Warnings: explicit sexual content; unhealthy relationship; arguing couple; rough sex
Pairings: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Summary: In the middle of a safehouse garage, Tim and Jason butt heads about a mission gone wrong. Neither of one of them willing to admit their faults, it becomes a quick matter of who will stand their ground. This time, Tim isn't going to give in.
Or: I wanted to write Top Tim/Bottom Jason car sex
Or: A loving tribute to Jason Todd's pecs
Credits: This is a non-profit, fanmade work. All characters are owned by DC. This fanfiction was written and created by me.
A/N: what's the point of being in a fandom with giant bara men if no one is going to write some tiddy fucking
for the sake of convenience, Tim is aged up to legal age in this story. This takes place in New 52 era but I brought back Tim's car (the Red Bird).
I wanted the sex in this fic to be pretty aggressive so small content warning for arguing/fighting couple. Also some fucky brujay undertones, if you squint.
another content warning for the bad title.
I really don't have much more to say. it's all porn. enjoy.
The dark tunnel opened up into the safehouse, the bright fluorescents burning Tim's eyes. He didn't flinch. He kept his face forward, his expression stiff, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
Tim didn't even have the patience to park on the platform. He occupied the first space he could find, the Red Bird's wheels squealing to a harsh stop.
"Get out."
"You're not getting rid of me that easy," Jason said, voice low behind the red hood.
Tim didn't have the patience. He lost it roughly somewhere between Jason interrupting his investigation and nearly getting them killed in the following car chase. Tim's hand moved to the emergency lever.
"You can either step out or I will eject you ten feet into the air. Your choice."
Tim heard a low exhale. Jason was pissed too—because he always thinks he's right, Tim thought. It was that particular trait that drove Tim up the wall. But amazingly, Jason complied.
The vehicle shook under the power of the car door slamming shut. Tim still felt tension running down his body, his heart jolting at the sound. Fiery hot anger brewed inside of him, making his stomach twist. He put his hand on the gear shift, ready to speed out of there, but there was a sudden squeak.
Tim's head snapped up, and he damn near screamed when he saw Jason sitting on the hood of his car. Tim nearly deployed the defense mechanism, but his common sense won out. As fun as it'd be to watch Jason get his ass electrocuted, and as deserving it would be, it could be dangerous.
Tim was just going to have to roll up his sleeves for this one.
The seatbelt clicked undone, making a zipping sound as it retracted, the buckle clacking off the interior. Tim stepped out—and admittedly felt disappointed when his slam of the car door didn't echo at the same volume as Jason's.
"Get off my car."
Jason took his time tugging off the hood, tufts of hair splayed out in every direction. Tim's heartbeat accelerated, feeling that familiar urge to pat down Jason's hair and laugh, like they did after every patrol together. And a realization set in—that he could do that. That putting this whole crazy night behind them was still an option. That they could just be thankful that they were both still alive.
"You're not getting rid of me that easy," Jason said again, voice darker this time, and Tim realized he felt the same way.
And so his bitterness held on.
"I hope you're happy that a murderer walked tonight because of you," Tim said.
"Nuh-uh. Not because of me, because of you," Jason said. He tossed the hood at Tim's feet with a sound. Tim didn't flinch. "You got a sugar daddy hooking you up with the best goddamned horsepower in the entire world and you can't catch some fucker in a sleeper car?"
"Excuse me for not accelerating us a hundred and thirty miles-per-hour to our deaths," Tim said. He could hear his voice rising. "There was traffic, Jason. Innocent people. I'm not going to dive between cars and—"
"And what, catch the guy?" Jason waved a dismissive hand. "I still don't see how this is my fault. Face it. You're not mad at anyone but yourself."
"Oh, please…"
"If you just had the guts to buck up and do your job, then you would have had him."
Tim felt like he no longer had control of the reins. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, his entire body bristling with anger and irritation. He could hear his rational side chanting control yourself, control yourself, don't give him your anger, don't give anyone that satisfaction, but he couldn't contain it. His heart was beating against his chest, through his ears.
Every time. They had to go through this every time. No matter how many good days they had, no matter what they said or how well they got along, they'd always end up at a fork where Jason wanted to go up and Tim wanted to go down. And if there was one thing that Tim couldn't stand, it was that the job was always the source of every argument.
Because when it came to the job, Tim knew they both were never going to relent. Never going to compromise. Never going to justify or explain themselves or make excuses. Tim was always going to do things his way and Jason was going to be Jason.
"You wouldn't have hit anyone. If you had just cut through—"
"Shut up," Tim said at once. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't."
"The Red Bird is the smallest vehicle the team has. It has a 62 inch span. You're supposed to dive in with it—"
"No, you're not, it's a defense mechanism. It's small so it can run fast—"
"So it can chase fast."
"It's my car! You can't tell me what it's built for! I was behind the wheel, not you!"
"Well, no shit. That's why he got away."
"I can't listen to this anymore. Get off the car or I'll just back it up," Tim said, marching back to the driver's side.
As fast as Tim had opened the door, Jason was next to him and slamming it back shut.
The sound seemed to reverberate through the air. Tim stopped, glaring down at the arm next to him, listening the sound fade into silence.
"Got no one to blame but yourself, Timmy."
Tim's eyes narrowed. He could feel Jason's breath hitting his ear, that harsh—sometimes damn near grating—East End accent hitting him word by word. The kind of accent that Tim's parents would quietly smirk at, because it spoke of the type of character that someone of their class would never have to deal with.
"Neither of us are leaving until you apologize."
And Tim knew. Of course he knew.
He was 5'6" and even if he doubled his weight, he probably couldn't measure up to Jason. Jason was a monolith of a man, with a killcount to boot, and regularly defied Batman's orders for funsies.
But Tim also knew he wasn't afraid of Jason.
And if there was one thing Tim knew without any doubt, it was that he had invested a lot of time into this investigation, and he was never going to roll over for anyone who wasted his time. Anyone.
Not so much thinking as he was acting on instinct, Tim grabbed Jason's arm. Trained practice taking precedence over rational thought, like he was fighting a goddamned enemy, he flipped their positions and pushed Jason back against the car door.
Jason's back hit the metal with a dull thud. He stared Tim down, stunned into silence.
Tim breathed, looking into the face that stared, wide-eyed, back at him. It took that expression for Tim to finally doubt himself—his anger wavering, his chest fluttering with nerves. He shouldn't have done that. He took it too far.
Then Jason made a soft, amused sound. He flicked his nose with his thumb, eyes shifting away.
Trying to brush Tim off. Like how he always brushed him off. Like how he always brushed everything off.
"I'm not apologizing," Tim decided.
"That's too bad. Because I'm not letting you leave."
"Yes, you are—"
"Make me."
At that, Tim was taken aback. He stammered, "What?"
Tim didn't even finish blinking by the time Jason had a hand around each wrist. Tim's heart was beating fast, anticipating the next move, but Jason just lowered his head. Looked him directly in the face.
"This is why no one takes you seriously."
The words struck him directly in the chest. Tim's gaze darted towards the floor, his face burning. With anger, with embarrassment, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was upset because he had admitted that fear to Jason in confidence. He didn't share it so it could be used against him.
But who was the idiot here, Jason for turning friends into enemies like he always did, or Tim for trusting him in the first place?
"You just expect everyone to fall in line, to do what they're supposed to do, because that's what you do. Face it. No one gives a shit how nice you are, how smart you think you are—no one wants to take direction from a guy who doesn't push. You're not a leader, like Batman, you're a follower."
"You're the one that fucked up tonight, not me. I had him and you ruined it by barging in." Tim tried to pull his hands back but Jason tightened his grip, hard enough to bruise, and forced him back in place.
"You can't even stand up to Robin and he's just a kid—"
"Shut up—"
"That's why you got replaced. Why the fuck would someone like Dick take you seriously when you don't even have the guts to fight back for what's yours? Admit it, you didn't become Red Robin because it was who you had to be. You were hoping Dickie would ask for you to come back."
Flashback to earlier in the night. They were fighting against a horde of guards. Jason took a pipe to the left side, near the obliques. Padding wasn't as strong on the sides of his suit. Allowed for more flexibility that way. Jacket usually covered the weak spot but had gotten caught at the wrong time.
Tim was betting it was bruised.
And he was thinking he got it right when he tore his hands back, closed palm coming down hard on the spot, a flicker of strain spreading across Jason's face.
It didn't satisfy Tim. Made him sick, to be honest. Might have felt guilty if his wrists didn't ache from Jason's touch. He had it coming, he tried to tell himself, but that was Jason's way, not Tim's way, so the reasoning was hard to swallow. He didn't want to fight. Jason crossed a line. But he didn't want to fight.
Tim backed away a single step. Jason's eyes opened, watching Tim closely, this unusual look in his expression—like he was waiting, waiting to see what Tim would do next. Tim didn't understand that look. What, was he expecting Tim to do more damage than he had already done? Was shoving him, hitting him, not enough?
Tim should have told him to move. That was the goal, to leave this garage. To put this behind him so they could move forward. The worst thing to do would be to fight. But he couldn't take away the sting of Jason's words. He couldn't stop looking at Jason's eyes that seemed to challenge him, seemed to say, you don't have it in you.
"You'll blame everyone in the world before you take share of what's yours. Tonight was your fault and you know it."
The words come out of him with such force that he felt almost breathless. Jason's expression was unfazed, eyes following him. Tim pushed harder. Needed to strike him where it hurt.
"You're not angry at anyone but yourself. And you're right, I'm not Batman—meaning I didn't do shit to you, so I don't have to feel sorry for you. I don't have to let you guilt me in allowing your stupid, trigger-happy temper tantrums—"
"All I said was that you weren't a leader." Jason finally straightened himself, his hand leaving his side. His expression mocking. "I actually think you and Batman have a lot in common—you're both rich, paranoid, anal-retentive freaks."
"So what does that say about you? Since we're fucking and all."
There was a flicker of something heated in Jason's eyes. Jason didn't quip back, his jaw clenched. And for once, it seemed to Tim that Jason was holding himself back from going too far, from screaming something he'd regret. Tim took his victories where he could and didn't allow Jason a second to recollect himself. He felt in control again.
"Move," he said to Jason, stepping back in, managing to slip his hand past Jason to grasp the handle.
Jason tilted his head toward Tim, back still pressed against the door, weighing it shut.
"That's kinda fucked, Timmy."
Tim turned his head upwards to face Jason.
"You brought him into this. You brought all of them into this."
"But you've always been into weird shit," Jason said, not listening.
It should be a slight—but Tim knew that Jason's words were crawling under his own skin worse than Tim's. Tim knew that he had him.
"You like me sick."
Jason looked at him. Really looked at him. Not dismissively. Not even angrily. He looked at Tim like he was studying him. Jason wasn't all instinct—his methods were unconventional, but he had his ways of being tactical. He was up to something.
"Makes it easier," Tim said. His tone had soothed. Then he realized his heart wasn't racing nearly as fast, fading into a steady pulse. He felt sure again. Confident. "Because if I'm sick, then you don't have to be. You can just call me the weird one."
"Come on." Jason's voice is low, his hand reaching to touch Tim's arm but hovering above it, fingertips grazing against but not quite touching. Not holding.
"No," Tim said, jerking away, voice rising in indignance. He just wanted to go to his safehouse and bury himself in all the extra work Jason made for him. At the very least, he wanted to go home and sulk about the argument. "This is your fault. And you were rude."
"It wasn't my fault," Jason said, their volumes matching.
"You interrupted."
"You could have chased," Jason said, scrubbing his face with his hands.
"Are you kidding me? That again? I should punch you right now."
"You've tried throwing me around enough."
"Get out of my way!" Tim said, hand tightening around the handle. To his surprise, Jason caught him.
Both hands on his chest, Tim was pushed backwards a few steps. Recovering, Tim wrangled his hands around Jason's wrists, glaring up spitefully at him. Before he could blink, Jason caught him hard by the mouth.
The kiss was forceful, a short press that was more intensity than passion. Just as fast, Tim pulled away, staring up at Jason incredulously.
That kiss had to have been a distraction—but that wasn't right. Distraction was never Jason's style. He'd rather rush in, headfirst, and he never danced around. So what was the catch?
Tim shoved Jason hard, back toward the car. But when he did, he looked Jason in the eye and felt a flash of uncertainty. Jason's eyes were equally intense, equally antagonizing, and all at once, everything became clear.
Was he getting off on this? Was this whole thing just a sham?
"This isn't some game," Tim said, betrayed by the whisper of his own voice.
"Then why's it so much fun to piss you off?"
Jason reached for him again, hands on his waist, pulling him in. Tim instantly grabbed them, yanking them away.
Tim's mind was processing a hundred thoughts per minute. He looked at the red metal that Jason was rested against and decided that he needed to be in that car. He should have already been back at his private safehouse, trying to pick up the trail of this criminal. If he had done that sooner instead of getting in this stupid argument, this argument that even Jason wasn't taking seriously, maybe he'd have even caught the guy—
He could still feel the trace of Jason's kiss on his lips. The whole thing—it was so stupid, Tim could laugh. Jason, he was just provoking him, just trying to get under his skin. But how far would he take it? How long could they keep up this push and pull?
The funny thing about anger was that it could be so damn exciting. Tim's heart was beating fast, adrenaline itching under his skin. An hour ago, they were racing down Gotham, the speed dial climbing seventy, eighty, ninety—so fast that Tim couldn't breathe, so fast he could feel the strain of his heart with each terrified squeeze.
Minutes ago, they were fighting. Yelling and prodding and shoving. Tim could still feel the shakiness in his body, rage lingering under his skin, heat in his face.
Seconds ago, Jason was kissing him. Challenging him, mocking him, or maybe—
The criminal got away. It was Jason's fault. Despite these facts, or maybe because of these facts, Tim still had his hands wrapped around Jason's wrists instead of the carhandle. Something was keeping Tim standing there instead of running for the nearest exit.
Tim just breathed for a moment. He could feel the way his own breath shook and shuddered, filled with agitation. The whole time, Jason's eyes were piercing into his.
Damn. He didn't want this.
He didn't want them to just fuck and forget. He cared about this case. He had committed time and effort.
But he was sick of fighting too. God, they could have died that night—wasn't that why he stopped the car, because living was more important than a criminal they could catch another day?
Jason moved in for another kiss. Tim's hand caught him, gloved fingers covering his mouth. Tim held him there for what must have only been a second. He breathed out and in that single exhale, he could feel his heartrate spiking. Picking up again.
Damn.
He forcefully tilted Jason's head away, ducking in to taste the sliver of flesh between Jason's jawline and the collar of his shirt. Jason's breath was hot against Tim's gloved hand. Teeth grazed against Jason's throat. Jason pulled Tim in closer, Tim's teeth sunk in.
Confidence surging, Tim's hurried hands slipped underneath Jason's jacket. Jason shrugged it off, lips meeting Tim's again. It wasn't like the last kiss—hard and forceful, more teeth than lips. This time, Tim could feel the warmth of his mouth, the surprising softness of his lips, the heat of Jason filling his mouth with his tongue.
Tim pulled away, abrupt. Didn't even realize he was holding his breath until they already parted, lips wet. Jason's hands dove for Tim's belt. Tim looked down, watched as Jason unclipped it with practiced movements. It dropped to the floor with a clatter and Tim felt the relief of its weight. Jason's hands never stopped moving. Thumbs hooked in Tim's pants.
Tim felt a sudden flare of heat, rising from his chest to his skin. He forcefully shoved Jason back.
Jason seemed surprised but not unpleased. He put his hands in the air in surrender, his mouth lengthening into a well-humored smirk.
"We're not doing this your way."
"And what's my way?"
"The only time you're ever in such a hurry to get my clothes off is when you want to bend me over."
"Well, shit, don't give me ideas." Jason nodded before Tim could snap. "So what's your way?"
Would Jason believe him if he said he hadn't thought that far ahead? It was an instinctual reaction when Jason's hands touched his skin, a surge of unexpected indignance that had risen up inside of him—Tim didn't know what he wanted, all he knew was that he wasn't going to strip fast, fuck fast.
Jason leaned back on the car. His hands moved to his own belt. Without the jacket in the way, Tim could see where Jason's shirt hugged the muscles of his torso and arms. A thumb hooked under the clasp of the belt buckle and damn, that alone looked so good that taking his clothes off would almost be a shame. Almost.
"How do you want it, Tim? You wanna ride me?" Jason said, voice low and stroking.
It was almost tempting. Them, on the hood of the car, Jason's cock splitting him in half. Jason was a real trashmouth, sure, but Tim didn't always have to bite back to make him cave. Sometimes, Tim could work Jason so good that he'd melt. It was real tempting, with Jason standing there, muscular and cocksure. If the decal of the vehicle underneath Jason had been black with batwings, it would have even fulfilled one of Tim's ultimate fantasies.
But Tim was thinking over his options and he was thinking fast. He hadn't made up his mind entirely, no, but he knew one thing.
"I want to fuck you."
Jason considered this, his hand now slipping toward his groin. Tim could see the shape of him pressing against the seam of his pants, resting underneath his hand. Tim could already envision Jason's erection, hard and pointing. Jason wasn't outright rejecting the idea, it seemed, but Tim found himself questioning his own suggestion as he watched Jason squeeze himself through his pants.
Tempting.
It wasn't their usual way, which was probably why Jason was thinking it over. Tim was into everything. He could easily switch back and forth—but he wasn't certain Jason was the same. Jason could be surprisingly private, including with what he did behind closed doors when no one was around. Jason fucking himself on his fingers was a nice thought, but a thought that Tim wasn't sure if he could envision. Maybe that's why his mind gravitated toward the idea of fucking Jason—to push him, to see if he'd do it anyways or if he'd finally back down.
There was room for a lot of discussion but Tim could feel his certainty growing. I want to fuck you. Those were his words, so he was going to do it. He was going to fuck Jason. He was going to get deep inside of him and fuck him. He was going to hold him down and do what he wanted.
"What, nervous?" Tim said, testing for his reaction. Jason's gaze darted back up at him. "I've fucked you before."
"Nah, just wondering." Tim caught a hint of teeth as Jason looked down at the car, patting it. "Can't tell if this thing's low enough."
A short joke. Cute. But Tim could see through the mischief.
"Then what's the holdup? Since you were in such a hurry earlier, why don't you get us ready?"
Jason, without the look of a quitter, got off the car. His hand reached between Tim's legs. There was no hesitancy in his movements, no teasing. His palm was flushed against the seam of Tim's pants and he was gripping him, hand massaging Tim through his clothing. Tim fought back a groan as Jason handled him, hand squeezing and squeezing. Tim didn't even realize how much he craved Jason's touch until his hand was already on him.
"Seems like you're plenty ready to me. Barely even touched you," Jason said, his voice heated and low. Tim tensed under Jason's groping hand. Tim couldn't argue—Jason had him heated and excited already. He could feel his cock aching in the confines of his clothing. It was difficult to resist bucking into Jason's hand, to feel more, to chase after that touch—but he did resist. He could see the lust in Jason's darkened gaze. Jason wanted Tim needy and wanting. Tim wasn't going to give him that. Not easily. "You really want to fuck my ass, don't you? You want to stick your cock inside?"
The filthy words rolled off of Jason's tongue so easily.
"Get on your knees and take it out," Tim said, strength in his voice.
Jason didn't even offer up a smart comment. He got to his knees, hands reaching for Tim's pants.
"Not me," Tim said, Jason's fingertips barely brushing against him.
At that, Jason stopped, clearly thrown off.
"Come on," Tim said. Despite Jason's insults, Tim knew he could command just fine, and the force of the words behind his voice felt natural.
Jason only faltered for a moment. He lifted his head just for the sole purpose of looking Tim in the eye, to reassure him that he was still in the game. He unclipped his own belt, the buckle clamoring, and slipped his clothing over his hips, down his thighs, to his knees. Tim could feel a stirring inside of him, heat pooling in his groin, hunger rising as he looked at Jason's thick cock hanging between his legs, flushed dark and erect. He wanted to take him in his hand, in his mouth.
Tim didn't realize he had been staring until Jason snapped him out of it.
"You're going to watch me finger myself? That's pretty perverted, Tim."
"I want you nice and open for me."
Tim watched as Jason pulled off his gloves. Tim loved Jason's hands—the roughness of the calluses, the large knuckles. He found something really masculine about them. He could feel his own cock pulsing as he watched Jason suck on his own fingers, getting them wet.
From where Tim was standing, he could look over Jason's shoulder, watch as his hand moved to his ass, his finger slipping down the crease and disappearing into his body. There was a short, barely audible stutter in Jason's breath. Tim's ears picked up on it, his heart racing.
Tim could feel his arousal growing as he watched Jason start to finger himself. His own hands moved toward his pants, lowering them past his hips. He felt the cool air brush against his erection. He touched himself, his cock swelling in his hand. It felt good, almost relieving, to finally touch it. To add pressure, to wrap it in his hand.
His cock was level with Jason's face. Tim stepped forward and without even saying anything, Jason leaned in, his hot breath fanning against Tim's erection. Jason mouthed at Tim's balls. Tim openly groaned at the sensation, his head falling forward to watch as Jason took him into his mouth. He grabbed Jason by the hair, pulling him to the tip of his cock. Jason's lips parted, his wet tongue pressing against the tip. Tim bit back a curse, heat rushing to his face when Jason's tongue serviced his cock, licking from the base to the tip.
"Stop teasing," Tim said, his voice harsh and breathy. He didn't even allow Jason to quip back, pushing his cock inside.
Jason's mouth was hot and wet, his lips instantly closing tight around Tim. Tim bobbed Jason's head on his cock, the pace even, never going too deep. Tim's breath quickened, lost in the sensation of Jason's tongue and lips on his erection, the pleasure going straight to his head. But every stroke, every thrust, fuelled the greed growing hot inside of him. He was going to fuck Jason. He was going to fuck his face, his ass. He was going to make him feel him.
Through heavy lidded eyes, he looked down. He could see the subtle movements of Jason's wrist, the finger buried deep inside, down to the knuckle. He watched the rhythmic, almost hypnotic, movements of the finger thrusting inside. In and out. In and out.
Tim thrust his cock into Jason's mouth, building up a pace. He moaned in content, the sound grumbling from deep inside his throat, as he slid in and out, the wet sounds of Jason's sucking filling the air.
"Spread your legs more," Tim breathed. "Open yourself up for me."
Jason did, knees moving apart on the hard concrete. Tim felt his cock swell in Jason's mouth as he watched a second finger start to push inside. Jason tensed up, the sucking movements on Tim's cock faltering, as his fingers began to slip deeper inside. Heat rushed over Tim's body, his face and ears and chest on fire, his cock aching. God, that was hot. So hot.
By the time Jason had two fingers deep inside of him, Tim was thrusting into his mouth again. Long strokes of his cock ran across Jason's tongue. The sounds of Jason's mouth increased in frequency. Tim's cock was so wet he could slide in and out with ease. Tim's gaze travelled from Jason's body back to his face.
There Jason was, on his knees, thighs spread, two fingers deep in his ass, his mouth working on a cock, and his eyes looking straight up at Tim—fuck, Tim thought with a shudder, unable to tear away his gaze. Jason had this knack of making the simplest things feel extra dirty.
Tim threaded his fingers through Jason's hair, pulling him in. He watched his cock slide past Jason's lips, burying deeper inside of Jason's mouth. Jason let Tim move him, use him. Let Tim guide him as he fucked his mouth, over and over, building a rhythm.
Jason's gaze lowered, eyes falling shut in concentration as Tim fucked his mouth a little faster, a little harder. Each wet, filthy, sucking sound seemed to grow louder each time Tim drove his cock inside, and it got him fired up more and more.
"God, Jason," he breathed. He had nothing more to say. No snarky remark or dirty phrase. Saying his name was enough.
Jason looked so good, his cheeks hollowed, a cock thrusting in and out of his mouth. He took it without complaint. If only everything with Jason was this easy, this perfect.
Tim's movements built up. He was fucking Jason's face harder, faster. The feel of Jason's lips sliding up and down his cock, that steady pleasure that stroked him over and over—it built up the heat inside of him, the pleasure in Tim's body. Still, Tim wanted more. He grabbed Jason by the hair, hard, dragging him toward his body. He pushed his cock in as deep as it could go, breaching his tight throat.
"Hold it there," Tim said with a growl, gloved fingers twisting in Jason's hair, digging into his scalp. Jason held still, his throat clenching around Tim's cock, sputtering as he tried to keep him in deep. Tim's eyes nearly rolled back, savoring how wet and tight Jason was. Groaned as he felt the tight passage convulse around him. Then he released.
Jason pulled off, trying not to breathe fast, trying not to let Tim know how rough he had been, but Tim could see it in the way his chest staggered as it rose and fell. Jason's lips were wet and glistening, his face flushed. But restless as ever, Jason turned his head, giving attention to Tim's balls, tongue and lips moving, almost kissing, against the sensitive flesh. Tim exhaled softly, hand slipping to Jason's nape, pulling him in closer. Feeling that warm, soft mouth, his cock pointing and pulsing against Jason's cheek. The flat of Jason's tongue worked him over, the sensation almost relaxing.
Tim caught his breath and he let Jason catch his. Then he grabbed Jason again, pushing in. He could hear Jason breathe in, just as Tim drove in. Jason's nose was pushed against Tim's groin, as far as he could go. Tim groaned loud, the sensation mindblowing. He moved his hips, the tip of his cock stroking the back of Jason's throat, Jason's throat tightening up around him, swelling. He coughed when Tim pulled out.
Tim's cock was so wet. He stroked it a few times, mixing Jason's saliva over his shaft. Jason was trying to even out his breath.
"Come on, don't stop," Tim said, nudging Jason's knee with his boot. As if remembering, Jason pulled out his fingers, spitting in his hand. He started to work inside of himself again, the fingers plunging into ass.
"You want more?" Jason said, the huskiness to his voice only making Tim more aroused.
Tim didn't say anything, at risk of letting on exactly how much he wanted more. He pulled Jason back onto his cock. He fucked Jason's face, hands holding his head in place as he thrusted into his mouth. Jason stayed on his knees, the sound of his mouth louder than it had ever been.
Tim loved the feel of Jason's hot, wet mouth. Loved the way Jason moaned around his cock as he fingered his ass. Tim's whole body felt hot. It was difficult to control his voice, to contain himself.
If he wasn't careful, he was going to come. Tim was usually pretty good about knowing his limits, knowing how to control himself, but everything about Jason made him want to get carried away. He wanted to fuck Jason's mouth until he came. Wanted to fill Jason's mouth up with his seed. Make him swallow it or spit it up. Jason would do it, too. No matter how much Jason teased Tim for being the weird, sick pervert, Tim knew Jason could be just as nasty as him.
Tim forced Jason off of his cock.
"Get up," Tim said, pulling Jason off the ground. He led Jason, their boots scraping and stumbling across the concrete floor, to the car. Jason leaned back on the hood, kicking off his clothes, straps and belt changing as they slipped down his legs, boots falling onto the ground with soft sounds. The clothes hadn't even hit the ground yet before Tim moved in, hands wrapped around Jason's massive thighs, thumbs digging into muscle.
Jason laid back on the hood of the car. When he was displayed like this, Tim could see the span of his chest, the bulge of his muscles. Simply put, Jason was a whole lot of man. A lot more than Tim. But that didn't scare Tim. It filled him with this greedy sort of lust. He was going to make Jason his. All of him.
Tim watched, heart beating fast as Jason's hand slipped between his legs, fingers holding himself open for Tim. His eyes seemed to egg Tim on, to provoke him, but there was a trace of genuine desire. Tim could make Jason ask for it, if he had the patience, but he had waited long enough.
Tim was surprised by his own impatience. It was as if something magnetic was drawing him to Jason. His breaths were short, tinged with desire. He could see Jason, his face and chest flushed, the tip of his cock glistening with precum.
"I'm going to fuck you now," Tim said. He could barely recognize his own voice, dripping with lust.
Jason cursed loudly, his voice breaking into a long groan as Tim started to breach him, his cock pushing and pushing. Tim gritted his teeth, his brow furrowing. Jason was so tight. Tim's gaze was intensely fixated on where their bodies met. He watched as his cock pressed further, further inside, Jason's hole opening up to take him in.
God, it really had been too long. Jason was vice tight, inner walls squeezing hard. Tim could see the strain in Jason's face, could see the way his body rose and fell with each breath. The sounds of Jason's voice sounded uncharacteristically shaky and desperate.
A thought crossed Tim's mind. He should stop this. Jason was too damn stubborn to stop Tim, even if it hurt. But a darker part of Tim wanted Jason to take it. And if he couldn't take it, then Jason was going to have to throw away his pride and ask him to stop, because Tim wasn't going to. He wasn't going to be considerate. He wasn't going to give in.
This was what Jason wanted. This was what he had pushed Tim into.
But Jason didn't stop him. Every curse seemed to be chanting Tim on, his hips moving back against Tim, taking him in. Tim finally pushed in all the way, down to the base, balls pressed against Jason's ass. Tim groaned deep.
"You're so tight," he said, gritting his teeth. Jason was squeezed around him, hot and pulling him in. The feeling of just being inside of Jason was intoxicating.
Tim started to draw back. Jason let out a small sound between his teeth, his hand shooting for Tim, finding purchase on his uniform. The hand wrapped its way around Tim's harness, knuckles white. Tim didn't stop moving. He watched as Jason's expression twisted—tension, then with a shuddering groan, relief.
"Fuck," Jason said, just as Tim drove back in. Tim flinched as Jason moved too, pushing back against Tim—almost like he was trying to test how deep Tim could go, maybe even take him deeper, balls pushed up against his ass. It had to have hurt. But if it did, Jason liked it. "That's it."
The grumbling timbre to Jason's voice never failed to get Tim hot. He pushed his cock in even deeper, far enough to hurt. Jason's head fell back, bumping against the hard metal, his hips tilted to grind back on Tim.
"Fuck, Tim." He sounded almost breathless, his grip growing tighter on the harness. "You're going to kill me."
Jason pulled hard, bringing Tim in for a kiss. Their mouths met hard, teeth catching. Tim nipped at Jason's bottom lip, beginning to thrust inside of Jason in short, shallow movements, trying to test the feeling, to get used to it. Jason kept him there, hand wrapped fast around the strap. Like this, laid flush against Jason's body as he thrusted inside of him, Tim became aware of Jason's size. It was like he was drowning in Jason's body, everything around him was muscles and scars.
The car rocked and groaned under them. Tim shoved in that hot, tight, dry heat over and over. Carving his way inside. Jason's hands roamed, moving from the uniform to Tim's biceps, his grip almost completely wrapped around him. It turned Tim on, to see Jason like this. Tim liked thrusting inside of him, trapped between Jason's massive thighs, his torso a bed underneath him.
Jason's cock rubbed up between their bodies as they fucked. Tim could feel it, the tip wet as it pushed against his abdomen.
"Do you like it when I fuck you?"
To Tim's surprise, Jason chortled. Tim could feel Jason's body move from the inside-out with the single sound.
"Guess you can reach," Jason grumbled. His face looked too focused, his voice too strained. "You look cute like this, you know."
It should have irritated Tim. But it didn't. It made him feel strangely warm. It made Tim want to kiss Jason, so he did. His hands hooked under the hem of Jason's shirt, rolling it up past his stomach, over his chest, and he kissed the flesh there.
Tim's lips travelled, latching over one of Jason's nipples. He could hear Jason's breath hitch. Tim moved in and in and in, his pace building up, the car rocking. He could smell rubber and sweat and sex. It filled Tim's senses all at once. Made him lustier. He fucked and fucked, his cock ramming into Jason over and over again. His lips and tongue and teeth teased over Jason's nipples. His hands could barely cover the surface of Jason's pecs but he squeezed anyways, feeling heat and muscle and flesh. He could hear Jason groaning now, the frequency and volume of his voice rising.
Tim's hands moved down Jason's form, feeling every contour, every scar, down to his hips. They stayed there, holding him down as he pounded into him. He was fucking Jason faster now. Jason's body was adjusted, could take it.
Tim couldn't concentrate on Jason's chest anymore. His head fell forward, resting against Jason's body. He was moaning, breath hot, against Jason's skin. Sweat was starting to gather near his hairline and—his mask, God, he never even took that off, did he?
He recognized the waves of pleasure dancing along his spine. His thrusts were quick, uneven, erratic. Everything was hot, so hot.
He tried to rise up, positioning himself to drive into Jason with more control. As he did so, he looked into Jason's eyes.
"Are you gonna fill me up?"
Tim looked at Jason a moment longer, not quite registering the words at first. His mind felt hazy, pleasure blurring his senses. He could feel Jason's cocky smirk and devilish eyes pulling him.
"No," he said, with sudden realization. And there was a cautious flicker in Jason's eyes—he was trying to guess what Tim was up to. His head lowered, watching Tim as he pulled out. "I want you on your knees."
The assuredness returned to Jason's expression. He slunk to the ground with confidence, hands already wrapping their way around Tim's hips.
"I don't want your mouth," Tim said when Jason leaned in.
Jason didn't say anything—but that brief second of silence was enough to show how offguard he was. Tim forcefully pushed his head back, their eyes meeting.
"You're real eager for it, aren't you?"
After a night of Jason teasing and egging him on, Tim would be lying if he said that Jason's humiliation didn't satisfy him. Jason wasn't used to being the one kept off balance. Wasn't used to Tim being unpredictable.
"You gonna touch yourself, Timmy? You wanna finish on my face?"
Tim pushed his cock against Jason's chest, the tip rubbing up against Jason's nipple. Jason's gaze flickered up at Tim.
"You like my tits?"
The word was jarring. Tits. But Tim supposed that was the point. He stared at Jason's pecs, considering them for a moment, feeling a rush of heat and desire through his body. He decided he liked that word.
"Yeah," he said. "I like your tits. Hold them together."
"You can't be serious," Jason said. When they locked eyes, Jason seemed to realize his mistake. His usual arrogant confidence was crumbling with uncertainty, fast. His sense of control had been wrangled away with disbelief and embarrassment.
"Come on," Tim said, stroking himself.
Jason breathed a little. There was something almost exasperated in the sound. Clenching his jaw, his unwillingness to give in taking precedence, he leaned in closer.
Tim's breath hitched, a wave of heat rushing through his body as Jason placed his hands to his chest. Tim's cock was placed at the center of Jason's pecs. It was moreso the idea than the execution that turned Tim on. He loved Jason all pinkfaced, loved the way his tits looked squeezed together.
"Keep them like that," he breathed, groaning softly as Jason's gaze flickered downwards. Tim's fingers were circled around the base of his cock, guiding them between Jason's pecs. With each stroke, he could feel just enough friction on his cock to keep him edging toward the brink of pleasure.
Jason stayed there on his knees, eyes averted, fingers digging into his chest. Tim could see the peek of nipple between his spread fingers. He loved the way that each pec filled Jason's hands. It was sick and it must have been humiliating and Tim loved it.
He thrusted between Jason's tits. Each movement stuttered awkwardly. It was difficult to build a rhythm. But the desperation of it all, the need, only seemed to increase Tim's arousal. Here he was, grinding up against Jason's chest, and Jason was just kneeling there taking it.
The dry friction was building up. His cock almost ached from all the heat, all the rubbing.
Didn't matter.
He was close anyways.
One hand rested on Jason's shoulder, holding him in place as he rocked against him.
"Just keep holding them like that. Don't quit," Tim hissed between his teeth.
Jason's face seemed to burn hotter, the flush extending to his ears. His own voice seemed in tune with Tim's, his breathiness increasing the more Tim moaned.
Tim was jerking up against his body, rocking them both erratically, cock sliding between Jason's tits faster now. It was getting hard to stand. Getting harder to control his movements. But Tim was so close—so close to the edge he could feel it. His head was getting fuzzy, the heat in his body intense, like fire. His knees felt weak, so weak.
Tim announced when he was close—but by then, his cock jerked and he was already pushed over the edge. His mouth fell open—a gasp, then a long moan. He didn't stop moving his hips—he pushed up between Jason's pecs, spilling his seed on his chest, and Jason flinched as a spurt landed near his face, just under his chin.
The sight only made Tim weaker. His eyes heavy-lidded, he rode out his orgasm, feeling wave after wave of sparks and heat run through his body. His cock rubbed into his own ejaculate, seed still leaking down his cock, as he spread it over Jason's chest.
All at once, the orgasm subsided, and Tim shivered as he backed up a step. To his surprise, Jason leaned in, lips closing around Tim's softening erection. Tim flinched as his sensitive cock entered Jason's warm mouth. Jason sucked him almost tenderly, cleaning off his seed, and Tim swore under his breath.
Jason pulled off, his hand moving to his own cock. He started jerking himself off.
Though shaky, Tim kneeled beside Jason.
"You looked so hot," Tim murmured, fingers wiping away at the seed that dripped down the center of Jason's torso. Jason's breathing seemed to grow heavier. His hand stroked fast. Jason lifted his gaze to meet Tim's. His usual intensity had melted into something desperate. Tim recognized the look. He was close.
Tim's fingers, coated in ejaculate, pressed to Jason's lips. They readily parted, sucking on the digits, taking them in deep. Jason's body suddenly shuddered. He moaned around the fingers in his mouth.
Tim licked at Jason's jawline, cleaning where he had finished. He carried the bitter seed on his tongue, switching places with the fingers in Jason's mouth. Jason sucked on his tongue, tasting, then sucked on Tim's lips too.
Tim kissed him back, filling him with his tongue. His fingers moved back to Jason's chest, where he was still filthy.
He let Jason suck on his fingers. Jason was trembling now, hips bucking up and up, over and over. Jason was panting hotly around Tim's fingers, his eyes squeezed shut.
"That's it," Tim softly encouraged. His face felt warm as he watched Jason. "Come."
A moment longer. Strokes moving fast. Then, tension.
Jason's mouth suddenly closed a little tighter. Tim could feel Jason's hot, heavy breath on his wet fingers. His groan was deep and muffled, lips vibrating against Tim's fingers, hips rolling forward.
Tim found himself groaning too. Jason was too good to watch like this. Tim had finished and his body was tired and sensitive but even so, he felt a spark of pleasure watching Jason like this. Loved seeing his expression all screwed up and his body rising and falling with his quickening breaths.
Jason rolled his hips over and over, fucking into his hand, fingers wrapped tightly around his cock. Suddenly he tensed up, silencing—then groaned with Tim's fingers still in his mouth, his cock twitching in his hand as he finished, seed filling his hand and spilling onto the floor.
Jason pulled away from Tim, panting, his body sagging to the ground. After a moment, feeling weak himself, Tim sat too. They sat there for a moment, not speaking, just breathing.
A few moments later, when they cleaned off and were getting dressed, Tim embraced the silence and took time to reflect on the night. The entire night.
"Jason."
"What?" Jason said, without looking back.
"Thanks for ruining my case. I didn't need you there."
Jason was quiet for a moment. Tim finally looked up, to see Jason's reaction. But just as quick, Jason turned his head away.
He pulled on his jacket before finally speaking.
"Thanks for stopping the car and letting the bad guy get away."
"Right."
Tim finally got the car door open. He paused, watching as Jason grabbed his hood off the ground, patting off any possible dust.
"Need a ride?" Tim asked.
"Kind of out of the way."
"It's fine."
"Alright then," Jason said, knuckles rapping on the edge of the car.
Tim was about to climb in when he noticed Jason was walking toward him.
Tim didn't say anything. He stood there, one foot in the car, the other on the concrete. He waited, patiently, as Jason leaned in close, hood tucked under his arm.
Tim waited in anticipation as Jason drew close—but just short of their faces touching, Jason suddenly said:
"But I'm driving."
Tim stared in surprise, not expecting that answer.
He looked at Jason for a moment, studying him.
Then he stepped out of the car.
"No, you're not."
"You can't drive."
"And you drive like a maniac."
"It's just until I get home. Then the wheel is all yours."
Tim shifted in place, staring at Jason incredulously. This guy.
"Wheel is mine, regardless. It's my car."
Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, his brow furrowing.
"You don't know how to drive it."
The car door slammed shut. Tim crossed his arms, leaning against it. Jason's head rolled.
"Come on. Just give me the keys. I know the best route from here anyways."
"No way. If you're going to be like this, you can ask Bruce for a ride home."
"Stop being such a control freak and hand over the keys."
"Make me."
At that, Jason halted. Tim's heart skipped in realization.
A soft chortle. Tim stared down the wolf's grin that was growing before him and his mind worked to decide if he was going to give up the keys or stand by his words.
It was a good thing that he always made up his mind fast.