He's whipped out all of his best culinary skills, and his smoothest moves. He's seducing Tim with words and delicious food and gentle touches.
Tim just can't stop blushing.
Part of that is because he's overwhelmed by the attention the Jason is paying him; his words, and looks, and the way he is insisting on feeding him by hand, calloused fingers so gentle on Tim's lips.
Part of that is because when Jason and Dick had invited him over for dinner, he hadn't been expecting to use an exquisitely bound, entirely naked Dick Grayson as a plate.
Dick is held entirely motionless by soft black ropes, crisscrossing his skin, outlining elegant patterns and sensitive areas. His skin glows against the mahogany wood of the table he is stretched out across, soft shadows cast by the warm light spilling from the overhead lamp and the candles scattered around the room.
The flat plane of his stomach looks soft and vulnerable framed in black, and the long line of his neck is equally revealed as his head rests against the table. He is entirely relaxed, stiller than Tim can ever remember seeing him.
When Tim had first seen him, he hadn't been able to hold back a gasp, surprise and a gut-kick of arousal. Dick had cracked his eyes open to look at him, the blue only a thin ring around the black of his blown pupils. Watched him with those eyes as Jason coaxed him in, closer, encouraged him to sit, to eat, choosing small morsels to tempt him with, trailing fingers along Dick's skin a he chose, and Tim could only watch, transfixed, and Dick remained motionless through all of it. Silent, still, and held there solely by Jason's will and a decoration of soft rope.
The strongest reaction Tim had seen so far was when Jason had leaned in to lick a bit of the sauce from the curry out of his belly button. Dick had moaned for that, sweet and broken, but he hadn't moved, hadn't disturbed the rest of the little feast laid out across his body, though Tim could see his muscles trembling from the effort.
Jason's expression had been heartbreakingly tender as he laid a finger across Dick's lips, smirk on his lips, but his heart in his eyes, when the finger was pulled between soft lips.
Tim stared. His lips tingled in combination of the spices in the food Jason had been feeding him, and and echo of *knowing* what those fingers felt like against his lips. He wanted to know what his own fingers felt like against Dick's lips, what Dick's lips would feel like against his own, or Jason's.
He wanted to know how it felt to be held motionless to the will of these men, how it felt to hold them still to his own will. He wanted to be in Dick's place, an object for their enjoyment, feeling the spices of the meal set his skin to tingling as he waited upon their pleasure. He wanted to be in Jason's place, to feed Dick from the broad planes of Jason's chest.
As they both turned their attention to him, Tim did not bother to suppress the anticipatory shiver. He had the feeling he would get all of that and more.