AN: Hey, I've seen a lot of favs and alerts on this fic, but only two reviews? Harsh, guys... :P (Check it out - moustache smiley = :{ Hehe...)

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"You can't smoke in here, Jason."

"And yet I am. Funny, that."

Tim rested his face in his palms as he sat down. It was the top floor of the library and no-one was around anyway – Miss Anchorberry had told Tim she'd be back in half an hour after casting a wary glance at Jason, who'd waved.

"Did you read it?" he asked.

Jason grinned. "Sure did. Go ahead, ask me anything."

"Why did you apply for a tutor?"

The grin faltered. "Okay, I seem to recall the deal being that I'd only answer questions about books, but fine. New deal – an eye for an eye." Jason cocked his head. "Did you think of me the other night? When you were jacking off?"

It was actually quite amazing, the way he could ask such things with simple ease. Whilst Tim blushed and shuffled lower into his seat, Jason took another long draw on his cigarette and blew the white tendrils out through his nostrils.

"Yes."

"And did you come to the same thoughts?"

Of course, Tim didn't want to answer. Even though it'd been five days since Jason had made him that deal, he could still remember vividly that it had taken forever to reach a climax. Albeit not a very good one, with a lot of clumsy gripping and tugging. He just hadn't quite realised just how terrible he was with his left hand.

Yet for some reason he wanted to please Jason. He didn't like it. He didn't even like him. But... still...

"Y-yes."

Jason immediately snorted. "Bullshit, kid. I've grown up in the same community as the rest of the shit-heads here. Don't you think I can tell when someone's lying?" He lowered his hand from his mouth, the one clutching the smouldering stick, and tapped the ashes onto the desk. Tim fidgeted. "Nah, I can't stay mad at you. You're such a pretty boy. Do people ever tell you that?"

Actually, he'd only ever really been called "gorgeous", and that was by his mother. But Tim wasn't about to tell Jason that. No way. Not just to have another thing he could hold against him to tease and taunt and no.

"But you did think of me," he mused. "That's interesting."

Tim's eyes snapped up, flustered and confused and pissed off. "We only met, what, a week ago? And you're already involving yourself in my masturbatory details?"

Jason snorted.

"Do you believe in love at first sight, kid?"

Fists clenching, Tim bit out "No."

There was a twitch of agreement on Jason's nose. "Neither. But I do believe in sparks. Connections. Sometimes they turn out to be dust caught in the light, never even a spark to begin with. Just an illusion. But others..."

The words didn't match the speaker; they were far too refined and delicate, and Jason, well... wasn't.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked.

Jason's hand paused, momentarily stopping its slight squeezes and grasps.

"Well, if you're really so stupid that you can't figure it out then, Mr. Drake, I am touching myself."

"What?" gasped Tim. "Here? Now?"

Head threatening to lean back as his own touch continued to gentle around his hard-on, he exhaled.

"Jason!"

"I was up till one last night reading that stupid thing you gave me two days ago," he hissed. "I missed out on jerking off then."

"What about this morning? Ever heard of doing it in the shower like a normal person?"

"Slept in. Only had twenty minutes to get ready before I was an hour late."

Tim knew he should've looked away. Left altogether. Ran. But he couldn't. Even as Jason's hand popped the button and slipped into his trousers, he just couldn't take his eyes off. The red-head's, however, closed. He lifted his hips ever-so-slightly off of the seat. These movements—these intimate, horribly forbidden-fruit movements—had Tim's heart racing. This was the by far most sexual thing he'd ever done, despite the fact that it wasn't even him doing it, nor was the brunette offering to assist in the current task.

"Jason, stop," Tim commanded meekly.

"Why? You not enjoying it?" He wasn't even looking at him as he spoke.

"This- This wasn't part of any deal!"

Jason smiled, pushing his cigarette back between his lips to allow himself the hands to unzip his fly. "'course not, kid. I don't make deals about sex. That's just not classy." He edged his briefs down just a little. "All I want you to do is watch and enjoy the show."

"Jason, I-"

Tim was hushed instantly by "Ssh, quiet." He glanced down out of reflex and the sight went straight to the nerves between his legs.

He'd completely exposed his cock, fingertips running up and down, not really doing much. Just trailing. Tim shuddered a breath; he wondered how the guy could stand to go so slowly, knowing he himself would lose patience. No matter how long the boy could sit at a desk and study, or wait at an office for errands or even try to persuade Jason to do his work, when it came to masturbating Tim just couldn't wait.

And yet Jason could?

Then it struck—Tim couldn't stop the thought that occurred—and he swallowed; maybe Jason didn't just like to tease other people...

Apparently not good for the long run, he realised as Jason wrapped his hand around the shaft. Unlike himself, Jason wasn't circumcised, and Tim watched in rapt attention as he slid the extra skin over the head of his dick a few times. He groaned around the obstruction, teeth nearly breaking through the paper, before reaching the hand not stroking to pluck it out and offer it to Tim.

"I don't smoke, Jason," he said.

"Then could you put it in the bin? I..." His words faded to nothingness but picked up again soon. "I can't do this with my mouth closed."

"I'm not going to take it."

"Fine," he grinned, grip loosening. "I'll just drop it, then."

So Tim sighed, took the disgusting thing. Grabbed his waterbottle and headed towards the bin. Once put out, the now-dead stick was released and he turned just in time to see Jason begin to fist himself fully. It wasn't elegant or smooth – rough, irregular pumps, the noises he was making even more so, alongside the occasional thrust with his free hand clutching the arm of the chair. He really, truly didn't care that Tim was watching, even as he sat back beside him with his eyes glued South. Jason was already leaking quite a lot...

Did he like being watched? Tim pondered over the silent question. He would be utterly humiliated, knowing that someone was seeing him bring his own body to the peak of pleasure. Not that he had any idea what he looked like. For all he knew, amongst minutes' worth of odd noises and weird faces, Tim would look kind of sexy...

Then he took his gaze off Jason's most private (or supposed-to-be) bit of anatomy and almost squeaked. Jason was staring right back—through half-lidded eyes, sure—and had that same expression as most of the time he'd spent with Tim so far, only this time accompanied by the quick rises and falls of his chest and with his jaw slightly slack. That was sexy, and it was also something Tim wasn't. It was Jason.

"Got a tissue?" he asked breathily. Jason took a moment to smirk at the pocket-packet Tim produced as he handed one over.

Tim never swore when he came. Ever. It just didn't seem like that kind of amazing feeling deserved even a snippet of such language. Jason, however, gave it no thought, throwing his head back with a groan resembling the word "fuck". Then again, it could have been something else entirely. Anything, really.

Feeling embarrassed that he had indeed done exactly as he was expected to, Tim found his willpower once again (hiding under a big, bloated layer of teenaged hormones). Looked elsewhere as the older teen made himself decent again, tossing the wadded-up tissue to land beside his abandoned cigarette. Blushed as he readjusted himself, much to his own dismay.

"You want a hand with that?" Jason smiled.

Sneering, Tim moved his chair away an inch. "No, I do not want a hand with it!"

Unbothered by the clear amount of grossed out, Jason shrugged and laid back to enjoy the afterglow. "Suit yourself."

And it was just as well that he hadn't agreed to... to... whatever vulgarity was being suggested, because Miss Anchorberry decided it was the perfect time to round the corner of the stairs just a minute later. "Was somebody smoking up here?" she growled.

"It was Tim!" Jason blurted, grabbing his backpack. The woman rolled her eyes at him as Tim's mouth hung open. Despite it, Jason had the nerve to kiss her cheek on the way out.

Not that his nerve surprised Tim...

"I know it wasn't you," she muttered, rubbing at her face to stop the feeling of his dry lips against her soft skin from crawling further, "but you could have come and told me."

The disappointment was obvious. However, even as they opened all the windows to get the stench out, his thoughts were still stuck on that one stupid red-head. Why was he acting that way around another student? Why Tim? Dick was bisexual – why not bother him with his crazy stunts?

And why...

...Why was Tim beginning not to mind?