
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/800041.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU_-_Comicverse
  Relationship:
      Tim_Drake/Jason_Todd
  Character:
      Tim_Drake, Jason_Todd
  Series:
      Part 20 of Kings_Among_Runaways
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-04-24 Words: 5304
****** Bird in the Hand ******
by glymr, iesika
Summary
     "I want to touch you."
     Jason's eyes open a little more, and he grins. "Yeah?" He spreads his
     arms wide in invitation. "You're lucky I'm such a nice guy. Always
     letting you get your way."
When Tim was three years old, he met a boy who changed his life.

Ten years later, he met another.

The idea of having to choose between the two of them has been tearing Tim apart
inside for the last few days, ever since he realized that no, Jason really
wasn't going to forgive Dick for upsetting Tim, or whatever it was that set
Jason against him, initially. He's been trying not to think about it - surely
Jason will come around, eventually, and see that Dick really is a nice guy -
someone to be admired, or at the very least, respected - but with every day
that's passed since Dick had arrived for his visit, Jason seems to hate him
more and more.

It's not just Dick, either. Jason seems to hate everything about Wayne Manor,
when he isn't being trained to break bones more efficiently. He doesn't trust
Bruce - it's so obvious that Tim is constantly afraid Bruce is going to get
*offended*, but the man seems to find Jason's paranoia oddly endearing. He
doesn't seem to mind Alfred, so much, especially when the man is feeding them,
but even the butler's unobtrusive presence sometimes sets Jason on edge. When
Alfred's actually trying to *wait on them,* it's even worse.

It's obvious he finds the opulence of the house overwhelming and oppressive. It
seems crazy, but Tim's pretty sure Jason slept better back at the motel - heck,
back at their *squat* - than he does in the huge bed they now share. At supper,
he sometimes stares at his plate like maybe he's expecting a bug to crawl out
of the micro-greens, even though he almost always eats everything. If Tim
reaches out to him, he'll let himself be touched, and touch Tim in return, but
it's like Tim has to seduce him every time - like maybe he doesn't, actually,
want to - Jason calls it 'messing around.' Tim doesn't think that's quite
adequate.

Jason's tired from not sleeping properly, his fuse is short from nicotine
withdrawal, and...and he just doesn't want to *be* here. Tim knows it. Tim's
*known* it, and he had let himself ignore it, let himself hope that Jason would
change his mind, because Tim *does* want to be here, more than almost anything
in the world.

When he'd walked into their bedroom that afternoon and found it empty, Tim had
been annoyed at first. Shouting at the table, running out like an angry *child*
- what did Jason think he was doing?

And then their bathroom had been empty, too. Tim had felt a twinge of
uneasiness, but the full realization of *what* he was fearing hadn't hit until
he'd turned in the doorway and noticed that one of the dresser drawers was
open, its contents obviously rifled - and in a hurry.

Tim's heart had seized in his throat. When he couldn't find Jason...

He'd looked in a few rooms before the panic had really set in and set him
running down the halls, calling Jason's name. He'd been torn between fear and
anger at the idea that Jason might be *avoiding* him, right up until the moment
Tim had stepped into the library and seen the balcony doors standing wide open.

It was the most terrified Tim had been since the night he watched the Graysons
die.

Jason had gone. Jason had *left him,* and it was every one of Tim's worst fears
brought to life, all at once.

Tim has admired Dick Grayson - *Robin* - for what feels like all of his life.
Moving into Wayne Manor, training to be Robin, being friends with Dick all of a
sudden - it had felt like a dream come true. Realizing, all at once, that he
would give that dream up in a heartbeat to follow Jay... had been an epiphany
that left Tim reeling.

He's still reeling, standing in the spray of their luxurious shower, water
turned up hot enough to scald, turning the events of the day over in his mind.
After he and Jason had come back in, Jason had acted like nothing had even
happened - maybe in his mind, nothing had. Nothing but Tim behaving weirdly,
again, and since when was that new? Tim knows Jason thinks he's odd, a good bit
of the time. That's never really mattered, somehow. Jason's honest about it, at
least, and he mostly seems to like that Tim doesn't really fit in, anywhere.
It's one of the things Tim loves about him.

That's what it comes down to, he realizes. He *loves* Jason - not hero-worship
or admiration, but *love*. Tim's known it for a while, but somehow he hadn't
truly realized what that meant until he thought Jason was gone.

He never wants to lose him. Never wants to be farther from him than he is right
now, with just a few yards and a wall between them. Never wants to spend a
night without Jason's hand on his hip, his heat at Tim's back. Never wants to
wake up and not see the mess that is Jason's hair, first thing in the morning,
smell his breath - taste it - before they've even brushed their teeth.

Tim thought he knew what lonely felt like, thought he knew what to do with
those feelings and how to push past it. He almost feels sick with himself,
because the moment he thought that Jason had moved on shouldn't trump the
memory of sitting in front of the television, waiting for news - any news -
from Haiti.

Tim turns off the spray and shakes the water from his hair, trying to put his
thoughts behind him. Jason *didn't* leave - he's right there in the other room,
and that's the important thing to remember. When Tim walks out there, he'll be
- not asleep. He never goes to sleep before Tim at least gets in the bed. Tim's
not sure if he should feel encouraged by that, even though the initial
realization had been accompanied by warmth. It's possible Jason just wants to
make sure he knows where he is at night - that he doesn't trust Tim not
to...something. Tim's not entirely sure.

He gets out of the shower and dries off before tying the thick white towel
around his waist. He brushes his teeth and washes his face with a salicylic
acid scrub, and then he turns and walks back into their bedroom.

Jason is stretched out on the bed already, covers turned down. It's a warm
night, and he's wearing just a pair of briefs, hands behind his head on the
pillow, legs spread, eyes closed but not asleep. Tim stops in the doorway and
just looks at him for a while. He'd thought Jason was handsome before, back
when they'd first met. Jason's been filling out, some, since they started
eating more regularly, but Tim had barely noticed, other than to be happy he
looked healthier. He's been putting on muscle since they began training with
Bruce, though, and Tim's definitely been noticing *that*. The way he looks now,
his body tight and toned, his skin clear, his hair thick and healthy - eating
well and washing regularly obviously agree with him at least as much as the
work-outs do.

His abs are defined, now, and his arms - always strong - are corded with
muscle. His *legs* - Tim follows the line of them with his eye, up from his
feet. His thighs are - Tim wants to lick them. He hovers in the door feeling
kind of ridiculous, and entirely too turned on considering Jason obviously just
wants to go to sleep.

Jason's eyes crack open, heavy-lidded and sleepy. He looks up at Tim and smiles
a little. "Hey."

Tim swallows. "Hey." He watches as Jason untucks his arms and reaches over his
head, stretching. Tim hears something 'pop', and that shouldn't be - he
shouldn't... "Are you, um."

Jason looks up at him, a question in his eyes. When Tim doesn't actually say
anything else, Jason lets his gaze wander down. Being looked at like this
always makes Tim feel warm and slightly uneasy, even though there hasn't been
any privacy between him and Jason since the first time one of them had to pee
in the middle of the night. Back in their squat, Jason had sometimes told Tim
he was too skinny, but at the time Tim knows he *had* been too skinny. He's a
healthy weight, now, and putting on muscle too, though not at the rate Jason
is. It's still hard not to feel self-conscious.

"You coming to bed?" Jason murmurs, stretching again. He kicks the covers a
little, pushing them further down in invitation. All Tim's focused on is what
the movement does to his legs and abs, though, the arch of his hips as he
moves. He hums absently in agreement and hears Jason chuckle. "You look like
you're planning something."

It's only when he says it that Tim realizes he *is.* He smiles to himself and
climbs up onto the edge of the bed - not his own side, but Jason's. He sits on
his heels just below Jason's feet, his hands resting in fists on the blanket
beneath him. "I want to touch you."

Jason's eyes open a little more, and he grins. "Yeah?" He spreads his arms wide
in invitation. "You're lucky I'm such a nice guy. Always letting you get your
way."

"You're not too tired? Bruce made you run a lot."

Jason rolls his eyes a little. "Have you ever been too tired for a handjob?"

Tim can't imagine ever turning Jason down - they've only done this a dozen or
so times, and each and every moment of it has been amazing. They haven't done
more than touch, though, and Tim's been too shy to ask for more, but all he can
think right now is that if Jason had walked out on him this morning, Tim would
have spent the rest of his life regretting that shyness.

He wants everything from Jason - every touch and taste and part of him. Jason
is more experienced than he is, and Tim's been waiting for him to take things
further, show him how this works. But Tim doesn't want to wait, anymore, and if
Jason doesn't want this, he can stop him.

Tim reaches out and nudges Jason's ankles a little further apart. Jason looks
at him with amusement until Tim inches forward on his knees and runs his hands
up Jason's legs. He cups Jason's calves in his palms and watches his eyes go
from sleepy laughter to arousal - strokes Jason's knees with his thumbs and
feels his body shift. Jason lets out a long sigh of breath, and Tim moves
forward a little more, letting his hands come to rest on Jason's thighs.

"Fuck, you're hot," Jason murmurs. Tim smiles and shakes his head, but Jason
isn't having it. "I mean it. Your eyes get all dark - your hair's still wet."

"Wet hair turns you on?" Tim says, laughing a little. He shakes his head enough
to send tiny droplets flying. Some of them land on Jason's skin, leaving it
glistening.

"Messy," Jason says. His stomach quivers when the cool water hits it. Tim
decides to go with the sudden impulse that follows, leaning forward, bracing
himself on one hand beside Jason's hip. "Your hair's only messy when you - oh."

He breaks off when Tim's lips touch his stomach, and sucks in a sudden breath
that makes the muscles move under his skin. Tim touches the droplets with his
mouth, and then follows the motion with his tongue, feeling ridiculous but also
suddenly very sexual. He circles Jason's navel with the brush of his mouth and
nuzzles at the faint line of hair under it, breathing deep for the smell of
Jason's skin.

He closes his eyes and just lingers there until he feels the touch of Jason's
fingertips on the back of his neck. "Tim," he says, his voice barely more than
a whisper. When Tim looks up at him, over the flat expanse of his skin and the
ridges of muscle still new in their definition, Jason is looking back at him,
his expression dark and almost pained.

Tim shifts back a few inches, until he can see the outline of Jason's hardening
penis under his briefs. He doesn't let himself stop and think - thinking is the
*enemy* here, and it only ever makes him miserable when he tries it, so he just
bends and presses a light, closed-mouthed kiss to the cotton.

Jason hisses sharply, and his hand moves to cup Tim's shoulder, pushing him up
and tugging him forward. "You don't have to do that," he says quickly, sounding
almost angry. The tone makes Tim flinch. "No - I mean." He sighs, and his voice
goes soft. "Tim."

"I want to," Tim says, quiet as he can without whispering. It seems like
something he shouldn't say out loud, like a confession, an admission of guilt.
Jason's hand cups his cheek and he leans into the touch, eyes closing. "You
don't like oral sex?"

"Tim." His name is followed by a chuckle, and Jason's fingers spasm on Tim's
cheek. "*Everybody* likes - it's not that, okay? But you don't have to."

Tim's got one elbow on the bed and one hand at the top of Jason's thigh. He
moves his thumb, feeling the edge of Jason's underwear. His fingertips slide
under the elastic to feel the heat where Jason's leg joins his body. "I said I
want to," Tim insists. He bends down again, ignoring the way Jason's breath
catches, and kisses him again, his mouth open this time. All he can taste is
cotton, but he can *smell* Jason's arousal, and it makes his mouth water.

"I'm really..." Jason starts, and then squirms under Tim with a sigh. "I'd be
happy with a handjob. Really."

Tim smiles against the cotton and feels Jason *twitch* under his cheek. "You
don't sound very convincing. Or even *convinced*." When he opens his mouth
again, Jason pushes him away from his lap, making a frustrated sound. Tim's too
startled to push back, so he moves with the shove and touches his lips to
Jason's thigh instead, a chaste kiss, and then a wetter, softer one.

Jason's skin feels so good against his lips - smooth, with a just a faint
dusting of fine hair. He brushes kisses up his leg, just *feeling,* mostly, and
the hair is a little thicker at the tops of his thighs, the inside. Jason isn't
pushing him away anymore, just laying there breathing heavily, and he
*definitely* has an erection, so Tim just does what he wants for a while,
exploring to his heart's content. The position he's in hurts his back a little
after a few minutes, so he sits up enough to pull off the towel he's wearing
and stretches his legs out to lay down, pushing Jason's knees out of the way.

*That* makes Jason react. He moans, soft and muffled, as Tim's fingers brush
the hollows behind his knees. The sound is encouraging, so Tim bends his head
again and scrapes his teeth against the skin there, on the inside of Jason's
thigh just above his knee. Jason gasps, and his leg jerks in Tim's hold, so Tim
*bites* a little, thinking of how good it feels when Jason uses his teeth on
Tim's neck.

He's really kind of flying blind, using Jason's reactions to guide his
movements. Jason doesn't try to stop him again, so Tim continues, paying loving
attention to every inch of skin he can reach. He looks up after a few minutes,
but Jason's laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands clenched
into fists beside his hips, and that gives Tim the courage he needs to shimmy
up a few inches until he can reach Jason's lap again. He licks and sucks at the
skin just below the leg of Jason's briefs, starting at the outside of his thigh
and then working his way in, dragging his tongue along the elastic band until
his nose is pressed against Jason's balls. He breathes deep, and it's *his*
turn to moan, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet of their bedroom. Tim
opens his mouth and *sucks*, wanting to taste - *wanting.* He moans again and
shifts his hips against the sheets.

"Tim," Jason says, quietly, his voice rough and tight. "I meant it, okay? You
don't have to."

Tim moves his mouth up the shaft of Jason's erection, mouthing it through the
cloth. "And I meant it when I said I want to," he insists as he pulls back to
survey his handiwork. Jason's underwear is really kind of soaked. There's a wet
spot near the tip of his penis that Tim isn't responsible for, so he presses
his tongue there and hums at the taste. It's so much like the *smell* he's been
breathing that he moans again. He presses the head of Jason's penis between his
lips and feels the shape of it with his tongue.

That seems to be Jason's breaking point, because he sits up, suddenly, and
grabs Tim by the head and by the shoulder, pulling until they're face to face.
He looks...he looks like Tim's been doing something *awful* to him. Tim
flinches back from the look in Jason's eyes and tries to turn his face away,
but Jason isn't having it.

"Why did you let me?" Tim asks, his voice weak even to his own ears. "If you
don't want me to."

Jason sighs and presses his forehead to Tim's cheek. "Because I *do,* okay? I
just...shouldn't. You're really young, Tim."

Tim rolls his eyes and huffs at that, but inside, his mind is racing. 'Really
young.' What did that even mean? Jason's never used his age against him before
- never even brought it up. Why does it matter *now,* all of a sudden, that
Jason's a little older? "I'm old enough."

Jason breathes out and pulls back an inch, but he doesn't meet Tim's eyes. "Are
you?"

Tim kisses him, softly, and Jason's eyes slide closed. Tim pulls back and looks
at him for a few seconds, tracing the worry line on his forehead with his eyes.
He slides back down Jason's body, pressing his erection against Jason, letting
him *feel* how hard Tim is right now. "I want to suck you," he says when he's
between his legs again, and hears Jason breathe in sharply through his nose. He
grabs Jason's briefs by the waistband, pulling them down and away until Jason's
cock springs free, bobbing in the air and then rising, getting even harder. For
*him*.

Jason's hands come up to reach for Tim, but Tim grabs his wrists and pushes
them to the bed. It's nothing like a real pin, but Jason lets himself be held.

Tim and Jason are *partners* - that means *equals.* Tim's not too young. He's
*not*, and Jason shouldn't be thinking that way - not when Tim *knows* that
Jason's been doing this for years. Done it with men whose names he probably
didn't even know, let alone someone who *loved him*.

"I'm *going* to suck you," Tim says, his voice sure now.

"You really want to..." Jason trails off.

Tim laughs, hoarsely. "Jason, I've wanted to do this since the first time we
masturbated together. Since the first time I *smelled* you." He can hear Jason
breathing again, fast and hard. "I wanted. I wanted to roll over on that dirty
mattress and - and *taste* you. Make you - oh." Jason's hips buck suddenly, and
Tim breaks off to lick his lips.

Jason struggles against his hold, but Tim tightens his grip. After a moment he
lets out a sigh, his eyes drifting closed, and Tim can *see* him giving in.
"Jesus, Tim," he whispers.

He wants to make Jason feel good. He wants to have this part of him, his taste,
his *pleasure.* He wants...

He wants to be good at this. He wants Jason to think he's good at it. Good
enough. He... Tim shakes his head and lets go of one of Jason's wrists,
bringing that hand up to wrap around the base of Jason's erection.

This much he knows. This much is familiar. He's touched Jason like this before,
but never where he could see him up close like this. Usually - if that word can
even apply to something so new - usually they're face to face, standing in the
shower or laying together in bed. Tim gently slides the foreskin back, loving
the *glide*, the way Jason is suddenly *exposed*. Jason's penis is really kind
of *pretty* - wide, mushroom tip flushed pink, shaft slightly curved. Tim makes
a loose fist and squeezes, too lightly to give Jason any kind of satisfaction,
but enough to move his foreskin up and down when he strokes.

He bows his head and presses his lips to the side of the shaft, feeling the
soft skin there with parted lips. He moves his head and feels the glide and
drag of Jason's foreskin against his cock, just...shifting. Feeling it, for a
while, until Jason's free hand is fisting in the sheet and his hips are moving,
shallowly.

Tim pulls back and looks at him, trying to gauge his response and decide what
to do. He licks his lips and tastes Jason there, and that's enough to make him
groan. Jason's eyes fly open and he looks up at Tim, his eyes dark. Tim takes a
deep breath and lowers his head again. He wets his lips again and touches them
to the tip Jason's penis, letting them part around it.

Jason's head falls back, the sound escaping his throat a quiet keen unlike
anything Tim's heard him make before. He cradles the tip on his tongue, soft
and wet, helpless to do anything but moan as Jason's hips twitch and the
smooth, slick flesh slides against his tongue. The taste is heady - a little
bitter, a little salt. He wraps his hand more firmly around the base and
steadies himself on his elbow, his arm draped over Jason's hip, his other hand
still holding Jason's wrist.

He covers his teeth with his lips, careful, like it said on the internet, and
goes down, taking the whole head into his mouth and stroking the underside with
his tongue. God - the way it tastes - the way it *feels*, the slide over his
tongue, the press against his palette. There's a part of Tim that can't believe
he's actually *doing* this. He feels his mouth watering and swallows
reflexively with a moment's panicked thought about the possibility of
*drooling*. The contraction makes his tongue move, undulating against the
underside of the shaft, and - oh, Jason's hips jerk forward again, just a
little, and then draw back.

Jason's body is rigid under him with the tension of holding himself still. His
fists are clenched and his knuckles are white. Tim swallows again, trying to
draw out a reaction. He pulls back until he can hold just the head in his mouth
and *suck*, stroking the shaft with his fist at the same time.

Jason shudders and cries out. "God," he gasps, "Tim. You-" Tim sucks again, and
Jason seems to lose the thread of what he was trying to say. Tim feels the
corners of his mouth try to pull into a smile, but his *mouth* is full, so he
tightens his lips and goes down again, pressing with his tongue. "Fuck, yeah,
so *sweet.*"

Tim moans his agreement. That sets Jason off again, makes his hips buck,
whether it's the sound or the vibration. He does it again for the feel of it,
but Jason's got his reactions under control again, so Tim has to be the one to
press forward, taking a little more, until his mouth touches his fist.

God, he thought once he'd had his taste, that would be enough, that he could
slake his thirst for this, but he's realizing, now, that he's going to want
this *again* - this feeling, this taste, this flesh against his tongue. He
wants Jason *moaning* - wants the heat, the slide, the *throb* against his
lips. He sucks, hungry for the sounds Jason is making - faint, incoherent
curses, muttered praise that doesn't even make any sense. He tries to find a
rhythm and he *can't,* because he can't think, and he can't stop pushing
himself.

Jason's wrist turns in his grip and shifts until Jason is clutching his hand,
holding it. Tim clutches back, desperately. He sucks a breath in through his
nose and swallows before going down again. He squeezes Jason's shaft and then
lets him go, reaching down to cup his balls the way he's seen Jason do
sometimes when he masturbates. Jason makes that high sound again when he
squeezes, and it makes Tim moan too. His own cock is so hard it's aching, but
he can't bring himself to let go of Jason for an instant, so he lets his body
move against the bed, humping the sheets.

"Harder," Jason gasps, and Tim doesn't know if he means his hand or his mouth,
so he sucks and squeezes at the same time. It seems like the right response,
because Jason shouts, and the hand Tim's not holding comes up to cup the back
of his neck. Tim presses up against his hand and then goes down again, letting
Jason set a rhythm with gentle pressure. "Fuck, god, Tim, so good. Your
*mouth*."

Something tightens in Tim's chest with the praise. He drives forward, moaning
without pause, now, taking Jason as deep as he can, sucking, making it as wet
and tight as he can. His fears about drooling were apparently valid ones, but
he's not going to stop *now* to swallow, not with Jason gripping his hand hard
enough to bruise. Jason's fingers slide into his hair, stroking across his
scalp, and the feeling makes Tim shiver all over, makes him push himself until
he can feel his throat flutter and clench.

"Fuck!" Jason says, explosively. "No. God, I don't want - I don't want to
*hurt* you." Tim backs off, then. He *wants* to swallow him, to take him all
the way down, but Tim knows there's a difference between reading about
something on the internet and making his body *cooperate*. He should have
bought toys. He should have *practiced* - but how was he supposed to know he'd
meet someone like Jason? That he'd even *want* this?

"So...so *fucking* good," Jason breathes. His fingers tighten against Tim's
scalp on the next downstroke, until he forces himself to relax his grip. Tim
wants to tell him it's okay - that he can thrust if he wants, fuck his *mouth*
if he wants, but that would require letting go, pulling back for longer than it
takes to suck in a breath and go back down again.

And oh, every time Jason moans, every time he cries out, Tim feels it echo in
his chest. He whimpers like an animal and swallows again, sucks, works his
tongue, down and down until Jason *finally* clutches and thrusts up, and this -
this is what Tim *wanted*. This proof, undeniable, that Jason wants him. He
bobs his head faster, sucks harder, moans and moans as his orgasm builds,
thrusting against the bed, and then he's coming, his vision going white and
shimmering around the edges because he doesn't even want to stop to breathe. He
hears the sound he's making - muffled, broken - chokes as he loses all sense of
coordination, of what his body's doing.

"Fuck," Jason's gasping, "fuck, fuck," over and over. "So hot. God, you're-" he
sucks in a deep breath and lets it out in a wordless shout. He bangs their
joined hands against the bed, and then the hand in Tim's hair lets go. "I'm
gonna-"

Tim makes a very embarrassing noise and sucks harder. Jason's fingers find his
face - he's groping blind, now, his head thrown back, eyes shut - and there's a
moment where they're struggling against each other, Jason trying to urge him
back as Tim is trying to press forward, and then Jason's balls go tight in
Tim's hand and he *jerks* in Tim's mouth, his whole body shuddering with
tension as he comes, his semen slick and slightly bitter on Tim's tongue. He
holds on as long as he can, until Jason's body goes limp against the sheets,
and then he turns his face away as he lets him go, bracing hard on his arm as
he coughs and gasps for breath.

Jason's sitting up in an instant, his hands gentle on Tim's face and arm,
pulling him up. "Are you okay?"

Tim would reassure him if he could catch his breath. He holds up a hand
instead, trying to convey without words that no, he's fine, really, just
winded, and maybe he aspirated a little semen - no, he probably shouldn't be
trying to express that part. Jason looks awful as it is, worried, guilty - Tim
gets his diaphragm under control. "Fantastic," he says, and smiles.

Apparently that's not enough, though, because the worry doesn't leave Jason's
face. "I really didn't mean to-"

"Jay," Tim interrupts. Jason stops trying to talk and just looks at him with
apprehension in his eyes. "That was amazing, and I want to do it again. Often."

"But-"

"Did you miss the part where I came all over the bed without you even touching
me?" Jason blinks at him, his mouth parted slightly. Tim decides to be generous
and blame his shell-shocked expression on post-orgasmic stupor. "I liked it,
Jay. I *loved* it. I love making you feel good."

The look Jason gives him is strange, like maybe he doesn't believe Tim, despite
the obvious physical evidence. He almost looks...

Tim slides up the bed to lay beside him, bringing the tangled blankets with him
to cover them both. "Was I wrong?"

Jason seems to shake himself and turns his head to look at him. "What?"

"Wrong. Was I... You did like it? I thought you did, but if you didn't we don't
have to do it again, or you can tell me how to do it better next time-"

Jason's eyes get wider and wider until Tim finally trails off. Tim doesn't,
actually, know why Jason's looking at him like that, and it makes something
twist inside him. Maybe he hadn't made it very good after all. Maybe...Maybe
he'd pushed too hard. Tim doesn't actually know the details of Jason's sexual
history, except that most of it probably wasn't very pleasant.

The high he's been riding deflates. Jason's just laying there blinking at him,
not saying anything, and...well, Jason wouldn't say anything, would he? If it's
got something to do with his life before he met Tim, or the things he's had to
do to survive. He's made it pretty clear he wishes Tim didn't know about *any*
of that. "I'm sorry," Tim says, quietly.

"Sorry?" Jason echos, his voice rough. "You didn't - Tim, it was good."

Except for the part where Jason looks like it wasn't good at all, for reasons
other than the physical. Tim sighs and closes his eyes. He should have settled
for jerking Jason off.

When Tim opens his eyes, Jason has turned to face the ceiling, his eyes closed.
If he's not even going to kiss Tim goodnight, then Tim must have really upset
him. He doesn't know what to say, though, and he doesn't want to try and kiss
Jason if Jason doesn't want to kiss *him*, especially since his breath probably
smells like Jason's semen.

Tim sighs again. When Jason doesn't open his eyes, Tim rolls over to face the
wall, slipping one arm under the pillow to hold it close.

Jason doesn't put his hand on Tim's hip.

Tim closes his eyes.
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