
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/790124.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU_-_Comicverse
  Relationship:
      Tim_Drake/Jason_Todd
  Character:
      Jason_Todd, Tim_Drake
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content
  Series:
      Part 15 of Kings_Among_Runaways
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-10-19 Words: 1544
****** Our Hands Tightly Holding ******
by glymr, iesika
Summary
     "Tim," he says quietly. He doesn't ask Are you sure? Doesn't second-
     guess Tim's desire. Doesn't push him away this time
He opens his eyes and Jason is there like he always is. Today he's already
awake and looking down at Tim with a little smile on his face.
"Good morning."
"Morning." Jason yawns and stretches. "Dibs on the shower," he says as he
slides out of bed.
Tim watches him go and listens idly as Jason goes through his morning routine.
When he hears the shower start, he sits up and silently slips out of bed as
well.
Jason's leaning back against the shower wall. He's got his eyes closed, and
he's angled the spray to run down over his neck and body, missing his face.
He's...
Tim swallows and steps silently into the room. Jason's eyes slit open and his
hand stills. Tim doesn't say anything, just walks up to him and puts his hand
over Jason's.
Jason kind of sighs and lets go to twine his fingers with Tim's for a moment.
His hand is slick.
Tim slides his fingers through and out of Jason's grasp. He wraps his hand
around Jason's dick and squeezes. Thinks about all the times he wanted to do
this, remembers feeling the short, sharp movements of Jason's arm next to him
in the darkness and listening to Jason's breath coming faster and wondering
what would happen if he just reached out and touched...
Jason sighs again and leans against the wall behind him. "Tim," he says
quietly. He doesn't ask Are you sure? Doesn't second-guess Tim's desire.
Doesn't push him away this time, just lets him touch and says his name like a
whispered prayer. "Tim."
Tim doesn't say anything. He searches Jason's face as he starts to move his
hand, starts to stroke. Watches him tilt his head back, bite his lip. Watches
his eyes slide shut and his breathing quicken.
He's always watched. First Batman, then Robin, and then Jason...so many times
he'd longed for his camera, sold long before they'd even met, to capture
Jason's smile, Jason's scowl, Jason's laughter...
Jason trails his hand down Tim's other arm and twines his fingers with Tim's
again.
Jason touches him with such casual, easy affection...he always has, even
before. A hand on his shoulder, fingers combing through his hair when Jason
wanted to tease him, a rough hug when Jason was feeling happy.
I motherfucking love you, kid.
Jason's always been protective of him, like he's somehow special, somehow
precious. At first Tim had just been another kid in trouble, but somewhere
along the way, he'd done something to make himself *important* to Jason. He's
not sure what he did. He wishes he knew, so that he could make sure to never,
ever undo it.
He squeezes and pulls gently, feeling the glide of skin over skin. It's
different, so different from touching himself, from anything he could have
imagined. He's fascinated by Jason's foreskin, slipping it up over the tip and
back, and every time he does Jason jerks and shudders and makes a wordless
noise that sounds like 'more' or 'please'. Some part of him is amazed that his
hands aren't shaking, that he's not uncomfortable, or frightened, or the least
bit confused anymore.
Even at his parents' house, it had never felt easy, never felt quite right
regardless of whether his parents were there or not. The closest was in his
darkroom, his own private place, beautiful images of Batman and Nightwing
coming to life under his hands and the strong smell of the developer fluid
making him lightheaded. To this day that odor alone could probably make him
hard.
It had been closer with Jason. Tim tries to find the rhythm from all those
nights lying back to back, echoing each others' movements, sharing the same
air, rank with sweat and dirt and mildew, and none of it mattered, because they
were close, so close...
Jason arches and makes a sound.
"Like this..." Tim whispers.
"Yeah," says Jason. "A little...faster...yeah, like that," he says as Tim
quickens his pace. "Don't...don't stop..."
Tim won't stop, won't ever stop, as long as Jason wants him...
Jason's breath catches and he thrusts and Tim tightens his grip, letting Jason
push into his fist again and again and--
--and Jason's coming, spilling over his hand and stumbling forward to wrap his
arms around Tim and lean on him as he tries to catch his breath. "Tim," he
gasps, and kisses him.
Tim holds him and kisses back, feeling a shivering sensation in his stomach,
heat in his mouth, his chest, his groin..."Jason," he hears himself whispering
between kisses, "Jay."
"Yeah," says Jason, and gently turns them around, pushing until Tim's back is
against the wall and kissing him hard. Tim feels himself shuddering, and
suddenly he's thrusting mindlessly against Jason's thigh until Jason catches
his dick in one hand and, reaching clumsily with the other, he grabs the bottle
of conditioner he was using before and dumps more onto his hand and Tim's penis
together.
The stuff has a pleasant smell, not too flowery and not too chemical, and Tim
*knows* that from now on he'll always associate it with sex, even more than
developer fluid, because Jason's hand is gripping and sliding and
squeezing..."God," gasps Tim, his knees buckling. Jason catches him, wrapping
an arm around him and holding him up with one hand as he strokes with the
other.
It's...it's luxurious how slick it is...He's made do with water and spit and
nothing at all on a lot of occasions...Jason's hand, coated and slippery, feels
like the most decadent thing in the world, like it's too good to be true,
like's it's everything...
...everything he's ever wanted...
He presses his face against Jason's chest, muffling the sounds he's making in
Jason's skin...
...and Jason's sinking them to the floor, bracing Tim against his own body and
jerking him fast and hard and perfect...
"Need you," he hears himself whispering, whimpering. "Don't...don't leave..."
"'m not going anywhere. You're stuck with me now."
Stuck with him, and something tightens in his chest, makes him want to sob,
even as he feels laughter filling his throat at the ludicrousness of the very
idea of ever being *stuck* with Jason...
"J-Jay," he chokes out, caught between laughter and tears.
"I'll never leave you," whispers Jason...
...and the words sear through him, sharp and hot, and Tim cries out and arches,
jerks, spilling over Jason's hand in surge after surge of white heat. Jason's
hand is still on him, and Tim screams and shakes because it's so much, it's too
much...
Jason gives him one last squeeze and stills.
Tim has no idea how long they sit like that, warm water beating down on them
soothingly as his breathing and heart both gradually slow again. Finally Tim's
leg starts to cramp up and he has to, regretfully, reposition himself. He
smiles up at Jason and gets a smile in return.
"Okay?" says Jason.
Tim grins at him. "Adequate," he replies. Jason just snorts and rolls his eyes.
Tim reaches up and touches his face, stroking along the cheekbone.
Jason turns his head and kisses his palm, then looks into his eyes. "What are
you thinking about?"
"I'm wondering how many other people you've done this with." Not for money, but
he's pretty sure he doesn't have to say that part.
Jason's quiet for awhile. Eventually he gets up and gets the soap and starts
scrubbing down, and Tim thinks he's decided not to answer until he says, "There
were a few...I had a few fuckbuddies, I guess you'd call it." He glances at Tim
and his lips quirk. "Well, *you* wouldn't. Some of them taught me a few things.
Mostly we were just trying to keep...warm. Sometimes, after a night
out...sometimes we just wanted to...be with someone. It didn't really matter
who. I...it wasn't like...this. They weren't..." he smiles at Tim and shrugs.
Tim nods and reaches for the shampoo.
"I haven't with anyone...since I met you."
Tim freezes. "Oh," he says, his breath catching in his chest. He swallows
against the feeling and numbly completes the motion, his hand closing around
the bottle.
"I mean, how could there've been? You've been sleeping in my bed from the day
we *met*." Jason's obviously trying for a light tone, but it's nothing but the
truth. He blows out a breath and finishes washing, then steps out of the shower
and reaches for a towel. He wraps it around his waist, then turns back, gazing
at Tim with a serious expression on his face. "I've done a lot of stuff," he
says. "I'm not really sure what you're...supposed to be doing. I mean, at your
age. My age. I..." He trails off and combs a hand through his hair impatiently,
almost losing his towel for a moment. "I'm never gonna push you, okay Tim? I
mean, I want you, you know that, right? I just...I can't be the one who..." He
trails off and looks away.
Tim stares at him for several long seconds, then drops the shampoo bottle and
steps out of the shower to wrap his arms around Jason and hold onto him as
tightly as he can.
 
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