingers. "Harder," Jason mumbled into the kiss, and Tim pressed harder to the meat of his thigh, dug his teeth into his lip until he tasted blood.
Jason didn't seem to mind. He pulled at Tim's hair, jerked him from his mouth and forced his head back. He leaned in, nuzzled his neck, kissed at his jawline- couldn't get to much else with his damn suit in place. Tim cursed it as he shuddered, his balls tight and aching, his body wanting release.
A full body shudder wracked him, as Jason breathed out "yes, c'mon babygirl," and Tim came so suddenly it knocked the wind from him. He tugged at Jason's jacket, sagged against his thigh, let his predecessor support his weight as he panted, his cock pulsing cum into his underwear, his suit forcing it tight to his skin.
Jason released his hair a moment later, and before Tim could even catch his breath he was hoisting him up, tossing him over his shoulder, a hand cupping Tim's supple ass. Tim gave a surprised squeak, held onto the back of Jason's jacket and grimaced as his cum was already cooling, against his skin.
"Let's get you stripped and comfortable before you dive back into delirium." Jason was heading directly for his bedroom, and Tim couldn't argue. He'd very much like to be stripped of this fucking suit and his now sticky underwear- to be laid out and worshiped on Jason's bed.
The man was very good at worshiping, Tim had learned.
And even if this had twisted a thorn deep into the gut of his night, Tim figured there were plenty of worse outcomes. A night with Jason, he would readily admit, was always welcome.
Follow the forest path in a swirl of red and wonder. This Little Red Riding Hood costume brings storybook magic to life — basket full of dreams, heart full of adventure, and a sprinkle of sunlight through the trees. 🌿❤️
Wild with bloodlust, Miss Karnstein terrorises the local villages under cover of darkness. Resplendent in her disintegrating finery - and her distinct red riding hood, she rises nightly from the mildewed recesses of her majesterial family vault, mounts her deranged werewolf steed Belial by light of the haunted moon and the carnage begins.
Rumour has it that she was turned by her own grandmother - a veritable crone, harridan and vampiric witch - who dwelling in the nearby woodlands, sank her teeth into Drusilla out of spite after she interrupted a clandestine necromantic rite bringing Grandmother some handbaked gingersnap biscuits.
Her feral madness and blind fury knows no bounds! Entire villages have fallen prey to her sanguinary lusts, and that of her steed - who gorges himself on the intestinal tracts and bloody innards of their victims in a carnivorous feeding frenzy!
