Disclaimers: So *very* much not mine.

Spoilers: Vague ones for Nightwing #25.
Timeline... er. ::hand-wavey::

Summary: Sparring, foreplay... six of one, etc.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: People like L.C. and Shrift and
Weirdness Magnet have been filling my head with
*thoughts* about Dick and Tim and... yeah. I
pretty much flailed about until I could write
*something*.

Acknowledgments: To Jack and Reilael for
audiencing and helpful suggestions.

*

He likes watching Tim get ready for a spar.

Economy, efficiency, speed, and care. Stretching while
he strips down, reacquainting himself with the
terrain -- Dick's garage -- while he stretches.

Almost certainly planning his attack while he studies
the space, right down to the last detail.

It's the closest thing to a weakness, really -- moreso
than Tim's size.

It's not that planning is a bad idea -- it's how they
live, and *stay* living. It's just that it's a bad idea with
*him*.

Dick grins to himself and watches Tim start to move
into a defensive stance. And attacks.

He pulls the first punch, but doesn't bother with the
second. If Tim isn't ready for it after first contact,
that's --

Caught, and Tim tries to knee him in the thigh --
without releasing Dick's hand. Dick shifts just *enough*
out of the way and Tim tightens his hold reflexively.
Perfect.

Dick twists in his grip and jumps, bracing on Tim's
palm and flipping. Tim hesitates for a heartbeat before
letting go, but that's enough time for Dick to brace his
*other* hand on Tim's shoulder and finish the flip.

He shoots an elbow back before he lands and hits. Tim
grunts and Dick ducks, feeling Tim's backhand whiff
through his hair.

He spins and blocks Tim's spin-kick, but doesn't catch
his ankle.

"Better," he says and dodges the punch aimed at his
cheek.

Tim's eyes narrow, slightly, but he doesn't advance.

"Attack."

"I'm considering it."

Dick drops back on one hand and kicks out, using the
last of the small momentum to kick *up*, too, with his
right foot. Hit. "Don't."

Tim rides the blow to his jaw, backing up two steps,
three. "Noted." One hand behind his back and --

Dick rolls to avoid -- pellets. And raises an eyebrow.

"Weighted duds. Working on a sling --"

The first kick makes Tim's knee buckle.

"Shot," Tim says, and staggers back from the second.

"Good idea. Not just weighted pellets, I assume?"

"I have a few ideas," Tim says, and closes carefully,
blocking two kicks and a punch.

"Explosives?" Blocked.

"Of course," and Tim's watching his face and blocking
steadily.

"You need to dodge more." Blocked, blocked --

"Too much movement."

"You're kidding me, right?" Blocked with the right
and -- Tim's eye twitches and Dick fakes a punch to
Tim's left ear and chops down on Tim's right wrist
while bringing his knee up.

Tim grunts.

Dick prepares to dodge toward Tim's brand-new weak
right and -- gets punched. A weak one, but still a hit.
He steps back and considers.

"You made your point," Tim says, and shakes out his
wrist.

"And so did you. Pause."

"It's not --"

Dick grabs Tim's wrist anyway. Tim doesn't make a
sound, just tenses. Which *could* be a matter of
unauthorized-physical-contact, considering the fact
that Tim's *Tim*, but. Dick wraps his other hand
around Tim's forearm and rolls the kid's hand around
carefully.

He doesn't bother looking for obvious pain reactions,
because he knows he won't get them.

The movement is good.

"You didn't *break* anything," Tim says.

Dick ignores him and runs his fingers over the skin.
Heated, faintly sweaty. Slightly more heated --
there.

Tim hisses between his teeth, once, at the press of
Dick's fingers.

"That's going to bruise."

"No shit."

Dick raises an eyebrow at Tim and drops the arm. "No
more for today."

"The gauntlet --"

"Covers it, I know, but I don't need to beat any more
object lessons into you today. Do I?"

Tim rolls his eyes and heads over to retrieve his duds.
"I know I'm not a tank, Dick. I dodge. Just not with
you."

Dick smirks. "I always knew you loved it when I --"

"You're still faster than I am, and unpredictable. Most
dodges wind up exposing too many vulnerabilities.
Don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have taken
advantage."

"Of course I would have, but --" He catches a pellet
before it can hit him and throws it right back at Tim.

Tim catches it and tucks it into whatever container
he's hidden in the back of his jeans before giving
him a bland look. "But what?"

"You need to learn how to dodge *me*."

And Dick's actually serious about that, but Tim just
smiles, turning his head.

"Tim --"

Tim holds up a hand. "Fine." He settles into a
defensive stance. "Let's go."

He could argue the point, but... it's not like he's any
good at actually using *words* for this sort of thing.
"Touches, not hits."

Tim nods impatiently.

Dick moves.

And Tim is awkward at first. Not slow so much as
clearly re-orienting himself. His shoulders twitch with
the blocks he's not letting himself make.

"Stop thinking so much," Dick says, and catches Tim
on the ribs before he can twist.

"You've got to be joking," and Tim jerks -- almost --
away from the touch on his chest.

"Okay, fine, just -- " Dick's hand slips past Tim's ear
as Tim dodges. "There."

"The head-shots are --" Tim doesn't step back fast
enough from the touch to his abdomen. "Easier. I'm
not sure --"

Dodged forehead shot, dodged chin shot, dodged
ear shot. "Hmm."

Tim waits, watching Dick's eyes.

"The trains."

Tim blinks. "You want me to close my eyes?"

Dick shrugs. "It might help. It's possible you're
relying on visual cues, reacting to the way my body
moves."

Tim looks at the floor. And then takes a fast,
thorough look around the room. When he turns back
to Dick, his eyes are closed.

There's an interesting spare-ness to Tim's face like
this, a... it's not a vulnerability so much as...
something. A kind of waiting quality. It's not a
surprise that his eyes are the most expressive thing
about his face.

Tim cocks his head.

"Okay, just like the trains. You want to focus on your
other senses and --"

Tim jerks at the touch to his shoulder.

"Move."

"Got it."

Dick starts slow, and catches Tim on his right arm,
his left wrist, and his forehead. "Come on, kid."

"I'm not, actually, a Jedi --"

Tim dodges a blow to his ear and Dick grins.
"Pretend. You like to do it, anyway."

Tim's brow furrows. Dick catches him low on the
stomach and Tim tenses and --

Dodges right, away from the blow to his shoulder.
"Better."

Tim shifts on his feet, frowning slightly.

Dick slides to the left, carefully, and watches Tim
breathe.

Watches. He's still looking toward where Dick had
been a moment before. Dick jabs at Tim's ribs and
gets --

Blocked. "Tsk. You were supposed to --"

"Get touched?" Tim grins -- almost -- at him.

Dick feels himself grinning, too. "Okay, Boy Cheater.
If you want to play it *that* way..."

He moves in fast and crouches, getting both of
Tim's thighs before Tim stutter-steps back. Dick
keeps advancing, catching Tim -- lightly -- on the
bruised wrist. Tim twists away from the shot to his
hip, but he's in the middle of a turn, so Dick slips
around behind him and catches him on the opposite
elbow.

Tim pauses and Dick aims for the back of his neck.
Tim bends -- low enough to bump Dick with his ass.
He jerks forward, too slow to avoid a swat, and then
drops into a somersault . When he stands, he spreads
his arms, pauses again, and jabs out, catching Dick
on the pec.

Dick catches his wrist. "My game."

Tim twists his hand away. "And now I know exactly
where you are."

Dick grins a little wider. "You think that'll help?"

"Maybe," and Tim bends under the touch aimed at
his forehead.

Dick catches him between the shoulderblades, and
Tim swings up and steps *forward* -- and jerks his
head back away from the touch aimed at his nose.
And narrowly avoids the touch to his chest.

Dick aims at the same spot and Tim's shoulder
twitches, but he still manages to side-step in time.

"Almost."

"Not good --" Tim twists away from a touch aimed
at his side. "Enough."

"No?" Dick catches him twice on the ribs and Tim
tenses up, visibly trying to keep himself from
moving away. "Don't do that."

"I'll lose track of you."

Dick drops into a crouch and jabs at Tim's knees,
his thighs, and his calves, forcing Tim to move
backwards. "You won't."

"I --"

"You know I'm coming for you."

Tim makes a small, bitten-off sound, and nods. And
*dives* away from the next touch aimed at his ribs,
rolling back to his feet and looking around a little
wildly. He's not counting on Dick being where he
left him, which is good, but wrong.

Dick stays in his crouch for another beat, then
stands slowly and quietly.

Another beat, and Tim splays his fingers and starts
reaching up and out.

Dick comes in fast and catches Tim on his throat
and his thigh, and misses Tim's wrist and shoulder.

Tim's breathing faster.

"Loosen up."

Tim jerks at the sound of Dick's voice, and Dick
gives him a second to relax. He doesn't.

"Tim. Are you --"

"Don't stop."

Dick swallows, and jabs at Tim's arms. Misses. His
cheek. Misses. His chest -- touch. His arm again --
touch. His thigh --

Tim moans, long and low.

"Tim -- ah --"

Tim *slaps* Dick's hand flat on his thigh, and opens
his eyes. They're wide and... dilated.

Dick blinks.

Tim tugs on Dick's hand sideways until it's cupping
the inside of his thigh.

"Tim..."

And then pulls it *up*, spreading his legs and
*pushing* into Dick's palm. "Please," Tim says, and
this. It isn't...

Tim's *hard*, the heat of him coming right through
the jeans and whatever he's wearing beneath them.
Dick's body knows exactly how to react to that, and
he feels himself warm all over, skin prickling with all
the sweating he isn't doing *yet*.

But.

Dick forces himself to uncurl his fingers, and
watches Tim's face *twist*, just for a second. Far
more intense than just a frown. "Dick..."

And Tim sounds... Tim should never sound that
*needy*, not when Dick can -- He shakes it off and
twists his hand out of Tim's grip and takes a step
back.

Tim shudders and looks at the floor. "Sorry. I'm --
I just --"

"No, I." Dick breathes and stops and really *looks*
at Tim. His face is flushed and his body is *tense*.
When he shifts, his t-shirt pulls tight over his chest
for a moment, and his nipples are hard and
obvious. "It's okay. I mean --"

Tim shudders again and takes a deep breath. When
he looks up, he's got his game face on so tightly
that Dick has to blink. "Yeah, Dick. Uh... these
things happen. I'm just going --"

"Wait." Dick grabs Tim's bicep before he can think
about it, and feels Tim tense even harder under
his palm. Some part of his brain is reminding him,
helpfully, that Tim doesn't *like* to be touched
without a reason, and Dick wonders why *anyone*
thinks he's smart.

His mind is fucking *lagging*, and Tim's staring at
the floor again.

"Tim, you..." He has no *idea* what he wants to
say.

"Look, it's fine, I just... got a little carried away.
Adrenaline."

Dick laughs helplessly, and *stops* because Tim's
jaw is working. "No -- I'm not -- I'm just... isn't
that supposed to be *my* line?"

It's a bad angle, but it's entirely possible that
Tim's smiling. "You snooze..."

"Tim --"

"Dick, you kind of have to let me go now."

"Wait. Just -- *wait*. I mean... do you *want* me
to let you go?"

A moment's hesitation, and it shouldn't mean
anything, and for anybody else it probably
wouldn't, but --

But Dick's body knows it's Tim, and that it *does*,
and Dick blinks when they stop moving because
there's a wall in the way, and somehow his *other*
hand is on Tim's other arm, and Tim is right there.
Up against the wall and staring up at him with wide
eyes.

"Dick...?"

"I just... needed a minute. I --" His mouth is much
better at kissing, because Tim moans into it, biceps
flexing under Dick's hands. Dick squeezes once and
presses in with his thumbs and Tim moans louder,
arching up into the kiss. Dick can feel Tim's hips
working and --

The angle is bad. He pulls Tim away from the wall
and stumbles them back a few steps before rolling
them down to the floor. Tim gasps and rocks *up*
against him, and gasps again when Dick licks his
neck.

So Dick does it again, harder, tasting sweat and skin,
and Tim shoves one hand into his hair and pulls him
in, grinding up and up against Dick's stomach.

Dick licks his way up the underside of Tim's chin and
into his mouth, and Tim's hand spasms in his hair.

Tim kisses like he won't get the chance to do it
again, and Dick stops trying to slow it down and
just goes with it, licking Tim's tongue until Tim
groans and sucks on him. Hard little pulses of feeling
that just --

Dick pulls out of the kiss and bites Tim's lip.

"You're giving me ideas."

"I want to. I want to suck you --"

Dick thrusts down against Tim's thigh and kisses
Tim again, hard and fast. Tim whimpers when he
pulls back and *stares* up at him and Dick braces
himself on one hand and reaches between them,
yanking up Tim's shirt and losing himself in the feel
of smooth, damp, *hot* skin and Tim's wide blue
eyes. He brushes his palm over one hard nipple
and has to bite his own lip at the way Tim arches
into it, at the way Tim's mouth falls open in a
toneless little gasp. "Yeah. Yeah, you..." Like that.

He likes it, too.

He twists free of the hand in his hair and moves
down, curling his fingers under the waist of Tim's
jeans, and then he just has to ride it for a second,
the arch of Tim's hips and all that *want*. "I've
got you. I've --"

"*Dick* --"

"Yeah..." He works open Tim's fly and pulls the
jeans down when Tim arches *again*, and Tim's *hard*
under his boxers, the head of his dick peeking out
from under the waistband. Dick rubs his thumb over it,
rubs *hard* --

"Oh God --"

"I want to suck you, too. Jerk you off -- "

"*Oh* --" Tim bucks and twists under him, and he's
just --

"You're so sexy like this, Tim --"

"*Please* --"

Dick yanks down Tim's boxers and licks his palm,
wrapping it around Tim's dick and -- he just means
to stroke Tim a few times, get a *feel* for him in
his hand, but Tim shouts and *thrusts* into his fist,
ragged and fast and --

"Dick -- oh, don't stop --"

Sixteen and *long* past ready. He gets it. He
*remembers* it, and he tightens his fist and gives
it to Tim fast and hard and steady. Tim moans and
gasps and moans *louder*, and Dick looks up at
his face.

Tim's gaze is *lasered* in on him, and mouth
open and wet, and every time Dick rubs his thumb
over the head Tim groans.

"Oh, Tim. Just like that. Come on..."

And Tim squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip
and Dick can *feel* the noises he's trying not to
make.

"Tim..."

"You feel --" Tim shakes his head and pushes into
Dick's fist faster. "So good --"

"You feel better."

And Tim gasps and comes, all over Dick's fist and
his own stomach. "Dick..."

Dick lets go and runs his hands up over Tim's
stomach and chest, sliding through come and sweat
and just *feeling* Tim. And there's a part of his
brain that wants to point out that he's feeling Tim
*up*, but it's the *slow* part, and it shuts up at
the feel of Tim's mouth on his own again.

Soft, *greedy* mouth, and it only takes a moment
before Tim is reaching for him again, cupping his
face and holding Dick *still*, and Dick rests more
of his weight on Tim, rocking against his thigh and
cupping the back of his head. Tim wraps his legs
around Dick's waist and *squeezes*, and Dick rolls
them over and keeps kissing.

Tim makes little humming sounds, pleased sounds,
and only pauses long enough to shove his thigh
harder between Dick's. Dick moans and pulls him
back in, wrapping his arm around Tim's neck and
grinding up.

Tim pulls back to get a breath and his eyes are
wide and his lips are swollen and soft and really
pretty mesmerizing. Dick reaches up with his free
hand and pets them, and Tim's eyes slip
half-closed.

And Tim licks his fingers and... shivers. And that's
just...

"Do you do it when you're alone? Do you taste
yourself?"

Tim's eyes *snap* open and he grabs Dick's wrist
and sucks his fingers *in*.

"I take it that's a yes..." Dick grins and Tim stares
at him. And goes *down* on Dick's fingers.

Dick grunts and rocks up harder.

"You suck them clean, just like that. You --- oh,
Tim --"

Tim tightens his grip on Dick's wrist and pulls him
*deep*. And then pulls off -- almost -- all the way.
And tugs.

"You want me to fuck your mouth, Tim?"

Tim closes his eyes and moans around the tips of
Dick's fingers, and Dick pushes in. He wants to
*feel* that moan. He wants -- he reaches up with
his other hand and strokes Tim's throat, and Tim
moans again.

"So sexy..."

Tim squeezes his wrist harder and Dick pushes in
slow with his fingers, and he doesn't know if it's
the feel or the *look*. Tim's cheeks hollowing in
on themselves and Tim's lashes fluttering, just a
little, and he can feel himself spilling pre-come in
his shorts.

"Tim..."

He slides his fingers out again and Tim *follows*
him, until Dick catches him by the shoulders. Tim's
eyes widen and slowly, slowly focus, and Dick
tries very hard not to just *push* him down, and
only mostly succeeds.

But Tim just bites his lip and moves down Dick's
body, gracefully and looking almost *calm*, right
up until Dick can see how much his hands are
shaking on Dick's fly. Until he can *feel* it. He
reaches down and covers Tim's hands with his
own and Tim *whimpers*.

And Dick pushes Tim's hands away and he
*wants* to say something good, something
responsible, but his jeans are suddenly the most
effective instrument of torture in the *universe*.

He opens them himself, and barely has the zipper
down before Tim's *on* him, rubbing him through
his shorts and moaning quietly. Dick pushes up
against Tim's hands. "Please, Tim -- oh --"

Because Tim doesn't even bother tugging his
boxers down, just reaches in through the slit and
pulls him out *that* way, and dives in and *hums*
around the head. Dick clenches his hands around
his own jeans and groans.

"*Tim* --"

*Licking* him, and shoving his tongue at the slit
and squeezing the shaft and --

"*Fuck* --"

Down on him, all the way to his hand, and Dick
braces on his elbows and sits up, just to *see*.
Tim going down on him, dark hair mussed and
spiked where it isn't sticking to his face, and Tim
looks right back at him and groans. Dick clenches
his hands into fists and rocks up, forcing himself
to be slow, trying not to --

"Jesus, Tim, your *mouth*. So hot -- so --"

And Tim slides up slow and licks at him again and
never stops looking.

"Fuck. Suck me. Suck me, Tim, please..."

Tim groans again and sucks *hard*, and Dick's
hips are moving without his permission and Tim
doesn't *move*, and every thrust gets him a
little deeper into all that wet heat, and Dick
reaches out, pushing into Tim's hair, and Tim
squeezes his eyes shut and lets go of him on the
next thrust, *shoving* his head down and
gagging.

And doing it again.

*Again*, and of course he would, because Tim's
someone who'll hit you with a busted hand just
because you wouldn't see it coming, because Tim
*wants* this, and *fuck*, Dick wants to give it to
him.

"Swallow -- swallow me in, you --"

Tim makes a high, frustrated sound and then --

*In*, and Dick rocks up much too hard, but he
can't even make himself loosen his grip in Tim's
*hair* and -- "Tight, oh you're so --"

And Tim pulls off and gasps and Dick can't hold
in a whimper, and another when Tim just goes
back *down*, and Dick *holds* himself in Tim's
throat, arching up off the floor because he wants
to be *right* there, and Tim grabs his hips and
*pushes* him out, breathing loud through his
nose and --

"Oh God *yes*, Tim --"

So hot, so *tight*, and this time Tim just *stays*
there, and Dick hears himself panting and smells
his own sweat and his hips are rocking in
helpless little jerks and he has to -- fuck, he has
to let Tim *breathe* --

Tim squeezes his hips and it's enough of a trigger
to ease out of that sweet, tight little heaven
again, to listen to Tim try to gasp through his
nose and --

Again.

Dick's mouth falls open on a helpless groan and
it's all he can do not to rip Tim's hair *out*. "Jesus.
Jesus *fuck* --"

And Tim swallows and swallows and Dick throws
his head back and *feels* it.

Another squeeze and Dick *forces* his hips back
down and Tim coughs around him and Dick feels
himself *flex*. Tim whimpers and swallows him
*again* and he needs --

He needs this to never *stop*, and he sits up a
little further and feels himself shooting pre-come
down Tim's *throat*, and he tugs at one of Tim's
hands.

Tim looks up, face *flushed* and eyes just so
*hungry*.

"In me. Your finger -- just -- oh fuck, Tim, you're
driving me *crazy* --"

Tim whines around his dick and Dick thrusts in
once, hard, because he *has* to and Tim
squeezes him one more time and pulls off to
breathe, and slides one of his hands between
Dick's legs.

Soft, *hesitant* touch and it makes Dick spasm
and tense and -- "Do it, just --"

In. Nothing but sweat and --

"*Fuck* --"

*In*, down on him again and it's wet and tight
and *he's* tight, tight enough for a little burn
and --

"Fuck me, Tim. *Fuck* me, I need you --"

Tim moans and --

Shoving in, sucking him, fucking him and -- so
*deep*, and Dick lets himself fall back and just
*rides* it, fucking Tim and fucking himself and
one of them is whimpering, or maybe both of
them, and Tim *crooks* his finger and Dick
comes yelling, pulsing down Tim's throat and
clenching around Tim's finger and it's so good
his *skin* hurts.

He can hear Tim coughing.

By the time he can try to do anything about it,
though, it's quiet again. Dick doesn't think he's
*solid* anymore. "Jesus, Tim."

"Yeah." Tim's voice is hoarse and low.

Dick blinks and sits up, and Tim is sitting up,
body turned crosswise to Dick and near knee
pulled up. "Tim...?"

He gets a bleary grin in response and... really
just *needs* to tackle him. Pin him down against
the floor and kiss the taste of himself out of his
mouth. "That was..." And *feel* him. "You're
hard again."

Tim blushes. "Yeah, I... you..."

Dick kisses him again and... okay, probably
should've at least gotten them to the mats. He
sucks Tim's tongue and pulls out of the kiss and
stands, dragging Tim up with him. Tim's jeans
fall down around his knees, and that's really an
*excellent* idea. Dick stumble-walks them back
to the mats, enjoying the feel of Tim clinging to
his waist. And lays them down again.

Pulls off Tim's trainers and socks and gets the
jeans and shorts the rest of the way off and
slides his hands up to cup Tim's lean thighs.
Tim's dick is dark and shiny and peeking out
from under his t-shirt, and Tim looks... dazed.
Willing. Open.

"What do you want? What can I do for you, Tim?"

"Yes..."

And it's tempting to tease, to point out that that
was a less than coherent answer, but not *now*.

Tim spreads his legs a little wider.

And maybe it *is* an answer, too. "I want you in
my bed."

"Dick --"

"After I make you come again."

"Oh, *please*..."

"Shh." Dick strokes Tim's thighs. "You're so good..."

Tim whimpers and Dick strokes a little harder.

"You made me come so *hard*, Tim."

"Oh... *oh* --"

Dick trails his fingers along Tim's cleft. "Do you
want to know how it feels? How good you made
me feel?"

Tim tenses and moans and *pushes* against
Dick's hand.

"Yeah. Just..." Dick holds on to one of Tim's
thighs and brings his other hand to his mouth,
sucking his middle finger into his mouth and
getting it good and wet.

Tim stares at him and reaches for his own dick.

Dick squeezes Tim's thigh and pulls his finger
out. "Wait."

Tim gasps and nods and gives himself a rough
little squeeze.

"Mmm, Tim." Dick teases at Tim's hole with his
finger, feeling the muscle flex and feeling sincerely
glad he'd just come. "I want you in my bed," he
says again, and Tim squeezes himself and bites
his lip.

Dick pushes in slow, petting Tim's thigh and
watching Tim pant like an animal. He pauses
halfway in and pulls out almost all the way.

"You're so hot inside, Tim. I must've been the
same way. Did it make you feel like this?"

"*Dick* --"

"Did it make you want to fuck me?" He pushes in
all the way, and Tim's eyes are *wide* and
pre-come beads at the tip of his dick. "God, I
want you..."

"*Please*, Dick..."

Dick licks his lips. "I am *never* going to be able
to talk to you without hearing you sound just like
that."

Tim arches and squeezes his eyes shut.

And opens them again when Dick slides his free
hand up to cup his balls. "There are so many
things I want to do to you," he says, and pets Tim,
just a little. It's absolutely true. Every fleeting
thought he'd had on patrol, or on some exercise
mat, or just watching Tim *move*. Like every step
was something to be considered, like nothing could
be as easy as this, right here.

"Oh God, Dick, yes..."

And it's almost *painful* to bend down, to lose
the sight of those blue eyes and that twisting,
*writhing* body, but it's worth it to *taste* Tim.

"*Oh*..."

Sweet and tangy with sweat and Dick shifts to the
side to get a better angle, working his finger in
and out as slowly as he can manage and taking
Tim *in*.

He can't keep a comfortable grip on Tim's sac,
but it's enough to slide his hands up under his
t-shirt, over that lean, smooth chest and just
ride the feel of Tim's ragged breathing.

And then push Tim *down* and hold him there,
fingers splayed, and Tim's groaning and *shaking*
and rocking up and up into his mouth. Dick sucks
him harder in encouragement and *drives* in with
his finger on the next stroke.

Tim gasps and *bucks*, but Dick's ready for it,
swallowing him deep and giving him his finger a
little faster, and Tim's socketed tight in his throat
and flexing around his finger and moaning, over
and over. No rhythm -- just low, hot *noise* that
makes Dick want to do this all *night*.

Just to hear it. Just to *have* it, because Tim's
*letting* him. Tim's hands are in his hair, shaky
and *gentle*, even now, and Tim *wants* this.
Wants it bad enough to just give it all up in Dick's
fucking *garage*, and it's nothing but what Dick
can give.

He moans around Tim's dick and those hands
tighten in his hair, and it's too soon, he wants
*more* of this , but Tim groans like Dick's
*killing* him and comes in his throat, panting
and whimpering.

Dick swallows and swallows and sucks gently
and... Tim's young. If he kept this up, it would
*hurt*, but only for a little while. And then...

And then they'd never get off the freaking
*floor*, and while that isn't the worst possible
outcome... Dick grins around Tim's dick and
pulls off and pulls out.

Tim gasps once, but doesn't move. He's laid out
flat, arms at his sides. The fingers of his left hand
curl in on themselves, just a little. Dick twines his
fingers with Tim's own and squeezes.

Tim squeezes back and makes a small and weirdly
*sweet* sound. Which just...

Dick slips his other arm under Tim's back and
hauls them both more or less upright, spreading Tim
over his lap and holding on. Mouthing his neck. Tim
tenses, and for a moment Dick thinks nearly
coherently about letting go, but then Tim wraps his
arms around Dick's waist and pushes his face
against Dick's shoulder.

"Mm, Tim. You feel good."

"You feel... better." Tim pushes his face against Dick
a little harder.

And Dick really thinks he's going to have a few
questions about this, when his idiot brain gets past
"sucked me and likes to be fingered." Like how
long Tim was thinking about this, because there's
no way in *hell* this was a whim, no matter how
much it looks like one.

Like what that might *mean*.

But Tim is breathing hot and steady against him,
and if *he's* thinking about anything...

It doesn't feel like anything to worry about.

Dick strokes Tim's hair and decides to just hold
on.

For now.

end.