Small Movements
by Te
August 1, 2005

Disclaimers: Nothing here is mine.

Spoilers/Timeline: None. Takes place in some nebulous
time before NIGHTWING #90 (and, well, everything
*else*) or so.

Summary: Dick can do the talking for both of them. He's
*good* at that.

Ratings Note: There's sex in them thar hills.

Author's Note: Judging by the date on the file, I wrote the
draft of this about four months ago, and promptly forgot
all about it. It comes pretty much directly from a sketch of
Jamie's featuring Tim in civvies, and from chatting about
the hotness of said sketch with Prop. In other words:
blatant porny schmoop.

Acknowledgments: To Jack, LC, and Prop for audiencing.


It's not torture.

'Torture' implies both maliciousness and intent, and thus
tends to rule out anything Dick would do -- certainly
everything Dick would do (to) with *him*.

It's just... well, Tim is reasonably sure Dick would refer to
this as 'hugging' or 'cuddling' or even just 'normal.' They're
in a bed -- *Dick's* bed -- and Dick isn't so much close as
half-on-top of him, and still -- *still* -- Tim knows Dick
wouldn't find anything notable about this.

While Tim has had a great number of opportunities -- many
of them even taken -- to reconsider the nature of
reality-according-to-Dick as opposed to simply reality...
well. There are still far more things Dick tends to be right
about than not. And while Tim isn't sure this degree (type?
style?) of physical contact is something he could be
reasonably expected to just accept...

He should absolutely have learned, by now, to accept it
from Dick. The man can turn a rooftop into a closet and a
sofa into a loveseat and perhaps -- just perhaps --
metaphors are another area, just now, for Tim to avoid.

And really, it's his own fault. If he hadn't decided to crash
on the edge of the bed, there'd be room now for him to
*move*. Dick would, of course, wake up if he left the bed
entirely, and --

And Dick is asleep. His breathing is deep and even
(pressing Tim against the mattress rhythmically, slightly --
*rhythmically*), and Tim can feel Dick's eyelashes fluttering
slightly against his shoulder blade and --

He doesn't want to wake Dick up.

Probably (definitely), this is just an excuse for what his hips
are -- for what *he's* doing, but he just --

He needs a little *contact*.

And the part of him which wants to point out that this is
one of the most laughably insane thoughts he's ever had in
his life has nothing whatsoever to say when countered with
the fact that Dick's sheets are rumpled in *just* the right
configuration, that Dick's mattress is firm, and that, if Tim
times every --

He doesn't want to call it a 'hump,' but it really kind of is.

-- movement of his hips just *so*, every exhale Dick
breathes (hot, damp against his back and the back of his
neck) feels almost as though Dick is *making* him do this,
forcing him with his body --

Tim doesn't want to come. He doesn't -- he's only wearing
boxers, and there's no way he'd be able to hide it in the
morning even if he *did* manage to make himself just
sleep in his own mess. It's just that Dick is warm and also
only wearing boxers and almost *draped* over him.

Almost -- no. He'd have to *work* to get out from under
Dick -- his fingers are brushing Tim's waist. Dick is holding
him *down* and Tim can't make himself *stop* thrusting
against the bed.

Not for very long, anyway. If he can just keep the
movements small, keep them quiet and subtle --

He can't stop. There's no -- there's no *good* here. He's
just making himself harder -- *needier*, but...

But it's disturbingly soothing to bite his own -- *Dick's* --
pillow, even though he doesn't, actually, have to moan or
anything else --

"Mmph. You *could* just jerk off, little brother."

-- embarrassing. Still, considering the pain in his chest, it's
possible that he's just about to *die*, in which case --

"I'm awake *now*," Dick says, squeezing with the arm
around his waist before moving it. "Don't stop. It's okay."

In which case, Dick is stroking his back, trying to *soothe*
him, and --

Dick laughs softly. "Do I have to *say* that it happens to
everyone? Because... it happens to everyone. Especially
incredibly athletic and healthy sixteen year old boys who
are stuck in awkward situations. Not that I'm --" The yawn
is loud, deep enough to move Dick against him even
*more* -- "-- speaking from experience, or anything."

And Tim doesn't know whether it's a relief or not that he's
breathing again.

"Hey, *are* you okay?"

And he absolutely *doesn't* want to roll over onto his side,
but Dick is holding on to his shoulder and *tugging* --

"Jeez, you're stiff. I -- didn't mean that one. Really. Uh."

Possibly if Tim just keeps his eyes squeezed shut then Dick
will eventually believe --

"C'mon, kiddo, you're gonna give yourself a *cramp* -- oh
Jeez. Man, okay, let me try one more time --"

"Dick --" Dick is rubbing his *chest* in hard, slow circles,
and -- "Dick, please --"

"Is there *anything* I can do to make you relax? I mean
it, you know the last thing I want is to make you

It shouldn't be a shock that Dick would do... that he would
be like *this*, even with Tim's erection doing its level best
to move the waistband of his shorts out of the way
entirely. "I... I..." He has no idea what he's supposed to

"Well, at least there's *one* part of you that's reacting

Oh, God.

"That was a *joke*. It wasn't that bad... right? Tim?" And
Dick -- stops. Stops rubbing, stops doing everything but...

Tim's eyes are still closed, but that just means it's even
harder not to feel Dick's hot breath on his face.

"C'mon, Tim, talk to me..."

He wants to. He really, *really* wants to, it's just that
that's the best *possible* warning that whatever wants to
come out of his mouth needs to stay exactly where it is.

"Do you... do you need me to leave? I don't have to sleep
here, there's --"

"No --" Case in point.

"-- a couch --"

"Don't, please --" Case in *pointed* point, and he can't
even -- now he *has* to say something else. "I --"

"-- out there. I... okay?"

And keeping his eyes squeezed shut is just starting to
*hurt*, but he manages to open them *right* when Dick
starts rubbing his chest again, and he knows his eyes are
much too wide.

"Hey, there you are."

And that... that *smile*. Like Dick is honestly just happy to
see... him. Possibly Dick's general state of being is just

"It *is* okay, I promise. God, it was only a couple of years
ago that just being *around* someone who was turned on
would make me rock hard, and --"

Tim feels himself *twitch*, and that -- that was a moan.
Oh, fuck, *Dick* --


Possibly it was a *groan*, and he can't close his eyes again,
he can barely even blink, because Dick is looking at him,
looking at -- God, watching him lick his *lips*, and --

"Um. Correct me -- *really*, please -- if I'm wrong, but..."

And Dick slides his hand down the last few inches and cups
him --

"I... I'm probably *not* reading you right --"

Cups Tim's erection in his *hand*. And -- oh fuck --

"-- and you're moaning again, like... do you like this? Do
you... do you want me to?"

It's too -- it's just Dick's hand. It's Dick's *hand*, on him
and -- "God. Oh God --"

"Because... I will. Or I'll... I'll stop, if you -- God, you feel
good in my hand. Can I --"

"*Please*, Dick --" And it's good to know that his brain has
entirely given up on allowing anything *useful* to come
out of Tim's mouth, and it's also --

It's also Dick *moaning*, reaching into Tim's shorts and --
"God. Jesus, you're hard. Let me... I'll take care of you,

And Tim thinks he might be nodding, but he can't do any
better than that, can't do anything but moan and push
into Dick's... Dick's *hand* --

"Easy, easy little brother, I've got you. I'm just..." And Dick
slides his other arm under Tim's shoulders and sits up,
pulling them both upright and pulling Tim *close*. It would
take wrestling and *effort* to get off the bed, at this point.
"Like this, okay?"

Assuming he could even *move*. Tim hears himself
choking, but... but. 'Like this' means he can turn his face
until it's pressed against the bare skin of Dick's chest, all
that warmth and -- Dick smells a little like him. Oh --

"Yeah. I've... I've got you, and I'm gonna make you come
for me, and..." Dick laughs, happy and shocked and
shocking. "Possibly I'm going to make *me* come for me,
too. God, Timmy..."

He's moaning, gasping wet and too loud against Dick's skin,
and -- and he can feel himself shooting pre-come all over
Dick's *hand* --

"Oh... oh, that's it, get nice and wet for me. Nice and
*slick* --"

Oh, God. "*Dick* --"

"Sexy. So *sexy* like this. I should've done this
*before* --"

The orgasm hits him so fast and hard that he can't even
yell, just make this breathy little whining noise and
*shake* in Dick's arms.

Dick squeezes his shoulders and... and nuzzles his hair.
He's still *holding* Tim, loosely, but --

But Tim still can't stop panting.

"Wow." And Dick's laughing again, a little, but mostly he's
*moving*. Not away -- that would be too easy -- just
enough that it's almost accidental for Tim's hand to land
on Dick's thigh.

Where Dick can catch it in his own and move it *up*
where... where Tim can feel him.

"How guilty should I feel for this, Tim? Because... heh.
Right now I'm having trouble thinking clearly."

"Dick, don't..." Tim swallows. "Don't feel guilty. I --"

"Okay, I won't. I think maybe I'll just focus on turned-on,
because..." And this laugh sounds a little *lost*.

And he... he can't. Because suddenly it's the easiest thing
in the world to shift enough that he's off Dick's *lap*
enough to *watch* his hand closing around Dick --

"Oh, Tim. *God*, you don't have to --"

"I want to. I want..." He can't finish that thought for too
many reasons, but one of them is the fact that he can
*see* what his touch (his words?) is *doing* to Dick. He
looks -- his dick is so *wet*.

"You want me?"

Tim bites his lip and -- it shouldn't be possible to blush
*harder* after getting jerked off, but the things he needs
Dick to say right now, the things he needs to *hear*  --

"I think... I've got your come all over my hand, and I can't
decide whether to wipe it off or *lick* it off -- ah fuck, Tim,
fuck --"

Squeezing, he's -- "Sorry, I --"

"Don't... don't apologize, Tim, just --"

He squeezes again, and shifts enough to get a better grip,
and. Dick's in his hand, and he's *hard*, and --

"Ohh, little brother, I think I'm keeping you. Jesus, your
*hands* --"

"I want... I want..." He doesn't know what he wants to

"Anything, you can do anything, I -- oh *God*, Tim --"

The first taste of Dick on his tongue makes his mouth
water, makes him moan and *squeeze* and lick the
pre-come away and --

"Oh, so good, it's so good, you don't -- don't stop --"

-- makes him *aware* that he's sucking Dick off, as
opposed to just doing it, and sucking doesn't make him
stop moaning, it just... it just makes it *better*, because
Dick is shaking --

"Tim -- Tim, your mouth --"

And petting him. His back, and his shoulders and his face.
One hand. Because --

Wet sounds. "Oh God, I'm tasting you -- I wanna suck
you, too --"

And Tim's dick twitches *hard*, much too soon and he
can't stop squeezing Dick's dick and he can't stop *sucking*
on the head, and he doesn't know if it's too hard or too
soft, but he can hear Dick sucking his own fingers again --

Sucking Tim's *come* off his fingers, and it's --

He's --

"Stroke -- stroke me a little. I just -- oh God, yes, Tim, just
like -- just like that --"

Dick's hips are moving, now, short thrusts that push Dick
into his hand and into his *mouth* -- *fucking* his mouth,
and Tim hears himself whimpering --

"Ah, God, is it too much? Do -- do you need me to stop?
I..." Another choked laugh. "I *think* I can... stop --"

Tim strokes faster and sucks *harder* --

"God, no I *can't*, Tim -- Tim, you're gonna make me
come -- oh, don't ever *stop* making those noises, you're
driving me *crazy* --"

And Dick has one hand *in* Tim's hair now, still petting
more than pulling, but --

But it just feels good, feels --

A little tug for every gasping moan, for every *thrust* into
his mouth and his hand, and Tim's humping the *mattress*

"You're so good, God I can't believe you're so *good* --"

Anything, he'd do *anything* --

"-- can't wait to touch you again, Tim, can't -- oh
*God* --"

And the first splash of Dick's come in his mouth makes him
groan even louder, makes him cough --

"*Timmy* --"

-- and pull back until he can make himself *swallow*.

"You want it -- oh fuck, oh fuck you *want* it --"

He does. He wants -- he wants everything and now Dick
*knows*, and Tim can't believe he didn't realize that all he
really needed to make that *okay* was for Dick to be
coming in his mouth at the time.

Tim manages to pull off, but it's more because he's
coughing again than anything else. And he can't actually
move his head further away than Dick's thigh.

And Dick... pets him. His hair, and his back. His face, with.
With his *other* hand. The hand that was in Dick's
*mouth*, and it feels ridiculous to lick Dick's fingers but
not as much as it feels *good*.

"Oh, Tim..."

And if Dick's fingers are in his mouth, then he doesn't have
to worry about saying anything more coherent than a
moan. Dick can do the talking for both of them. He's
*good* at that. Especially since Dick starts thrusting, a
little. Slow and not-serious and still impossibly sexy.

"Are you..." Dick shivers a little and laughs, again. "I was
going to ask if you were hard again, but I'm pretty sure I
should ask if you're *okay*."

Tim bites his fingers, but Dick still pulls them out of his

"Hey --"

"Yes." Call it a pre-emptive strike.

Dick squeezes his shoulder. "Yes, you're okay, or --"

"I -- both."

Another squeeze, and then Dick is pushing him, rolling Tim
over onto his back again and lying down on top of him
and -- "Is this okay?"

"Yes. Dick --"

"Good. Just... you feel..."

And it probably shouldn't seem so *important* to slide his
hands under Dick's arms, to stroke *his* back, and find all
the scars he can reach, but...

But it is, and it makes Dick *move*. Up against his hands
and down against *him*, and knowing Dick's eyes are
closed is completely meaningless against *seeing* them
when Dick opens them again.

And smiles at him.

"Dick --"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please --"

"I mean, we don't -- you can --"

Dick doesn't really stop talking when Tim kisses him. He
just does it *differently*. With his tongue and his teeth
and the way he rubs his own abdomen against Tim's dick.
With the soft -- *good* -- sounds he's making into Tim's

With the way he just does it again, and again, and Tim
feels a little drunk and weirdly *light*, like the only thing
holding him down on the bed is Dick, like if Dick moved...

Tim... clutches. That's really the *only* word for it, and --

"Mmm. Not going anywhere. Trust me."

He does. He --

"And you don't have to stop holding on, either. Heh. I
*like* it."

"God, Dick --"

"I like *you*," Dick says, and grins at him, and pushes up
on one hand just high enough to reach between them with
his other hand and *squeeze*. "Or maybe you already
figured that out."

He... it's definitely. Definitely a *possibility* --

"Is this what you were thinking about when you were..."
And Dick *moves* against him and squeezes -- "... trying
to be subtle?" A grin, and Dick -- licks his *mouth*. "Is it
what you wanted?"

At this point, Tim is reasonably sure he wasn't thinking
anything but variations on 'Dick,' 'right there,' and
'exclamation point,' but... "Yes. I... I want you."

"You could've *told* me."

Really, really, really --

Dick laughs, again. "Okay, so maybe not. But..." And Dick
shifts again, sliding his hands between Tim's ass and the
sheet --

"Oh --"

And squeezing. "God, you feel good. You --"

"So do. So do you --"

"We can... I meant it. We can do anything."

It feels like Dick's saying something incredibly obvious, like
'the Batmobile is beautiful,' or 'Alfred's a really good cook.'
It just also feels --

"So long as anything includes me sucking you."

"Oh. God..."

Another... another *grind*, and Dick moves his hand, but
he just gives Tim back his whole *body* and -- "Do you
know how hot you were? You... your cheeks..." He strokes
Tim's face and *looks* at him, and it's *that* hand --

Tim can smell *himself* -- "Dick, please, Dick --"

"They were all... hollowed-out. You were sucking me so
*hard* --"

"Did -- was it --" Too hard. Did you like it. Please let me do
it again. "I..."

"And your mouth. Hot little *mouth*," and Dick is pressing
on his lower lip with his thumb, dragging it down and away
from Tim's teeth, a little. And --

And this kiss is hard, and wet, and so... Dick isn't really
thrusting against him, but he's *moving*. Tilting Tim's face
up and stroking Tim's legs with the insides of his own,
and --

"You shouldn't *keep* secrets like that from me."

And Tim knows -- he *knows* Dick wanted that to be a
joke. It's just that it wasn't. "I won't. Anymore," he says,
and the smile on Dick's face is... different.

"Good. Now, where was I..."

"I --"

"Oh, yeah. Sucking you *off*."

"Dick, you --"

"I want you to come in my mouth. Like I came in yours. I
want..." Dick strokes Tim's lip again, sliding it through the
spit there. "You know what I want, right?"

He's down to nodding again, breathing through his
mouth -- *panting* -- and Dick... Dick just *stares* at his
mouth for long moments, almost glares --

"Jesus, Tim. I -- tell me you want it --"

"Yes --"

"Tell me you *want* it --"

"Dick, *yes*, I --"

And Dick moves -- *fast* -- taking a moment to squeeze
Tim's shoulders and press them down against the bed
before --

"*Dick* --"

Tongue in his *navel*, stabbing, licking -- teeth. Dick
scraping his teeth down and down  --

"Oh God -- *God* --"

"I should... I should take it slow. Make it good --"

"Please, oh God please --"

"I -- I wanna show you -- I want -- fuck, Timmy --"

And Dick -- Dick is *still* talking, actually talking, just
around Tim's *dick* this time. Going down and saying --

Tim doesn't know *what* he's saying, just that it's making
this messy, hotter, making Tim arch and *thrust* and --

"Suck me, God, suck me Dick, I want you, I want -- I want
you --"

And Dick grabs his hips and -- *swallows* him, swallows
around him and holds him *in*, and every noise Tim
makes sounds cracked and broken and too loud, but he
can't stop, he can't --

"*Dick* --"

Pulling *off*, licking his lips and licking the head of Tim's
dick, and "I want everything. Want to make you come for
me again, little brother --"

And going down again before Tim can even whimper at
the loss, licking all the way, and the bump of Tim's dick
against the back of Dick's throat makes him shout, makes
him jerk and *shake* --

"Oh -- *ohh* -- *God* --"

Off again, and -- "I don't. I don't mean to tease you. I
just... I don't even know what you *like* --"

And Tim feels himself *straining* against the hold Dick has
on his hips, but he can't stop and he can't even *beg*
anymore -- just groan and sob and *sob* when Dick sucks
hard on the head. When Dick's cheeks hollow out, just
like --

Just like --

White-out. Or black-out. He can't tell and he doesn't
*care*, because Dick is moaning and *swallowing*.

Because Dick is --

Is --

Tim hits the bed again hard enough to knock most of the
breath out of his body.

And moans.

And *shakes*, because Dick is licking him. His thighs and
his balls, and then Dick pushes his thighs apart and *sucks*
his balls, and Tim opens his mouth to scream, but all that
comes out is a whimper. And another when Dick pulls off.

"Sorry. I --" Dick laughs, rusty and hoarse, and kisses
Tim's thighs. And his abdomen, and his chest, and his neck,
and his cheek. And then settles over him again, blanketing
him and holding him down.

There's almost certainly something he can -- *should* --
say, at this point. "Uh." Or possibly not.

"Next time..." Dick kisses his ear. "Next time I can maybe
show a *little* finesse."

"Nn." It was almost a word. Of some kind.

"I think... I think..."

But Dick doesn't finish the thought, and Tim has no idea
how to help.

"I think I need to go back to sleep."

"Okay." A word. This is improvement.

Dick laughs, softly. "Will you bolt if I don't sleep *on* you?
Wait. Will you be able to sleep *with* me on you?"

He's not actually sure if he'll ever sleep again. Not in a
*bad* way, just... "It's... it's okay. I just. I don't. I'm not
sure, and --"

"Hey, tell me I didn't just... you're okay, right?"

Okay isn't the word. "Yes. I." It takes a surprising amount
of effort to move his arms, but they fit just as well under
Dick's as they did before. And touching Dick like this --
*holding* Dick like this -- makes him make this soft sound
that's just...

"Mmm. I'll let you breathe if you promise no more secrets.

He doesn't want to breathe.

"Tim --"

"I... I promise," he says. And holds on tighter. Which just
leaves him sprawled *over* Dick when Dick rolls them
over. "I --"

"Mm, this works, too," Dick says, and strokes Tim's back.
"This works," he says, yawning, "really well."


Dick cups the back of Tim's head and pushes until he rests
it against Dick's chest. "Like that."

"Okay," Tim says again, and listens to Dick breathe.