Lex watches Tim centering himself --

*Marshalling* himself --

For a moment -- just one -- Tim had come close to breaking character. That business about never breaking, never surrendering...

Yes, that's *precisely* the sort of thing the *real* Bruce Wayne -- the boy and man he's known and *never* known -- would drill into an impressionable child.

One moment -- and Lex could've pressed his advantage. The fact that he *hadn't* --

The fact that it was infinitely more important to get Tim -- his *lover* -- *off*...

Well, it's a fact. A pointy, stabby, irritating -- no, not that.

He was newly seventeen when he'd fallen in love with Bruce, and nineteen when he'd fallen in love with Mercy. He's thus had an *exceedingly* large amount of time to deal with those emotions -- and what they do to him.

What they make him need.

This boy...

This violent little liar of a justice-addled *psycho* --

It's so much easier to imagine Tim giving himself to Bruce than it is to imagine him giving himself to the motherfucking *Batman* -- no. That's a question he can't ask... yet.

Lex closes his eyes and kisses Tim's shoulder, giving himself one of the all-too-few areas which *isn't* scarred in some way --

And admits to himself that this would be a lot more difficult without the scars. It's possible -- probable -- that Tim would still be *deeply* diverting without his years of running around rooftops --

("Some of us like to keep our feet on the ground.")

But.

He'd be even younger than he is. He'd be --

Lex shivers internally and -- convinces himself not to kiss a path down Tim's chest and abdomen to that wonderfully hard cock --

Tim sighs. "I'm. I'm working on it. Finding the things to say, I mean."

"I know. It's all right." How *much* of your fear has to do with the mask a part of you would rather be wearing? *That* would be a complication. He's *going* to get Tim over his issues -- by main force if necessary -- but if the lies between them need to be aired...

Is he willing to surrender what he knows -- no, he isn't.

Not yet. Not --

Lex kisses Tim's shoulder again, kisses and fantasizes about --

No, he doesn't actually want to chain Tim in a dungeon somewhere until he submits. It's not that he doesn't think it would work -- that sort of thing *always* works to at least a certain extent -- it's that it would be a *hollow* victory.

And -- other unfortunate and problematic things, too.

Lex closes his eyes to hide his internal wince --

"I -- Lex, I don't want to make you *wait*."

-- not well. Lex opens his eyes and smiles wryly. "You're in my bed, Tim."

"Yes, but --"

"You're in my bed and thinking -- deeply -- about how to go about being open and honest with me."

"You're *hard*, Lex!"

"And so are you. We're both going to make a lot of noise when we come, darling. Eventually."

Tim's expression is sour, irritated, *thorny* -- and honestly worried. He...

"Do you think you'll bore me?" Have you started to worry about losing me?

"You've -- dealt with all of this before."

Never. Never -- "Never like this."

"Lex --"

Lex holds up a hand -- and it's a sign of any number of things that it actually *stops* Tim --

He doesn't even look *pissy* about it --

"Oh, darling..." Lex leans in and kisses Tim's temple. "I have not yet found an adequate way to tell you what you're worth to me..." And I won't until we can discuss your *secrets*... "But I will."

"You -- need me."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Is that easier to deal with?"

"Easier to -- comprehend? Easier to desire... fuck, Lex, I don't know," and Tim pinches the bridge of his nose again.

Tell me your secrets, darling. Come to me and lay them at my *feet* -- no. He is --

Lex is, in fact, capable of patience. He tugs Tim's hand away from his face --

And Tim gives him the sort of bleakly *sad* look which really ought to be withering *both* of their erections. The fact that it isn't --

Is something to be explored at a later time. "All right, darling, let me give this a try?"

"You -- couldn't possibly be worse at it than I am."

Lex laughs and moves to straddle Tim, pressing his shoulders down to the bed --

"*Ohn* --"

"Shh, darling. Just... let this calm you a little."

"Ah. Lex."

Lex grins. "Think of it this way -- we're *both* getting something we want right now."

Tim opens his mouth --

Closes it --

And glares. Witheringly.

"Oh, darling, I'd tell you to stop *encouraging* me... no, I wouldn't. Ever."

Tim snorts. "All right, Lex. *Analyze* me."

"All right, let's look at the facts: You start losing cohesion when you start losing control -- and yes, the two are different. Next, you're terrified of even *appearing* 'weak' or 'needy' -- and if you ever actually *become* needy... the sky falls. *Next*... you're far more inclined toward responding to the needs of others than to your own needs... or to those others' other emotions. Arguments? Corrections?"

"Ah... no."

"Good. I happen to be *intimately* familiar with someone who has just a few of the same traits," Lex says, and raises an eyebrow.

"I -- Hope."

"Oh, yes. She, of course, was constantly, viciously, and brutally abused by the entirety of her family for the entirety of her childhood and adolescence --"

"I wasn't --"

"I know, darling. Janet wasn't the *type* to go after a person with an extension cord -- or even order the nanny to do it. She was, however, exactly the type to view people who needed things -- *any* things, at all -- with contempt."

Tim swallows. "You're -- getting dangerously close to where I'll need to draw the line, Lex."

"Thanks for the warning. We'll move it to hypotheticals, shall we...?"

"Ah... all right," Tim says, and a frown shadows his brow --

Lex squeezes Tim's shoulders *firmly* --

"Oh -- Lex."

"Right here, darling. Let's say we have a child. She's smart -- positively brilliant,  actually -- and quite loving, if only to the people she sees as being worth it. She'd like to make the world a better place, but she isn't quite sure how to go about it. She asks her parents about it -- her parents are some of the smartest people she knows -- and they tell her she's adorable and send her off. She thinks she hasn't asked the right questions, so she puts her mind to it -- her impressively *precocious* mind -- and comes up with even more questions."

"What happens then?"

You tell me -- no, not that. "What happens is that her parents get... oh, a certain look in their eyes. The little girl doesn't know what that look means, so she keeps asking her questions. The answers get slower. More distracted. They're not looking at her, anymore. They -- or perhaps just one of them -- says... something. It probably isn't a *scold* -- that would be crass -- but."

Tim closes his eyes. "The little girl in question is left with the distinct sense that she's been... a nuisance. That she's wasted her parents' time, which she already knows is valuable --" Tim swallows and opens his eyes again. "Don't say it."

"Hypotheticals only, darling. For instance, the little girl sees that look at other times, as well. Like, for an example, when she wants a *hug*."

"Lex --"

"The little girl made the *terrible* mistake of being born a *primate*, after all --"

"I'm *capable* of *cuddling*, Lex."

"The little girl was lucky enough to *eventually* find people who actually *enjoyed* touching her -- "

Tim growls. It is, in fact, rather more *pointedly* menacing than the growl which happens when he's -- more -- aroused.

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"You know precisely -- look, Lex. *I* didn't murder my parents. I thus have no great need to continue speaking ill of them."

"Oh, darling --"

"You love it when I stab you. Yes, I've *noticed* --"

"I also love it when you come *close* to comprehending what was done to you. Go on, darling. Get even closer."

"Look, I -- I wasn't close to my parents. I had my own life for... a very long time --"

"Who was in it who knew you? The heart of you, I mean."

"I -- no one. For a long time, but --"

"*But*... the little girl, being both little and impressionable, began to think that her parents -- the pinnacle of her world -- didn't need the things *she* needed. If *they* didn't need it, then she *surely* didn't need it. She was greedy. Grasping. *Pathetic*."

"They never *treated* me -- like that -- Lex --"

"Did they have to?"

Tim takes a quick breath --

Looks *wounded* --

And Lex is struck, suddenly and *ridiculously*, with the need to change the *subject*. Just --

He's making *progress*! He can't just --

And Tim blinks. "Lex? Are you all right?"

Lex scowls and turns away --

"As entertaining as I find that expression..."

"Ellipsis, yes. I --" What is he supposed to *do* with this? He has to be *rational*. It's the only possible *way* --

"I -- I *am* feeling much better, Lex."

"I believe you," Lex says, and -- looks at Tim. Because -- "A boy like you... who allowed you to give them comfort when you were a child, Tim? Was there anyone?"

Tim blinks. "I -- one of the nannies. One of her cousins died in a motorcycle accident, and I was able to keep her... out of my mother's way until the grieving was more... subtle."

Oh, you little -- hero. Lex nods and cups Tim's lovely face. "Darling, I want you to be happy."

"I -- know that. Several people want that, and it's been very... ah..."

"Stressful?"

Tim's smile is a *twist* of a thing -- "Yes, as a matter of fact. I recognize that that's an... unworthy attitude."

"'Unworthy.' Hm. No, I don't think so, darling."

"No...?"

"No. It's *precisely* the sort of thing anyone -- *anyone* -- with your background would feel."

"Lex --"

"Think about it, darling. Just for a moment."

Tim glares at him -- but his heart isn't in it, this time. A *moment* of looking visibly distressed had... shifted Tim's priorities. And created in him a need to... help.

Of course. The desire to use that reflex is only natural for him.

The desire to *kick* himself for that desire is -- natural to parts of him he'd kept buried for --

Too long.

The *knowledge* that he won't be able to use that reflex without first sacrificing even more of his self is belated, but not terribly so. The *question* is if he's willing to --

No, of course he is. When he was Tim's age, he'd known in his *bones* that there was such a thing as enlightened -- and uplifting -- ruthlessness, and he had striven to *embody* it. He'd lost that along the way, but he is still *himself*. He can have it again.

He *will* have it again. For now...

Tim is watching him curiously, undoubtedly reading some *frightening* fraction of Lex's thoughts... well.

"Darling. Conclusions?"

Tim blinks and smiles ruefully. "It's normal for me to find that sort of care stressful... because it implies I need others to work for me in order to function."

"Oh, yes. And?"

"Need... is human. I know this, Lex --"

"But you're above it?"

Tim raises an eyebrow. "If I wasn't decidedly above average in multiple respects, you wouldn't *want* me."

"Or need you, or love you... but. I'm not in love with an android, darling."

"I'm not *trying* to be an android --"

"Your arrogance is, for the most part, *entirely* deserved... but arrogance is never as attractive as confidence."

Tim inhales sharply once more and narrows his eyes. "And undeserved arrogance is even less attractive than that?"

"And actively *ludicrous* arrogance is even less attractive than *that*, yes."

Tim -- starts to sneer. He firms his mouth into a hard line, instead.

"Darling... remember what you want."

"What I need, Lex...?"

"What you *will* need when we get back to... pleasure."

"We could start now."

Lex smiles and shakes his head. "I was just considering the nature of enlightened ruthlessness."

"Yes...?"

"I will *only* brutalize you in order to make you an ultimately happier person."

"Happier people need a lot *less*, Lex --"

"No, they don't, darling."

Tim narrows his eyes.

Lex raises an eyebrow --

Tim *shutters* his eyes... perfectly. Lex's cock doesn't *quite* twitch for it, but really --

"What does your girlfriend do when you do that?"

"You're *not* my boyfriend, so --"

"Humor me, darling. I *promise* I'll pay for it in any way you'd like."

Tim rears back -- "You'll turn me into someone who *abuses* you --"

"I'm afraid I *don't* have that particular superpower, darling. Try again."

"I -- let go."

Lex does so and raises an eyebrow again --

And Tim moves off the bed and starts to pace in gracefully economical motions. Without either his boots or his *needier* arousal, all trace of the supermodel is gone, leaving something spare and *subtly* dangerous.

This, Lex thinks, is the heart of him -- or, at the very least, what *protects* the heart of him from people like Lex --

And better people, too.

Lex sits back against the headboard and promises his cock -- almost anything it wants in return for patience, and the opportunity to appreciate Tim aesthetically and intellectually --

Tim stops by the window and crosses his arms over his chest with an impatient sort of *snap*.

He would, almost certainly, rather be swinging around on a jump line. Or perhaps beating the unholy hell out of someone deserving. Or --

Making love to someone else?

*That* is a pain he's going to have to deal with. Sooner or later, Tim *will* move past his issues enough to start playing with the undoubtedly large number of people who *wish* to play with him.

It won't always be simply play --

It may *never* be simply play. A boy like Tim...

Lex moves one hand into the shadow of his hip and clenches it into a fist, harder and harder until there's pain --

A need to *destroy* --

A need to *have* -- ah. Tim, at least, does not always need his dominance, and he certainly doesn't always need his control. "Please, Tim."

Tim gasps and stiffens.

"That word from me... and the emotion behind it, darling?"

"I -- she slaps me when I blank myself."

Lex blinks --

Fights back the urge to lecture Tim about abusive relationships --

Fights it *back* --

Tim snorts. "It's an amazingly effective way to remind me not to do that. Be that."

*Back* --

"Oh... Lex," and Tim smiles at him from over his shoulder. "You're not allowed to rescue me from the woman I love."

That -- "Fine. You're not allowed to rescue me from the boy *I* love."

Pursed lips and a glare --

"For that matter, I have no problem whatsoever with nurturing your drives toward violent sociopathy --"

"Lex."

"*But* -- only if it doesn't interfere overmuch with your *actual* emotions. Which are... beautiful."

"*Lex*."

"Yes, darling?"

"What you've *seen* of my emotions --" Tim growls and turns back to the city. "I know I'm -- human."

"Yes?"

"I'm still supposed to be better than that. More than that."

They're *dead* -- no, not that. There's still the motherfucking *Batman* to be considered -- "There is nothing 'better' than that."

"Rather speciesist, don't you think?"

Well. "Even the ubermensch has a *wife*, darling."

Tim turns and frowns at him. "You're saying you know his secret identity."

I'm *saying* that you already *knew* I did -- no, no, no. "Oh, yes."

"I... can't decide if I want you to share with the class or not," and Tim's frown gets somewhat deeper --

*Thoughtfully* deeper --

Who *taught* you how to lie, darling? *Was* it your mother? *Bruce* had to make up an entirely new *person* to get away with his lies. You...

Didn't.

Lex pulls on a smile of his own, closing his eyes and tilting his head back in order to hide as much as he can. "I'll tell you, if you'd like to know. I don't intend to have any secrets from you that you don't *wish* me to have."

"Lex..."

That -- "Is that *guilt* in your voice, darling?" And Lex focuses on Tim again. "Stop that immediately. *Please*."

Tim flips him off. "A sense of *fairness* --"

"Is the close cousin to *pity*. And I'd rather you walk out the door tonight than give me *that*."

Tim turns to look *pointedly* at Lex's bulge.

"Really. All right, darling, here," Lex says, standing and skinning out of his boxer briefs. "Here I am. Naked, hairless, and painfully aroused. If you can't give me anything but pity tonight? Get out."

Tim blinks and shudders -- and then deliberately stares at Lex's groin. And licks his lips.

"That's a *much* better look on your face, darling. *Still*."

"I'm not -- it's just that I've never wanted to be. Abusive," Tim says, and smiles ruefully. And *then* looks up.

"The choice is *always* yours," Lex says, and sits back down on the bed with his back to the headboard. "Just as the choice is mine whether to allow myself to *be* abused. *Pity* is the worst thing you can give me."

"I... don't think that's true."

"Stop feeling *guilty* about your *secrets*. We've just met and you've been *trained* to hide everything about yourself. Everything *important*, anyway."

Tim gives him a sour look. "I'm not a *spy*, Lex."

Work for me -- no. Not now. "More's the pity -- you'd be *fantastic* at it. But... I was speaking of Janet who, let's recall, I've *met*."

"You barely *knew* her --"

"I had her stalked *just* as much as I've had you stalked, darling. And -- let's be frank -- you're a better liar than she ever was."

Tim frowns again -- and turns back to the window. "She taught me... she taught me a great deal. *Useful* things."

"Of course. And you taught *yourself* even more things -- all of which were useful for getting you through a ridiculously lonely childhood. You're -- almost -- an adult now. Put the childish things away."

Tim takes a deep breath and rolls his head on his neck. "Personal reserve as... childishness. Interesting."

"Darling. We both know that *wasn't* what I meant."

Silence --

Silence --

Lex *waits* --

And Tim slumps. "Yes. We do. I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven --"

"You know all about that sort of thing. Lonely childhoods, I mean."

Lex narrows his eyes reflexively -- no, not that. When someone is worth your time --

When there is love --

When there is need that fucking *burns* -- "Yes, I do. Would you like to hear about mine?"

Tim straightens again -- and looks back at him from over his shoulder. His sparkle is rising just a *little* -- "Would you like to tell me?"

"Yes and no. Yes, because it could help illustrate my points *and* could get you even closer to truly comprehending how I feel about you. No, because all good, right-thinking people hate to whine -- whether or not whining is what they're actually doing."

"It's... one of the reasons I don't like to speak about my parents."

"I know, darling. You'll need to do it with *someone* someday just the same. Sooner rather than later."

"Because... it will help with my issues."

That wasn't a question -- but Lex inclines his head just the same.

"I... let me just... spew this out."

"Go on, please. I want you to."

Tim firms his mouth into a hard line again --

And then he relaxes and turns back to face the window. "One, Bruce has been more of a *traditional* parent to me than either my mother or my father were. My stepmother came close -- she certainly tried -- but I didn't let her. Just as I didn't let my father after he came out of that coma. Not even after he made me --" Tim makes a soft sound and shakes his head. "Anyway. Intellectually, emotionally, and physically, Bruce has been my father. I know that must be difficult to credit, but... he's a different man when we're alone together."

Oh, darling... "I already knew he had to show worth to you. Even if he only has a fraction of the worth he had as a boy... well."

Tim nods without turning around. "Two. Two is... I didn't start receiving physical affection on a regular basis until... until Dick and Steph entered my life. When I was fourteen."

"I'll say only this, darling: For this honesty, there is little you can't ask for from me. I ask only that you allow me my other loves."

"You... you love your... Virtues."

"They are my family -- among many, many other things."

Another nod. "I will never... try to come between you."

But you may try to maim them...? "Thank you."

"Three. People who need too many things are burdensome, and can *only* be pitied. Never loved. Never needed in turn. I will stipulate that what I've been taught -- and what I've taught myself -- about the definition of 'too many' is... problematic."

Lex catches himself stroking the bed instead of *Tim* -- "May I join you over there?"

"Not... yet. Please."

"All right."

*Another* nod, and this one is almost curt. "Four. When I'm aroused enough, I feel... I can feel everything I've built around myself to protect my loved ones *from* myself... crumbling. I know, intellectually, that Bruce would've done nearly anything to reach those parts of me that I try to hide. I know that he has a fair idea of what those parts are like. I know that he *wants* them. *All* of them. But I don't know what I'll do when he stops," Tim says, and his voice is -- small.

Lex is *clutching* the sheets -- "'When,' Tim...?"

"I wasn't always -- don't say anything in response to the next thing I say, all right?"

This is going to be -- awful. "I promise I'll only respond to something... else."

Tim laughs *bitterly* -- and briefly. "All right, Lex. Five. Before -- and after -- his coma, my father would occasionally... strike up conversations with me about what he perceived to be my interests. The next day there'd be more questions, and on the *next* day there'd be... something. An article he'd read that dovetailed with the interest in question. Some documentary on television. Something. And then on the *next* day... there'd be nothing. And, within a week, he'd have only the vaguest sense that I had expressed an interest in anything, at all. So... 'when,' yes." 

Lex closes his eyes and breathes.

And snarls --

Tim can do nothing with his rage other than seek to ameliorate it in the interest of preserving something like a *sense* of a happy childhood --

A wisp of *fantasy* --

It's not his right to take that away from Tim. It's not --

It's his right to give Tim a better today, and, hopefully, an even better tomorrow. It's his right to help Tim *accept* those days -- and more.

He stops snarling. "Tim... go on."

Tim shivers. He's less crossing his arms over his chest than *hugging* himself --

Fuck. Lex slips off the bed and closes the distance between them, cupping Tim's shoulders and kissing his temple. "I'm here."

"So you are. I'm -- enjoying that."

"It's yours."

"Mm. Six... I suppose six is really five-a. I never considered that, but... well. I suppose it's human to occasionally be staggeringly dim about one's motivations and emotional realities."

"Very much so. Please tell me."

"I don't trust anyone. At all. I told my girlfriend that she was the exception to the rule -- and she *is* -- but... she's only the exception to the *surface* rule. I... it would be breaking a confidence to say more than that about the surface rule."

A confidence? Or Batman's secrets? Lex massages Tim's shoulders lightly. "All right. What of the foundation rule?"

"Everything -- and everyone -- fails, sooner or later. Nothing lasts forever -- not even love. Familiarity breeds contempt -- *always*."

And that -- Lex laughs. He really can't help it --

"Ah. Lex?"

"I'm sorry -- ah." Lex coughs. "You're making me forget which of us is the embittered old man."

"You're neither old *nor* embittered --"

"But you're -- both." Lex kisses Tim's temple. "May I share a life lesson?"

He can see enough of Tim's eyes to see them narrowing -- no more than that.

"If you let me share it, I promise to only have my Virtues assassinate truly reprehensible people from now on."

"You were going to do that *anyway* -- ah. Hm."

"Oh, darling. I do believe my feelings are sinking *in*," Lex says, as obnoxiously as possible --

"You -- you're something of an asshole, Lex."

"Very true. How's this: if you let me share the life lesson, we can talk about anything you'd like for the rest of the night... or nothing, at all."

And Tim's erection had dipped *profoundly* -- but it begins to rise again. And he presses himself back against Lex --

And he gasps --

And reaches back to stroke Lex's hips.

"Is that a yes, darling...?"

Tim closes his eyes -- and *claws* Lex's hips.

"Oh -- very nice. But I still need --"

Another *rake* of Tim's nails -- ended abruptly. "Damn. I -- what I did to your forearms..."

"They're going to look *deeply* interesting for the next day. Don't worry about it, darling -- I *don't* wear short-sleeved shirts. Or pants that expose my hips, for that matter."

"It seems..." Tim sighs and begins rubbing himself against Lex again, very obviously taking a large amount of pleasure in doing it.

It does and *doesn't* suggest a desire to rub off against him. It *absolutely* suggests a desire to be *touched* more -- whether sexually or not. Lex can't decide whether he wants to inform Tim about it or *not* -- no, not now. "Go on, Tim."

"I... I don't want to use you."

"Then --"

"Don't just tell me *not* to -- I. Tell me. Give me the life lessons I've somehow missed out on."

"And make it quick...?"

"*Lex* --"

Lex grips Tim's hips and holds them still -- no. Tim *allows* Lex to hold him still. "Darling. Absolutely everyone fails, sooner or later. The difference between the vast majority of the world and the people *you* have allowed to get close to you -- including myself -- is that *after* we fail, we will damned well try *again*. And quite possibly succeed."

Silence for a long moment --

Lex *strokes* Tim's hips --

"Is that it?"

Lex laughs helplessly. "Apparently not. All right: Nothing lasts forever, not even love. Some things, however, last a very, very long time -- including love. If and when I lose my Virtues -- or they lose me -- we will still have had a great deal of happiness together. Warmth, intimacy, pleasures sexual and otherwise, and love of various sorts. Most of that love would have no part in a Benchmark card, but... we both know that doesn't matter. Don't we...?"

"There are no guarantees, Lex. There are -- Mercy could decide to *leave* you because of me --"

"Very, very true. And that would... that would break me to a certain extent --"

"*Yes* --"

"Wait, darling," Lex says, and squeezes Tim's hips.

Tim shivers and lowers his head, and the back of his neck grows pink. He... wants to be convinced.

By *him* --

Lex grins and fights back the urge to throw Tim down on the bed --

The floor --

Against a *wall* -- later. "Are you ready, Tim...?"

"I -- yes."

Ready and *braced*, yet -- well, darling, here it is. "I was in love with Bruce. *Madly* so. Only one thing could've kept me from following his lead *anywhere*, and that was my need to *end* Lionel Luthor. I knew quite well by then that if he ever found out the truth, he would -- at the very least -- turn away from me, but..." Lex sighs and strokes Tim's hips. "I told myself that his care for me -- his *love* -- would let us both have plausible deniability. Even then I knew it was a lie.... well, I had to do it, and I don't regret it. Just as I don't regret having let myself fall for Bruce, let myself *need* him* --"

"If it was need -- no, go on."

"There was, in fact, a hole in my life without him. An ache *nothing* could touch... until, with time, it faded."

Tim covers Lex's hands on his hips, scratches lightly --

"Yes, darling?"

"How... how can you justify..." Tim shakes his head. "I think you might be stronger than I am."

"It's human to be afraid of pain, darling --"

"I'm not -- ah." Tim laughs quietly. "It was... that good with him."

"Conversation, comfort, an end to loneliness -- and I was a lonely, lonely boy," Lex says, and pulls Tim against him. "Bruce taught me that I didn't *have* to be lonely -- not forever. Without him, I might not have been ready for Mercy. Not truly."

Tim stiffens --

*Starts* to turn --

And then goes back to pressing himself against Lex as firmly as he can. Lex has to strain a little to keep from stepping *back* --

"Darling..."

"Sorry -- sorry."

"No. I love this."

"You -- you honestly believe you won't regret this."

Robin... "I know I won't."

"Even if I -- somehow -- betray you."

"Even then."

"And yet *I'm* the romantic."

Lex hums. "I never claimed not to be. I just save my romanticism for the worthy. Ready for the last life lesson? For the moment, I mean."

Tim sighs and drags Lex's right hand to his abdomen --

Lex *scratches* Tim's abdomen --

"*Hnh* --"

And Lex watches Tim's cock twitch. Hmm. "You've wanted to be preyed on."

"Ah -- all good, right-thinking people do from time to time?"

Lex grins helplessly. "I'll devour you whole, darling..."

"Bruce already -- ah."

"No one else gets to swallow your cock...?"

"I... didn't say that?" Tim laughs at himself ruefully. "Not tonight, please."

"All right. May I...?"

"Please."

Lex nips the upper curve of Tim's ear --

"Oh -- Lex."

"Let me make you come screaming every day, darling."

"You have to go back to *Metropolis* --"

"I *don't* have to go alone."

Tim pants -- "Just -- tell me --"

"The question of familiarity is... thorny. It does, in fact, breed contempt -- even between the happiest lovers."

"I was afraid --  go on."

"It's really quite simple, Tim: adapt or die. If you cannot please your lover the way you normally would -- try something new. If your lifelong habits make your lover cringe -- find a new habit. If --"

"If your lover suddenly hates you, become someone *new*, Lex?"

"Not *quite* that. Love is worthless if you can't be who you truly are. Love isn't *love* if you can't be who you are. But -- who we are is not set in stone. With will and determination, we can be whoever we wish to be, darling. I know precisely who I wish to be."

"You're -- you shouldn't change yourself for *anyone*."

"*Except* for yourself. I love you, darling, and you absolutely own a large fraction of me... but, in the end, I'm changing *back* to the man I wanted to be when I was your age. Back to the man I always should've *been*. And I'm doing it for no one but myself... because I believe in doing *everything* necessary to get what I want."

"What happens to me when you decide that what you want is... I don't know. A totalitarian regime. The death of Superman. An end to -- I don't know," and Tim steps away and turns to face him. To *study* him. "You couldn't keep yourself from committing murder -- not even to be able to keep the boy you loved. The boy you *needed*. You, ultimately, needed to murder your father more."

"Yes."

Tim raises a pointed eyebrow.

You're Robin, darling... and you haven't said word one about me murdering the profoundly deserving. You -- "You're not Bruce."

"I --"

"You're not Bruce, darling. You... believe that some people deserve to die. Perhaps the Joker...?"

Tim flushes, *darkly* embarrassed and enraged --

"Darling... you live in *this* city. The vast majority of your neighbors feel *precisely* the same."

"I'm -- not them. I'm not supposed to *be* them."

"You're not supposed to be anyone but yourself, Tim," and Lex strokes Tim's abdomen, tugging at the -- relatively -- thick, straight black hair.

Tim shivers. "There is -- there's such a thing as striving to live as a better person."

"Than the person you actually are...? Of course. But that sort of thing works *better* when you acknowledge your limitations -- however emotional and shameful. Or 'shameful' as the case may be. I don't need you to put a bullet in *anyone's* brain, darling --"

"You just need me to admit that I want to?"

"And to, hopefully, cope with the fact that you do rather than simply berating yourself for it."

"Guilt is *useful* --"

"Only until you've allowed it to improve your behavior. After that, it's dross. And rather egregiously dull."

Tim snorts. "Can't have that."

"Never. Are you ready to come screaming again?"

A *sharp* breath -- "You're tempting me to have a *bad* time."

Lex grins. "I won't say contrariness has *no* place in the bedroom -- that would be asinine -- but..."

Tim hums. "Only when it increases the pleasurable screaming, yes. Lex... what do you want to do to me? Right now, I mean."

Lex looks Tim over, noting the rising cock, the tightening sac --

Lex reaches between Tim's legs and *cups* --

"*Fuck* --"

"I think... that I'd like to know how big your toys are."

Tim smiles *happily* -- "Big. Some of them, anyway."

"My size...?"

Tim gives Lex's cock a critical look... "I have one larger than you."

Bruce-sized...? "How often do you use that one?"

"A few times a month. Not much."

Lex nods. "I'll rim you another time --"

"Ah -- all right. I'd prefer to shower first anyway."

"I'm shocked," Lex says, and grins. And squeezes --

Tim groans. "Lex..."

Lex lets go. "Orders...?"

"No. I can't -- no."

Hmm. "Did you want to be whipped *without* having me in a dominant role...?"

"Ohn -- don't tease me."

Lex licks his lips. "Noted. We'll examine that thought later. Please, get on the bed."

Tim shivers and growls -- "What position?"

"The most comfortable one for you. Emotionally, I mean."

A blush -- and Tim nods and goes, crawling onto the bed and then settling himself on his hands and knees. The perfection of his body --

No, he can say it. "You're stunning, darling. Every aspect of your musculature..." Lex sighs and takes the lubricant out of a fold of sheet, slicking his fingers. "You worked for every muscle, didn't you."

"Ah... I didn't have to work very hard for my abs. Everything else... was a struggle. Is a struggle."

"I know precisely how that works -- "

"You have... an intensely beautiful body, Lex."

"Thank you. I plan to keep it until I'm absolutely falling apart... at which point I'll have hopefully learned how to transplant personality engrams into cloned bodies."

Tim *grunts*.

Lex blinks. "That's a turn-on?"

"Ah... apparently? It's possible that I just like clones."

Lex laughs. "*Noted*, darling. Help me spread you...?"

"God. God, I --" Tim swallows and shakes his head.

"No...?"

"No! I mean -- not no. It's just... already," and Tim reaches back with his right hand to hold himself spread --

Lex spreads him with his left -- "You are... of course you're beautiful here, as well. Don't tell anyone, darling, but I *might* be in love with you."

Tim snorts -- and grunts when Lex starts stroking around and around his hole.

"Yes...?"

"Fuck. Ah... fuck."

"When did you start fucking yourself?"

"As soon as -- I was eleven. I saw -- I had seen pornography. Really very good pornography."

Now what secret was *that*...? One day he'll know every last one --

And Tim -- who will love him then -- will come up with even more.

Lex smiles and *presses* on Tim's hole --

Tim groans and stiffens, groans again and *wriggles* -- "Please."

"Already?"

"Ah -- yes. Please. Please."

"Are you trying to keep yourself from shoving back onto my fingers?"

"Yes. Lex --"

Lex pushes in with *one* --

And Tim growls and *immediately* starts riding Lex's finger, panting and *clenching* --

"Darling --"

"Can't. Can't -- I need more."

Lex *crooks* his finger --

"*Hah* -- oh, Lex, don't --  I mean. Not yet."

"And if I'd like to see you come *before* I slip in...?"

"*Tease*."

"And if I give you my whole hand...? Would *that* be a tease?"

*Clench* --

And a growl --

And Tim is clutching his own ass hard enough that his knuckles are white.

"I suppose I *could* take that --"

"*Fuck* me!"

"Did you say that to Bruce?"

"Yes, fuck, *yes*, multiple *times* --"

"Did you want him to throw you down --"

"*Please* --"

"Of course," Lex says, and gives Tim two fingers --

Tim growls again and starts to *shake* -- "I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't. This shouldn't --"

"Think about something else, darling. Like how much you want my cock --"

"*Nnh* -- Lex. Lex. I'm going to put my hand down."

"All right --"

"I'm going to --" Tim shakes his head and drops down onto his *elbows* -- and immediately *shouts*.

"Oh, darling --"

"Please fuck me, Lex. Please. Please --"

Lex grips Tim's hip with his dry hand and starts a slow, *hard* fuck with his fingers --

"*Ahn* -- *ahn* --"

"You should specify what sort of motion --"

"Don't *stop*!"

And Lex feels himself flushing. Feels --

He's not even hitting Tim's *prostate* --

This --

How the hell had Tim gone *without* sitting on someone's cock?

"*Lex*!"

"Tim. Tell me more of your fantasies. Your -- tell me *something*."

"Lex -- I mean. *Please*. I mean --" Tim *tosses* his head and starts to grind his hips --

Stops and *rocks* his hips --

Lex matches his rhythm --

"*Fuck* me, please fuck me, please -- oh, God, this is so --"

"Intense? Wonderful?"

Tim gasps a *breathless* laugh. "Fucked *up*."

"Well, there's that, but *really* darling -- we both need *exactly* this," and Lex starts thrusting faster --

Tim *yowls* -- "Oh, *fuck* --"

"*Tim* --"

"I want him to bend me over. I want him to make me ride him. I want him to spank me and bruise me and fucking -- anywhere. Almost anywhere. Not my *bed*."

Lex pants -- breathes. *Focuses* -- "Can you take it?"

"*Yes* -- no. I want to, I *want* to --"

"The way you want this?" And Lex crooks his fingers again --

Tim *screams* --

Beats at the bed --

"*Lex*!"

"Are you going to fight me, Tim?"

"No, God, no -- maybe," Tim says, and they laugh together --

They *groan* together when Tim clenches again -- "I love you --"

"Please, Lex, please don't let me *hurt* you --"

"I *won't*. You're my *favorite* little liar, and I will *never* forget that --"

"I'll never forget *you* --" And Tim gasps again and shakes his head --

Lex would bet a *gentle* date with Mercy that he's dark from *blushing* as much as flushing -- "Beautiful --"

"Your -- *Lex* -- *Lex* --"

Oh, yes, he *is* rocking up against that prostate on every thrust --

That will never *do* --

"Did he use lube?"

"*No*."

"Did you want him to?"

"No -- please -- I wanted the *burn*, Lex -- please don't *stop* --"

"I won't, darling -- not until it's time to give you my cock. But please -- mm. Please feel free to keep begging --"

"It's good, it's -- it's good to be *needy* --"

"I agree --"

"I *deserve* -- oh, fuck, I don't know what I'm *saying*."

Lex feels himself -- that was more of a *spasm* than a twitch -- "You're saying *intensely* arousing things. Here," and Lex starts thrusting harder --

*Slightly* faster --

"Lex, *please*."

"Please what, darling?"

"Make it -- make it *stop* --"

"I can't do that, darling. I can't -- " Lex shivers and *focuses*. "You have to take this."

"I *don't* --"

"You do. You have to prove that you can. You have to prove that you can -- push *through*."

"Fuck -- it's so *much* --"

"Do you want more?"

"*Lex* --"

"Answer me, please."

Tim groans -- and grinds his face against the bed. Fuck --

Fuck, does he ever have a *type* -- and now isn't the time to laugh. It isn't --

"Darling, tell me --"

"*Please*."

"More?"

Tim whimpers -- and urges Lex faster and harder --

Grunts and *claws* at the bed --

"You should know, darling -- I am at *least* as hard as I've been -- ever."

"I just. I shouldn't want anything this *much* --"

"No, darling, you should want *good* things this much -- and even more."

"Good. Good. Lex, I need -- *fuck* --" And Tim shudders and spreads his legs wider --

Grinds his face *more* --

"I need. You. Please. Please..." Tim *sobs* --

*Lex* grunts -- "Is it time?"

"You -- you tell *me* --"

"How much should it *hurt* --"

"*Hnh* -- close. I'm -- please don't."

"Please don't *what*, Tim?"

"*Listen*, please don't *listen* --"

"I can't *do* that, darling --"

Tim -- wails. Loud and high and *young*, and he does it again when he clenches, and again --

All right, an easier question. "Do you want to come before or *during* the fuck?"

"*Lex* -- *during* --"

"Perfect, darling," and Lex pulls his fingers out and rolls on a condom at *speed*  --

Groans for his own fucking hand --

For the sensation he'll *miss* -- but he'll teach Tim good habits, he'll give Tim everything, he'll -- "*Spread*." Oh, that shouldn't have been an *order* --

But Tim still reaches back to do it -- no.

"Wait," Lex says --

"*Lex* --"

"It's all right," and Lex moves around in front of Tim --

Shivers for the desperate *hunger* in his eyes -- no, no waiting. He's pulls Tim's body against his own, making Tim straddle his thighs --

"Oh -- oh, God, I won't be able to --"

"Hide? Not for a moment. You'll give me everything --"

Tim sobs again and buries his face against Lex's *throat* -- and he's still holding himself spread. Still --

"You're *perfect*," Lex says, and guides himself --

Tim screams for the *first* moment of breach --

Screams again as Lex pushes *slowly* -- "Darling, you're --" Lex groans and swallows --

"Lex -- Lex -- *please* --" And Tim growls and *slams* himself down --

"*Tim* --"

A panted breath --

A *shocked* look --

Tim opens his mouth and closes it again, opens and closes it, opens -- "Lex..."

Focus. He can focus --

He can *be* more than his *desperately* thrilled cock --

This is -- isn't *unfamiliar* -- "Tim..."

Tim whimpers and stares up at him, eyes wide and full and --

"So young..."

Tim pants and *clenches* around him --

And it was *absolutely* his turn to *growl*. "Darling -- put your hands on my shoulders?"

More panting --

More *staring* --

"Is it too much? Should I --"

And *that* growl makes Lex's balls feel distinctly endangered --

"You're perfect," Lex says, and leans in to kiss Tim softly, *softly* --

Tim *shakes* --

Whimpers --

And *clutches* Lex's shoulders, pressing closer, *urging* --

"My tongue in your mouth, darling...?"

"Please..." And he shudders again --

Clenches hard enough to make them *both* shout --

"*Please* --"

Lex kisses Tim the right way, the *best* way --

He cups Tim's face and tilts Tim's head back and to the side --

He sucks Tim's lips and bites, *teases* --

Until Tim growls *again* --

And then it's absolutely time to fuck Tim's pretty little mouth, fuck his pretty little *body* --

Grab his ass and squeeze until Tim shouts into Lex's mouth --

*Rock* his hips just once --

"*Lex*!"

Lex smiles into the kiss and tilts Tim's head back further, licks and *bites* Tim's throat --

"*Fuck* me --"

"Of course," Lex says, and moves his hands to Tim's hips, holding him just so -- and rocking in and in --

The shocked look comes back almost instantly, so --

"Were you -- expecting something else, darling?"

"So -- warm. And I." Tim shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut --

"Let me *see* you --"

"Don't -- don't fucking *order* --" And then Tim cries out and starts to *ride* --

"*Tim* --"

"Oh -- fuck, Lex --"

"It's all right, it's --" Lex swallows and matches Tim's rhythm --

Tim growls and *screams* --

*Grips* Lex's shoulders -- "*Yes*, Tim --"

"Lex. Lex -- it's too *good* --"

"I *disagree*, darling --"

"I can't --" Tim shakes his head and closes his eyes again -- but this time he lets his head fall back --

Starts *rolling* his hips against Lex -- "*This* rhythm, darling?"

Tim shakes his head and cries out --

Shudders to a *stop* --

"*Tim* --"

"Please. Please. I can't do this, I can't --"

"Do you need me to *stop* --"

"*Don't* -- fuck, Lex, it's just --" And Tim shakes his head again and starts *bouncing* on Lex's cock, panting out sharp, brief cries --

And Lex knows that's not the rhythm he wants, that -- "Is that --"

Tim clenches --

Lex *groans* -- no, focus, he has to -- "Is that the rhythm you can *manage*."

Tim snaps his head forward and looks at him with wonder, *gratitude* --

They cry out together when Lex's cock *flexes* -- "Let me, Tim. Let me --"

"Yes. Yes, yes -- *please*!"

Lex grips Tim's shoulders from the back and uses *all* of his strength to hold Tim *still* --

"Oh, *fuck*, Lex --"

"Bruce. Bruce could do this --"

"*You* -- *please* --"

"No. No promises I can't *keep*, darling," and Lex gives Tim the *rolling* rhythm, the rock and *slide* --

Tim cries out *precisely* like a bird --

And Lex notices Tim's jewelry for the first -- no, he'd noticed it before. *Wondered* at it, because it's neither particularly fabulous *nor* conservative. It falls right in the middle, and while some of that is the fact that Tim *must* wear studs for now --

The necklace --

The *O* necklace --

"Oh -- you glorious *bitch* --"

"*Lex*!"

"Oh, yes, darling, be *loud*." Let your whole *family* hear this --

"Yes -- yes, *please* --"

"*Take* it --"

"Fuck me, fuck me, *fuck* me --"

And it's necessary to spread Tim's legs further apart with his own --

To *pull* Tim into his thrusts --

To stare into Tim's *dazed* blue-grey eyes --

"I *love* you, Tim --"

Tim cries out -- and can't seem to close his mouth. His --

Cry after *cry*, and Tim periodically bites his *lip* -- but only for seconds at a time before crying out more, and *more* --

Shuddering *constantly* --

"Are you going to -- *nnh* --  to come for me...?"

A *frantic* nod --

And Lex can't help but smile for it, *grin* for it -- "Are you going to come when I *tell* you to...?"

"Please -- *Lex* --"

The way Tim *sounds* --

The way he *looks*, so hungry and *stunned* with lust, with pleasure --

He's made *dozens* of people look like that over the years, but this --

This is Mercy, and the surprised joy in her eyes the first time Lex had dominated her *correctly* -- just as if she *hadn't* given him all the cues and clues he'd needed.

This is Bruce, and the way he'd made even dawning ecstasy look serious, heavy, *dark* --

This is the *first* time he'd made Hope blink, made her eyes blaze with an emotion neither of them could *name* --

"Darling -- beautiful darling --"

"*Nnh* - *hnh* -- " And Tim's hands are brutal on Lex's shoulders --

Painfully *rough* on Lex's face, Lex's *mouth* --

Lex *bites* Tim's fingers --

Tim gives him another growling scream and even more shock, even more *desperation* --

He's *close*.

"*Brace* yourself, darling," and Lex drops them --

"*Lex* --!"

--  and wraps an arm around the back of Tim's left knee --

"*Fuck* --"

-- and pushes it back to Tim's *chest* before giving himself permission to grunt for every thrust, to growl and *drive* into Tim like something --

Something crude and *brutal* --

No, not that, never --

Not while Tim is tossing his head --

*Yowling* again --

Yes, Lex can be *reasonably* gentle, he can use --

Use the *copious* amounts of lubricant to ease the way --

Stare down into Tim and watch his *hungry* pleasure rising, higher and higher for the motion, the friction, the *fuck* --

Almost there --

Closer when Tim squeezes his eyes shut and begins to toss his head, and Lex waits, and wants --

*Fucks*, and it would be so easy to give in to this, so --

Could it be what Tim wants -- no, that's not a question. Tim wants to be used *badly*. He's going to have to settle for *brilliantly*:

A shift in angle enough to *drag* against Tim's prostate --

Tim *shouts* --

"Open your *eyes*, darling."

"*Nuh* -- *Lex* --"

"*Come*."

And there are those eyes, so wide and *bright* --

And Tim isn't shuddering so much as he's *quaking* --

"*Lex* --!"

"I *need* it, darling --"

And Tim *wails* --

*Beats* at Lex's shoulders --

And comes all over Lex's abdomen and chest --

Hits Lex's *chin* --

"Oh, *darling*. My turn," and Lex bends Tim's *other* leg back --

Tim screams and claws at Lex's *throat* --

"Be *ready* --"

"Yes -- *yes* --"

And Tim's clench is rough enough, *hard* enough that Lex growls and thrusts too hard --

"*Lex*!"

Or just hard enough. Depending --

No, he can be better than that -- and damned well leave them both the ability to do this again *soon*. A compromise with himself: releasing Tim's legs and peeling his arms from around Lex's neck --

"*Please* --"

"*Yes*," and Lex pins Tim's lean arms down --

Grips his slim, strong little wrists --

And watches awareness come back into Tim's eyes, awareness and more of that *shocked* pleasure --

"You -- do you *get* it yet, darling?"

"Lex..."

"Do you *feel* me -- *hnh* -- *Tim* --"

"I think -- I think you feel *me* --"

"All *around* me --"

"Lex. Lex -- "

"All -- fucking through me -- I *need* you --"

"We can -- we *can* --"

"*Yes*, Tim -- *fuck* --"

And those are Tim's legs locked around his *chest* --

Tim's smile so bright and --

*Deadly* --

Lex's sac is *frightened*, tightening and --

"Lex. *Come*."

"*Tim* --"

"Let -- nn. Let me feel it --"

"Please --"

"Feel *you* --"

"*Fuck*, Tim --"

"Fuck *me*, Lex. Fuck -- I'll be your darling --"

Lex hears himself groaning, but the world is too dark, too -- too *hot* --

"*Look* at me!"

His eyes were *closed*? Lex pants and stares --

And watches Tim swipe come off Lex's chin and feed it to himself, drip it into his mouth, lick it off his fucking --

*Fingers* --

When had Lex let *go*?

And that sound was the sort of thing a lesser man would be embarrassed by, but Lex can be -- strong --

"*Now*, Lex!"

Lex can grip at the duvet and *strain* --

And yell with more than a little *fear* when Tim clenches and he feels himself fucking harder, *harder* --

Even Tim's *wince* is --

And this yell is loud, desperate, and the absolute last thing Lex is aware of before his cock shoves him off a cliff and into the purest --

Best --

*Mine*, he thinks, and if that was out loud he could be forgiven -- or at least understood. Pleasure like this --

*Power* like this --

"Lex..."

He should've *known* Tim could purr --

It's only -- only *sensible* --

Because the power is his. Lex falls back into himself *slowly*, opening his eyes to find Tim staring at him with covetous wonder.

A drop of sweat falls from Lex's cheek onto Tim's.

Lex pants and stares -- and stares at Tim until that *sharp* smile comes back.

"How are you doing, Lex...?"

"My mind is positively marinating in endorphins. My cock thinks your ass would make a lovely vacation home --"

Tim snorts --

"No...? All right, then. My *balls* wish you'd just hurry up and start torturing them. The anticipation is killing them."

"You don't think I was *already* torturing them...?"

"I *think*... that I've loved having you here tonight, darling. Stay for a little while longer...?"

"I... a little while?"

Lex smiles, knowing precisely how *shamelessly* greedy he looks. "Or much, much longer than that."

Tim laughs. "I do have to get home, Lex."

"Eventually...?"

Tim *hums* -- and reaches up to stroke the skin under Lex's eyes.

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm ruining your sleep schedule."

Obliterating it, truly, but -- "Ask yourself if I've given *any* sign of caring about that."

"Lex. You have a *company* to run."

"And I can, at this point, do that from absolutely anywhere with wifi and basic -- *basic* -- office equipment."

"*Should* you...?"

Well... "Not even remotely. I'm going to have to go back to Metropolis for at least a little while... soon."

"Then --"

"Which is all the more reason for us to enjoy ourselves *right* now," and Lex raises his eyebrows.

Tim looks at him *sourly* --

Lex's cock twitches --

Tim grunts -- and then growls.

"Oh -- darling."

"Ah." Tim blushes. "Ignore that?"

"*Highly* doubtful --"

"Lex, I can't *do* this again."

The moment's *needy* fear is itself --

"I -- I meant --"

"Right now, yes, I *do* know that, darling," Lex says, and lowers himself down enough that he can kiss Tim's temple --

"Oh. That feels -- ah."

"Do you want more of my weight?"

"I should. Lex..."

"Yes or no," and Lex smiles. "It's yours for the asking."

"I shouldn't *be* -- asking."

"All right. It's yours for the *taking* -- *nnh* --" Because *that* is what it feels like when an honestly *small* boy is strong enough to *move* him. Lex slips out a little --

Tim *whimpers* -- and clutches him. And moves *under* him, struggling against Lex's weight --

Lex presses down *harder* as an experiment --

"*Fuck* -- ah." And then Tim laughs -- and licks the side of Lex's throat.

"Yes, darling?"

"Nothing... in particular."

"Other than the fact that you like this."

"Yes, we've *established* that, Lex," Tim says, and the irritation is downright *acerbic*.

Lex laughs quietly and kisses Tim's temple again. "Forgive me, darling, I'm *slow* --"

"You are *not* --"

"-- when I've just ejaculated a significant portion of my intellect."

"Because -- we just had sex."

"And made love while we were at it."

Tim shivers. "And I'm still *here*."

"Will your motorcycle turn into some sort of gourd?"

Tim snorts. "Lex."

"I had to check, darling. Tonight *has* been somewhat magical."

"You're tempting me towards violence."

"You *have* been spending time with a low sort of crowd..."

Tim snorts *again* -- and there's no way to tell if that *abortive* jab would've been a nerve strike...

Except for how there are very, very few things Lex has been *more* sure of. He smiles and licks the sweat from Tim's hairline --

Tim gasps --

"Darling. Shall we go for three...?"

"Ah. Ah..."

"Or shall I just do this," Lex says, and *grinds* --

"*Fuck* --"

"I'd *have* to use my fingers to do that properly at this point, but --"

"N-no. Don't."

Lex pulls back enough to meet Tim's eyes. "Are you sure...?"

Tim blushes again. "No? I'm definitely sure that I'm not sure, and thus -- ah. Et cetera."

"Et cetera, it is. Do you need me to pull out?"

The blush gets *deeper*...

"I have no problem whatsoever with staying *right* here," Lex says, and strokes Tim's mouth with his thumb. "I haven't kissed you enough."

"Yes, well, you had other things to do," Tim says, regaining the *snap* instantly...

"So I did. Just the same. You have a beautiful mouth."

"So do you."

Lex blinks --

"Hn. You also... you're exceedingly attractive. Your face, your body, your *hands*... and you know exactly how to fuck a traumatized teenager."

"Practice makes perfect...?"

Tim snorts *again* --

And Lex smiles. "All right, not that. You don't need to compliment me --"

"I -- believe I do," Tim says, and raises an eyebrow.

"Is my self-esteem in question?"

"No. But..." Tim shakes his head. "I think... you need to know how I feel about you."

"You were screaming my name, darling --"

"Anyone can do that. Right...?"

Not with that kind of feeling -- but. Lex takes a deep breath. "Darling. Take your *time*." Because a declaration without your *secrets*... would not mean enough.

Tim gives him a suspicious look...

And Lex laughs. "What I didn't say...?"

"*Yes*."

"It will mean more later. When you *haven't* just been fucked blind."

Sour, *sour* look --

Lex *grins* --

Tim narrows his eyes --

"What --" Do you look like when you're about to hurt some criminal *badly* -- no. Lex shakes his head --

And Tim frowns at him. "What is it, Lex?"

Lex kisses Tim's temple. "More curiosity about you, darling. I was about to ask what you look like when you were thinking about making love with your girlfriend, but..."

"I -- well. She's told me I look extremely creepy. I... haven't told her what I'm thinking about at times like those."

Now *that* is a conversational detour he wasn't expecting. Lex nuzzles Tim's hairline a little.

"Lex..."

"Are you sure she can't tell...?"

"Ah -- yes. Certain conversations... she doesn't know."

"All right," and Lex shifts enough to meet Tim's eyes again. "*Will* you tell her?"

"I -- yes. I think I will. I don't know when, but..." Tim smiles ruefully. "Tonight has been... illuminating."

Lex smiles. "You're welcome."

Tim flips him off.

"Did you want to...? Who *is* that male of the species you wanted to bend over?"

"You would -- ah." Tim frowns at him. "There's a boy in my vocational training program who comes to mind -- Lex."

"The answer is -- we can give it a try. I'm braver than I used to be --"

"I wouldn't want to do anything that you had to *psych yourself up for* --"

"Even though you had to psych yourself up for this...?"

Tim's expression is *pinched* --

Lex shifts enough to kiss his nose, slipping out a little more --

Tim hisses and drags his inner thighs over Lex's waist and hips --

"Oh... darling," and it's absolutely necessary to shift even more, to *lose* Tim's ass in order to be able to have his mouth --

His beautiful, lying *mouth* --

Tim moans and kisses him back over and over again --

Lex presses harder and makes it a longer kiss, a *deeper* kiss --

He can taste Tim's *come*, and he wants more, a *lot* *fucking* *more* --

Another moan --

A nuzzle -

The sharpness of *teeth* --

And Tim turns out of the kiss and pants --

"Tim --"

"*Wait*. I -- wait," Tim says, turning back and smiling ruefully. "I need... to think about something."

About, perhaps, how honest to be with him. Lex inclines his head. "You can tell me anything, darling. I... there's nothing new under the sun."

A *bleak* look --

"I promise it's all right."

Tim squeezes his eyes shut --

And Lex realizes that he's honestly conflicted, honestly -- "A part of you wants to tell me everything," Lex says, and can't do anything about the wonder in his voice, the *need* --

Tim stares at him with *hurt* in his eyes --

And Lex smiles. "It's all right --"

"It -- really isn't. I. You've made the idea of being honest a lot more attractive than it can be, and I --" Tim shakes his head and cups Lex's face. "Kiss me again?"

"And, perhaps, shut you up?"

"It seems like it would be a pleasant way to do it. For both of us."

"Would any part of you enjoy being interrogated?"

"By you? Ah -- probably, yes. But not right now."

"Perhaps if our dates get dull," Lex says, and leans in to kiss Tim, to make love to his mouth --

Tim moans and gives it back, gives -- absolutely all of it, because those hard little hands are moving on Lex's face --

Moving *cautiously* to Lex's scalp --

"It's all right, darling. Just don't bruise or welt me there."

"I wouldn't -- ah. But your shoulders and forearms know -- differently. Sorry --"

"No," and Lex kisses Tim again, coaxes his tongue into his mouth and sucks --

Tim hums and traces Lex's *teeth* with the tip of his tongue --

And Lex can oblige. He pulls back slowly and tilts Tim's head back, licking at his jaw before biting there --

Tim gasps --

And Lex bites a path along Tim's jaw before moving to his throat, slipping out the rest of the way --

Tim *shudders* --

And Tim moans and cups the back of Lex's head, pulling Lex in *gently* --

"I'm not bruised, darling..."

"I know. I know. I just --"

Lex bites over Tim's pulse --

Tim growls and *arches* --

Lex pulls back --

"*Fuck* --"

"Am I allowed to mark you...?"

"Ah. Ah. There really ought to be a way to get that kind of pressure and pain *without* marks."

"I agree wholeheartedly. Unfortunately..." And Lex raises his eyebrows.

"I -- like it when you don't color them."

Oh -- "So did Bruce. I do need to color them at times, however."

"No, I -- I know that," and Tim moves his hands back to Lex's shoulders and pushes.

"Are you sure?"

"Reasonably so -- don't argue with me."

Lex hums and rolls to the side --

And Tim immediately kneels up and deals with the condom -- neatly and deftly. Hm.

"Tim --"

"I almost always use condoms on my toys. You never know... anyway," and Tim straddles Lex's waist.

"Is that position better for you?"

"It's easier to escape, so... yes," Tim says, and smiles wryly. "Lex... that was incredible."

"Let's do it often."

Tim's expression turns thoughtful --and then he makes a small sound and shivers.

"Yes?"

"Ah -- just clenching experimentally. Often may not be doable. *Sometimes* is definitely doable, though."

Lex cups Tim's lean thighs and strokes. "Practice --"

"Makes perfect, yes, I know, but... I'd rather keep the pain."

"I'd rather keep *you* --"

"So you've mentioned."

Tim, Tim, Tim -- "Am I boring you...?"

"I wouldn't say that," and Tim strokes Lex's smile lines. "I'm trying to see the man I thought you were a few days ago."

"Why bother? That man is dead and buried."

Tim's expression *quirks* -- "Sometimes dead things come *back*."

"The *proper* response to that sort of thing is to kill them *better*."

A snort -- "You don't regret your father's murder, at all."

"No."

"Even though you lost *Bruce*."

"A case could be made that I would've lost him *anyway*... or are you blaming me for his love affair with the bottle?"

A flash of *something* behind those eyes --

The *truth*? But -- he doesn't want to be interrogated tonight. "Darling, didn't they *have* a health class in one of the seventeen high schools you've attended?"

"Ah -- several. I know it's not your fault," Tim says, and frowns, eyes going distant --

Not that, either. "Of course, a case could be made that Bruce was bound to lose it with both me *and* Harvey completely failing to stay people he could reasonably confide in."

"Are you blaming *yourself*?"

Only for helping to make the man who helped make *you*, so -- "Not truly, darling. But... sometimes Lionel laughs in my mind, and there's nothing I can do about that. He tended to be wonderfully silent when I allowed myself to be close *enough* to Bruce."

Tim swallows and strokes Lex's face -- "I'm sorry."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

Tim smiles ruefully. "I don't, in fact, believe in anything like a *universal* sanctity of life. I never have. And -- there's no doubt in my mind that Lionel Luthor would've been on my list of people who would improve the world by their absence."

"Was I...?"

The smile isn't rueful, at all, anymore.

"Oh, darling. Yes, that *is* an answer. Well, fear not," Lex says, and folds his hands behind his head.

"Yes, Lex?"

"I have *no* intention of giving you *that* sort of moral dilemma."

Tim laughs. "I -- Lex. Other people wouldn't respond quite so well to that."

"*Other* people fail to look at the bigger picture. I know you, darling -- better by the moment. You wouldn't have *let* me fuck you if you *still* wanted me dead."

"'Not wanting you dead' is enough for you?"

Lex shows his teeth. "Not even remotely. But -- I can be patient." And I know you're starting to feel downright *tender* --

"And what was *that*?"

Lex hums and smiles more broadly.

Tim narrows his eyes and backs *away* --

"Not that --"

"*Talk*."

"Darling --"

"*Lex*."

"You care about me," Lex says, and lets his expression turn softer. "We both know it, at this point -- and I see no problem with allowing it to... hmm... *buoy* me."

Tim closes his eyes, tilting his head back --

"And I'd also *desperately* like to see you riding me while we were in this position."

Tim -- sighs.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"It's not enough," Tim says, and looks at Lex ruefully again. "It's not -- what I feel will never be enough."

"Tim --"

"Even if it grows. Some things go deeper than that," Tim says, and leans in to kiss Lex firmly before moving off the bed entirely.

Lex sits up --

And Tim holds up a hand. "I'm not -- I'm not saying goodbye."

Lex -- deals with the pound of his heart. "Then what are you saying?"

"Goodnight," Tim says, and pulls his gaff back on with a contented sigh. "I just --" Tim shakes his head. "We can see more of each other, Lex, but --"

"I shouldn't get my hopes up...?"

"I'm not -- I'm not for anyone, I don't think. There are choices I've made -- never mind," Tim says, and paces to the window -- but only for a moment before he comes back to the bed and strokes Lex's thigh.

"We can talk about those choices, darling."

"No, we can't. They're mine -- and no one else's," and Tim splays his fingers on Lex's abdomen. "I won't ever ask you to understand."

You will if I play my *cards* right -- and that means acceptance. For now. Lex nods and takes Tim's hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the back --

"Lex --"

And then licking a stripe up the center of Tim's palm --

"*Fuck* --"

And then releasing Tim's hand and smiling. "Goodnight, darling. Which of us is calling the other...?"

The *hot* look in Tim's eyes is chock full of violence *and* sex --

Lex folds back the duvet and raises an eyebrow --

And Tim snorts and backs away. "I'll call *you*, I believe. But please don't hesitate to go back to Metropolis when you need to."

"I never would, darling." Not without you in the *hold* --

No, a few meta-class restraints would work perfectly well *and* allow Lex to keep him in the passenger compartment.

Of course, Tim simply choosing -- "Visit me."

Tim studies him for a long moment.

"Yes?"

"What was that?"

"Oh, just considering whether or not I want to kidnap you."

Tim -- snorts. "Lex."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

Tim sighs. "You don't want to kidnap me."

"Are you sure?"

Tim walks backwards toward the door. "Yes, Lex, I'm *sure*."

"Why."

"Because you wouldn't be able to count my presence in Metropolis as a *total* victory -- and that still means a great deal to you."

Lex narrows his eyes --

And Tim laughs, soft and bright at once. "Good night and good morning, Lex. Sleep well -- and thank you."

Well, then. "You're welcome, darling. *Always*."

Tim pauses in the doorway --

Bites his lip --

And then nods and goes.

It's tempting to follow Tim to the living room -- he still has to *dress* -- but...

He's made *several* of the points he wanted to make. And Tim does, in fact, want to share his secrets...

The question, now, is how to make him want it *enough*.

*

Stephanie is glaring at the back of his head. This --

This is something Bruce deserves, as he has not managed to leave the console to provide her with the training she needs --

There's only so much she can do on her own, even with the acrobatics routines Dick has given her to learn --

He cannot simply brood.

Bruce stands --

"Freaking *finally*, Spooky! Let's *go*."

Her hair is tied back in her usual ponytail, she's wearing one of the brassieres Bruce had crafted for her under her simple aubergine t-shirt --

("The word is *eggplant*. *Learn* it.")

Bruce smiles helplessly. "I'm sorry --"

"Does that mean you're gonna talk about it?"

("You know, Bruce, you don't *have* to listen to the whole thing."

"I. I shouldn't."

"No, you shouldn't... but.")

And Barbara had sighed and reached out to touch her camera lightly --

("Barbara --"

"You should know where he's coming from, Bruce. And... he knew perfectly well when he put that jewelry on that I would make the offer to you."

"Yes. He is... always measured. Always sure."

"Not that -- I. Listen. And try not to stab yourself -- I'm going to need you tonight."

"As you say.")

And Bruce had --

Bruce catches Stephanie's punch reflexively. "I'm sorry --"

"What the hell *happened* to you? Did Tim leaving you with blue balls fuck you up *that* much?"

Bruce blinks -- "You've... spoken to Tim since last night?"

"Uh. *Yeah*."

"And... he's told you --"

"He tells me *everything*."

"Including --"

"Including that he *failed* to leave *Luthor* with blue balls -- " Stephanie narrows her eyes at him and twists her fist free. "Which of you needs to be punched?"

"I vote both," Barbara says, and her mask takes over all of the monitors --

"Gah! Why are you so creepy?"

"Hn. Because it *suits* me, Stephanie. You have to be nicer to Bruce today, though."

"I do *not*!"

"Barbara --"

"He's *wounded*," and the laugh in Barbara's voice is low, sharp, *bladed* --

And Bruce winces.

And Stephanie jabs his abdomen -- not especially lightly. "*Spooky*!"

("Come *on*, B! Snap the fuck out of it!")

Bruce takes a deep breath and turns to face the nearest camera. "Barbara, the fact that I'm brooding --"

"Is a *problem*," Stephanie says, and Bruce dodges a kick --

A flurry --

A *better* flurry --

"Excuse me, Barbara," Bruce says, and attacks, using approximately three-quarters of his speed --

"Oh, *yeah*," and Stephanie flips back and back --

Up onto her feet and into a spin-kick --

Bruce chops down, but she's fast enough to come at him with another kick from the side --

Smart enough not to hesitate when it misses -- he misses the catch entirely --

"Come on, come *on* --"

He gives her the karate she's weakest at countering --

She growls and immediately slips into the muay Thai that --

That --

("Fucking *A*, B, this is *sweet*!")

She loves it just as much, showing her teeth as she does her level best to break Bruce's jaw --

Bruce's arms --

Bruce's *legs* --

"Faster, Stephanie --"

She growls and *leaps* --

"No," Bruce says, catching her leg and tossing her --

"*Fuck*," but she tucks and rolls perfectly, perfectly --

And strikes back for his fingers --

Dodges the catch and rises into a kick --

Another --

*Another* --

"Good, more --"

"I *know* I'm good," she says, pressing her attack and dodging every strike he throws --

He uses one of Wildcat's punches to urge her to step *back* --

She growls and steps *around* it --

"*Good* --"

"Shut up and *fight*!"

Bruce hums and does just that, slipping back into karate --

"God *damn* it --"

For Jason it was aikido, and capoeira. Stephanie is picking up the former just as well as everything else. The latter...

The latter, Dick has been making... distracting.

Bruce hums to himself and increases his speed, coming in to throw still more strikes --

And she starts blocking much too hard --

"Sorry, *fuck* --"

"Speed, Stephanie --"

"Shut *up*," she says, flipping back much too soon. Bruce catches her ankle --

She twists her other leg enough to kick him away, but loses her balance --

Bruce comes in for the stomp --

And Stephanie does her level best to break his ankle. She doesn't quite have the leverage for it --

She's growling... wonderfully.

Bruce hums again. "Stephanie."

"*Argh*. Stupid -- you just broke, like, eight of my ribs, didn't you."

"No more than three. And at least two of your fingers."

Stephanie blows out a breath and lets go of Bruce's foot, scooting back and getting to her feet. "Are you good yet?"

Bruce blinks. "I..."

Stephanie moves into a Krav Maga ready position --

"Cassandra has been teaching you well."

"Uh, huh. Answer the question."

"I -- will not allow my distraction to get in the way of your training." He gestures for karate --

She makes a face. "Spooookyyyy..."

"Stephanie --"

"Just teach me how to *counter* it!"

"You'll learn faster and better if you first learn how to --"

"'Integrate it into my overall knowledge base,'" she recites, rolling her eyes and shifting to a karate ready position.

Bruce nods and begins, and spends the next forty-five minutes teaching her strikes, since those are what she has the most difficulty with. She is...

She is focused and sure -- as focused and sure as she's been since she walked into the Cave in a homemade Robin suit -- but she gives him studying looks more than once.

She --

"Thank you," Bruce says, and guides her into more exact placement of her strikes --

"Uh. For *what*? Oh. The sparring," and she -- blushes. "I wanted it, too."

"You often do. Just the same --"

"Tim almost never spars with me," she... offers.

She almost never speaks of her relationship with Tim unless Bruce begins the conversation, and then she *ends* it. *Quickly*. Bruce pauses --

Stephanie *glares* --

Bruce goes back to adjusting her position -- "There, begin."

She nods and begins throwing strikes at her shadow opponents once more, and -- yes. Her mind and body are working well together.

"Faster."

"Uh, huh," and she picks up speed well, body moving in some of the same rhythms Cassandra uses.

"He... I believe he enjoys sparring less than some."

"Mostly because he doesn't want anyone to see him getting hard. Idiot."

"I've... tried to tell him that it was normal --"

"Yeah, I figured you pretty much -- pretty much had to," she says, gesturing *back* and opening up on her shadows with kicks, as well.

"Good --"

"Shut up."

"Hm. Stephanie --"

"I never *believe* you when you compliment me, Spooky," and there's a smile on her face, but it's hard, *sharp* --

Bruce winces. "I'm sorry --"

"Uh, huh. I know you are, because you'd be *different* if you weren't," she says, missing a mark --

She shakes her head and backtracks before he can say a word.

"You'd be -- you'd be all *grim* and *forbidding* and *Bat*. Right?"

("Take. The fucking. Cowl. *OFF*!")

"I... often use that persona when I have little of any emotional use to say."

She pauses --

She shakes her head again and begins throwing strikes once more, increasing her speed yet more --

"I -- would like to compliment you again."

"Just say 'compliment.'"

"All right --"

"And -- I'm gonna tase you if you pull that Bat shit with me when you *should* be being emotional."

Bruce blinks. "Stephanie --"

"I'm serious, Spooky," she says, and spins into a kick --

Another --

Slips back into muay Thai --

And back into karate.

"Stephanie, you have no *use* for --"

"You? That's *mostly* true, but -- *nn* -- damn it, I think I just strained a muscle," she says, and stops, beginning to stretch her left quadriceps immediately and well. "It -- fuck, fuck -- uh. What was I saying?"

"Do you need --"

"Yeah, fuck, rub it for me," she says, dropping down onto the mats and warming the muscle even before Bruce kneels.

"Let me --"

"Uh, huh. Damn, this is because I keep forgetting the potassium supplements, isn't it."

"It -- could be. Your diet --"

"Is *mine*," she says, and glares at him.

"Hm. You might consider adding bananas."

She makes a face.

"Chocolate-covered bananas...?"

"All right, Spooky. You can mess with my body. You can mess with my brain. You can mess with my *boyfriend's* body -- in all *kinds* of fucked-up ways, because he *lets* you, and that's so fucked-up, but, you know, *whatever* -- but you? *Can't* *fucking* *mess* with my *chocolate*. Got it?"

Bruce licks his lips and focuses on loosening the strain --

"*Got* it?"

"Carob...?"

"Do I *look* like a goddamned hippie?"

Bruce hums despite himself. "Jason... Jason said much the same thing."

She blinks at him.

Bruce smiles carefully --

"Uh. So. You're willing to talk about him."

"More... more than I used to be."

Stephanie bites her lip and nods. "Um. I'd rather have you bleeding emo all over the place than have you pretend there's nothing wrong until the rest of the family is ready to have breakdowns of their own."

"Noted."

"Did he... hate hippies?"

"Mostly just their food. Which he was exposed to because of a certain young woman whose company he enjoyed... a great deal."

She bites her lip again -- stops. "You don't get jealous."

"I do. I nearly lost Dick forever because of it. I... I've learned to battle my jealousy."

"So... part of you is 'battling' about Tim and Luthor?"

("Bruce -- fuck -- *darling* --"

"*Tell* me --"

"Don't stop, don't *stop* --"

"You must tell me how to do this *well*, Lex --"

"*Suck* me!")

And he had, up and down the shaft --

Over and over the head --

Lex had *laughed* --

("You *bastard* --"

"My parents were married, Lex --"

"You --"

"Before they were murdered.")

A laugh of *horror* --

And Bruce had taken Lex inside himself for the first time --

But not the last.

"Okay, you look like someone is *actually* stabbing you."

Bruce shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "He was my lover once, too."

"Uh."

Bruce goes back to massaging Stephanie's thigh --

"How gay do you have to *be* to go for that?"

"Perhaps a Kinsey four, in my case."

Stephanie snorts -- and smacks the side of his head.

"Jason quite enjoyed doing that."

"Tim. Tim says I'm a lot like him, going by the stories he's gotten."

"In some ways, yes. You're both unfailingly honest --"

"I can lie sometimes!"

"Not well," Bruce says, and smiles at her --

And she blushes.

Bruce nods. "You're both disinclined toward dealing with me when I'm at my most depressive."

"Because I'm *sane*!"

"Indeed. You're both... violent."

"So's the whole *family*!"

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Stephanie.

Stephanie *flushes* -- and balls one hand into a fist. And glares.

"Hmm. You're both closers -- despite my best efforts to the contrary."

"Hey, I did a lot of kicking today!"

"You were also trying to cheer me --"

"It *worked*!"

"Yes," Bruce says, and steps back. "Let me see you stretch, please."

She mutters bad-naturedly and does it, moving easily and well --

Flowing into several more stretches --

"Oh -- ow."

"Yes?"

"No, it's okay. It's just gonna annoy me a little now," she says, and bounces on her toes. "More karate?"

"Yes."

They work together for another hour. Stephanie's progress is slow, but not tortured. She is slowing herself down deliberately, *willing* herself to learn --

"You've learned greater patience."

"Cass. *All* Cass," she says, and moves into the third kata. "She's like, water on a freaking *rock*."

Jason would have -- no. "Jason would have vastly enjoyed having her work with him."

"Heh. And *on* him?"

Bruce hums and moves around and around Stephanie to watch her for mistakes, slips -- "I believe he would've been tempted to provoke her into 'tenderizing' him."

Stephanie snickers. "Oh, man. So he liked *mean* girls?"

"I believe he would've loved you very well."

"You saying I'm mean, Spooky?"

"The thought had not crossed my mind," Bruce says, and lets himself smile --

And Stephanie blushes and bites her lip -- and doesn't pause or hesitate as she moves into the seventh kata --

"Compliment."

"Heh. *Noted*."

Bruce hums. "Try dropping your right shoulder on that spin."

"Shit, I missed a mark?"

"No, but you *may* get more power --"

"Ooh," and Stephanie tries it immediately --

Adjusts and tries again --

Again -- "Tell me more about him? He was really hot, yeah?"

Bruce blinks. "He was beautiful. I was... struck by that right away."

She snorts. "*How* right away?"

"Before I noticed what he was doing --"

"Which was boosting your tires?"

"Yes --"

"Heh. Awesome. I mean -- not that I don't think thieves should get beat up -- they *should* -- but seriously, that's freaking hilarious."

Bruce hums. "It was my helpless laughter that alerted him to my presence. After that... he led me on an exceedingly challenging chase."

"But you caught him fair and square."

Bruce takes a breath and remembers the scent of fear and unwashed flesh -- and the photograph of a lovely, sad-eyed woman in a cheap but obviously well-loved frame. Jason had allowed him to replace it, but not to have the photograph digitally retouched.

("I just can't -- I mean. They might mess it *up*, B."

"Of course.")

"I... I don't know what I expected to find, Stephanie. Certainly not a dilapidated squat which had been made into as much of a home as possible. He had hung posters, collected torn and stained blankets for a mattress Alfred would've been tempted to set fire to... the room itself was clean, though, without even wax stains from the many candles he'd collected from here and there."

"So -- he'd made himself a home?"

"Yes. I -- faster, please."

"Uh, huh. What else?"

"He'd had to protect it. The area we were in... even Crime Alley proper has actual homes and people who live in them. This part of Gotham was all but deserted -- there had been a serial killer preying on children there, and many residents felt the area had become haunted --"

"Had it?"

Bruce smiles and looks down --

"*Had* it?"

"I... yes."

"But? You don't *believe* in ghosts or something?"

Bruce smiles more broadly. "I try not to."

Stephanie snorts. "Dumbass. So he cursed you out for chasing him. Then what?"

"He tried to punch me, kick me, stab me, and throw furniture at me."

A snicker -- "You were in love."

"Desperately so. I couldn't bring myself to interrupt his curses -- they had reached near ecstatic levels -- and so I simply picked him up and carried him back to the car so he could put the tires back on. And then I brought him here."

"While he was still cursing and trying to kick your ass."

"I restrained him. Eventually."

"You *freak*. You didn't even tell him *why* you were kidnapping him?"

"I intended to do so as soon as he stopped cursing."

Stephanie -- cackles. Enough to miss her mark --

But she simply repeats the motion until she has the rhythm again.

"Compliment."

"Yeah, yeah. When *did* you tell him?"

"We had made it back to the Cave, and he continued to curse and fight as I took him out of the car, as I carried him to the computer, as I tied him to a *chair*..." Bruce laughs softly. "Do you know... he didn't take the chances I gave him to escape. I remember thinking to myself that I would have to work hard to teach him not to miss such opportunities. He told me later that, at that point, he was simply too angry with me to stop trying to injure me --"

"*Ha*! Okay, awesome. Heh. So how did you get him to stop cursing?"

"I -- eventually -- gagged him. And then I took off my cowl and asked him to be Robin."

"And he looked at you like you were high."

"Oh, yes. So I began explaining to him what I would like to teach him, and give him. I showed him Dick's old uniform. By that point, Alfred had brought sandwiches and juice, so I carried his chair to the table and asked him if he would consent to eat. He glared at me for nearly a full minute... but then he nodded. When I removed his restraints, he pulled the gag out and proceeded to curse me for another *five* minutes."

"Wasn't he *repeating* himself at that point?"

Bruce laughs again and tugs Stephanie into a slightly better configuration for her strikes --

"Ooh, got it, but --"

"Jason had a near-infinite capacity for vulgarity. When I met him, he had the capacity to dress someone down --"

"Curse them *out* --"

"As you say. He could do it -- quite well -- in five languages. He only gained more facility as he aged. And that last strike --"

"Off-center?"

"Hmm. Compliment."

Stephanie snickers. "You are *way* too easy today, Spooky."

"You're improving by the moment --"

"Spooky."

"I mean to say... compliment."

"All right, then," Stephanie says, backtracking and going back to the lead-in for the strike in question -- "Oh, shit, I would've broken my fingers!"

"Almost certainly --"

"*Gah* -- okay, okay, I'm doing it -- here?"

"More to the left."

She throws the strike again -- perfect.

She throws it three more times perfectly and then slips back into the kata. "I'm not using that on the street, yet."

"The more you do --"

"I know, I know -- still."

"Sometimes we don't get the luxury of comfort --"

"So I should beat it out of myself as soon as possible, yes, Spooky, *sir*," she says, sighing and moving into the second kata. "I'll use it on a lightweight, okay?"

"As you say."

"When did he agree?"

Bruce smiles. "Three months later."

Stephanie chokes -- but doesn't slip. "So -- what? Was he going to run *away*?"

"It was something of a constant fear, long after we began training. Long after, even, he had begun enjoying himself in obvious ways. He told me later that he had truly decided that very first night, but that he'd needed to give himself time to discern 'what kind of crazy' I was."

Stephanie grins. "And did he? Figure it out, I mean."

"He knew me in a moment, Stephanie. My every weakness, my every darkness and shame... and, in very little time, the good of me, as well. He never feared me -- much like you."

"I -- okay, lemme focus," she says, and Bruce steps back once more and watches her work, watches her move, watches her *become*.

She will never be as flexible as Dick.

She will never be as powerful as Jason.

She will never be as ruthless as Tim.

And none of them could ever be so bright in *this* way, so clean and so focused on the *Mission* in this way --

This *sure* way --

She will never need him to be anyone other than the Batman, wherever her desires may lead her, and as for the Bat...

It has no place with her near. It can say *nothing*.

Did Tim wonder why Bruce hadn't included her in the gauntlet he'd given him?

Had he thought Bruce had simply *discounted* her influence?

Or had he simply known?

She finishes the kata and moves into a boxing stance, throwing punches and using footwork she hadn't had to be taught -- not by him.

"Would you tell me who taught you that?"

"Um... no? I mean -- is there a problem with it?"

"No. I was only curious."

"I --" Stephanie smiles ruefully and stands down. "It was my father. He used to go to a gym... anyway. He was no good at *doing* it, but he was pretty good at teaching. When he was in the mood for it. He taught some of his asshole buddies -- the *muscle* -- how. I paid attention."

Bruce nods and moves close enough to cup her strong, broad shoulder. "Thank you for sharing that."

"Aww, I -- um. You're welcome," she says, and cups Bruce's hand. "But -- you loved him. Like -- you were really, seriously, totally in love with him."

"Yes."

"Even though he was *twelve* when you kidnapped him."

Bruce lets his smile be as pained as it wishes to be. "Yes. It wasn't until the very end, when I held his broken body in my arms, that he seemed to be as young as he was."

Stephanie frowns. "Because he cursed so much? Or... what?"

"Many children curse, many fight when cornered or afraid..." Bruce shakes his head. "In his eyes, there was a life... a darkness and privation..." Bruce steps back and stares at his hands. "He had seen so much, and done even more. He had faced abuse and suffering head-on. He had been lonely and frightened... and all of it shone in his eyes. Every last moment. I was a child with him, and there were many times when I fantasized having him as my older brother."

"Uh."

Bruce smiles again. "Yes, I know. I assure you, it didn't seem the slightest bit ridiculous at the time. Not to me."

Stephanie nods thoughtfully and bites her lip -- stops. "Alfred said food was happening *upstairs* today."

"Then shall we?"

"Uh, huh. You know Cass is ready to eat, like, an entire cow if it means she can get out of her reading lessons."

Bruce laughs quietly. "I know she much prefers them with you."

"It's because I'm awesome," she says, and buffs her nails on her t-shirt. "Let's hit it. You're gonna teach me a new kick before it's time to go out."

"As you say."

He lets her lead him up the stairs at a brisk walk --

He watches her move, and thinks fleetingly of asking Clark to share some of his experiences with her --

She would not welcome such a thing from him. She --

Not yet?

He will control himself.

And he will not brood until it's time for her to leave him.

*

Cassandra is staring at him. Being as how it's Cassandra, this can mean only one thing: he's being confusing.

Or, to be more specific, his body is saying far too many conflicting things. More so than *usual* --

And he's terrified to ask what they are --

So he doesn't.

Not for the first fifteen minutes of their lesson -- the fifteen minutes Cassandra tends to spend glaring at the books for being books --

Not for the next hour -- when Cassandra is resigned and focused --

And not for the next forty-five minutes -- when Cassandra gets up to pace and stretch and shadow-box while Tim offers rules of the English language, tips, and tricks.

But she has stared at him throughout, and --

And Tim gives up on explaining gerunds and puts his face in his hands.

In moments, Cassandra is massaging him with her small, hard hands and periodically patting his cheeks. She only does that when Tim is dangerously close to losing the thread and having a panic attack. That --

"I'm -- that bad?"

"Yes."

"Damn. I'm sorry."

"Okay," she says, and strokes his back, and his hair, and his back again.

Tim works on his breathing --

"Yes."

Tim keeps it up until he can feel himself getting noticeably less tense -- and can, at last, realize how tense he had *gotten*. He has a long way to go. It doesn't help that the chairs in the sunroom are distinctly unkind to those who have engaged in anal sex --

With *supervillains* --

Well. Probably they're terrible to people who've gotten anal from *nice* people, too.

Probably.

"Funny?"

Tim waves a hand -- no, this is, in part, about increasing Cassandra's comfort and proficiency with verbal communication. Tim takes another deep breath. "I was -- thinking about these chairs, and how terrible they are."

"Yes. Hate them."

Tim blinks. "I... hate them, too. We don't have to study in here --"

"Steph likes it."

Well -- that's true. "Still --"

Cassandra stops massaging him and sits on the table next to him, cocking her head to the side.

"The lessons don't have to be terrible in *every* way, Cassandra."

Her expression turns distant -- and then she nods and gathers the books and papers. "Come."

"Sure."

She leads them to... the pool. It's humid, and the air smells of minerals and salt. She drops the study materials on the floor unceremoniously -- they're never, ever going to practice with any of Bruce's first editions -- and then collects several of the thick, soft towels for them to sit on.

Tim grins. "Better?"

She grins back and nods. "What else... was funny?"

Ah -- that. "Ah... I was thinking, vaguely, that the chairs were punishing me for having anal sex with Lex Luthor."

She nods again and continues to stare at him --

"And... I was wondering if they would be punishing me that much if I'd had anal sex with, say, Bruce."

She wrinkles her nose at him.

"Sometimes, my mind isn't a very logical place."

"No," she says, and covers his hand, rubbing it roughly. "Why are you... confused?"

"Ah... because I didn't intend to have sex with anyone last night. Not really."

"Why did you?"

Because they were *there* -- no. Tim shakes his head. "I was... weak -- ow."

Cassandra holds the pinch on the back of Tim's hand for another moment.

"I... wasn't weak?"

"Sexuality is natural and... entirely human. Everyone feels... desire. Nearly everyone acts on that desire... sooner or later," and Cassandra raises an eyebrow *precisely* like Barbara would.

Tim hums. "Yes, you're right. Other people do so with more appropriate people, though."

"'Appropriate.'"

"Not -- hm. Evil?"

"He is evil?" And her pinching hand is hovering over his hand.

"Not... he seems to have... decided to change. To... stop doing evil things."

"Because of you."

"So he says."

Cassandra frowns and studies him. "Why are you lying?"

Lying? Oh -- dear. "I do believe him."

"Yes."

"I don't -- I feel foolish for believing him."

Her frown gets deeper. "Are you wrong about him?"

He wants to *hedge* -- "I don't think I am. Other people have felt the same --"

"Would you have felt the same... in their... times?"

"Situations."

Cassandra makes a face and points at the paper.

Tim writes the word down, breaking it up by syllable --

"Si-tu-a-tion."

"Yes."

"The... places-times-events. All at once?"

"Yes --"

"Bruce-word. Bat-word," she says, and sighs sadly for the fact that it's yet another word she'll have to learn. She traces it with her fingers and -- Tim knows -- commits it to memory. And then she looks at him --

Right. "I can't say for sure whether I would have felt the same in their situations... but I don't think I would have. He's dismantling his shady and outright immoral operations in some very easily-checked ways. I *have* checked -- and so has *Barbara*. I can't be sure of everything, but what I *am* sure of... well."

"Dis-mantle-ing?"

"Breaking apart. Destroying in organized ways."

"Useful. Write."

He does --

"No 'e'."

"No, it's dropped for most gerunds."

She makes a face -- and then nods. "Does he love you?"

"He... says he does."

She frowns at him.

"I do believe him. I just also believe... that he's lying to himself." Doesn't he?

The way he'd *looked* at Tim --

The promises and utter *surety* --

And the knowledge of years to back it up. Years with relationships both minor and serious, both temporary and permanent --

Tim swallows and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid."

"Yes. Why?"

Well... that's an excellent question --

With several easy answers. Tim sighs and looks up, smiling wryly --

"You don't smile enough when you're happy."

Tim blinks. "I'm -- you're absolutely right. Hm. I'll work on it."

Cassandra nods. "Why afraid?"

"One, people in love are easily hurt by the people they're in love with, even when the people they're in love with are honest and well-meaning. I'm neither... and I don't want to hurt him."

"And?"

"Two, if he's in love with me... if he's in love with the person I've shown myself to be, then I have to admit that it's possible for that person *to* be loved. I don't want to do that."

She frowns at him and lifts her pinching hand again --

"Ah... to elaborate -- "

"Expand-explain?"

"Yes," Tim says, and starts to write it down --

"I know it."

"Okay. To elaborate, both Steph and Lex have pointed out that I'm... lovable. To them, anyway --"

"You are lovable."

"Ah -- thank you."

Cassandra glares at him.

"I believe you!"

"*Lie*!"

Gah -- "I'm working on believing you!"

Cassandra studies him -- and then nods.

"Ah. Anyway. I'm afraid of believing that -- please don't pinch me again."

"Steph would."

"Steph would *hit* me."

"Would pinch if she knew how. Pinches hurt more."

"It's -- true." Tim sighs. "I'm afraid of believing that because... because it implies a large number of problematic things. Like... like that I've been lonely for... no good reason."

Cassandra looks down and frowns. "Know that."

"I know you do. I'm sorry," Tim says, and squeezes her hand.

"My fault."

"Our fault, too."

Cassandra cocks her head to the side -- and nods. "Okay. Why else? Why are you afraid?"

"I'm also -- I don't. When people love me." Tim covers his face with his free hand -- "Please don't pinch me."

"More talking!"

That -- Tim looks up and grins. "Yes?"

"Always need to talk with you," she says, and scowls at him. "Too many lies in you."

"I -- hm. All right, there's a point. I... it always seems to... pull something out of me. Being loved, I mean."

"Yes."

"And that... I don't. I don't want to love Lex Luthor."

"What about Lex?"

Tim opens his mouth -- but Lex is absolutely a different person in his mind.

How the *hell* did that happen?

What -- "I'll keep talking!"

Cassandra moves her pinching hand and looks expectant.

"I -- I care about him."

"Yes."

"That was obvious?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

She glares at him.

"I don't *like* being obvious!"

"Should."

"But --"

"When people know what you want, they *give* it to you."

Tim opens his mouth and closes it again -- no. "If they can."

"Yes."

"If they *want* to --"

"Yes. Bruce. Bruce gives you things when he knows what you want. Same for all of us."

Tim swallows. "He loves -- us."

"Yes. Lex gives you things?"

"When -- I let him. Or ask him."

"Lex... is happy around you?"

"Yes --"

"Even when you lie?"

"Yes."

"Even when you lie a *lot*?"

Tim laughs helplessly. "I -- yes."

"Crazy."

"Yes."

Cassandra narrows her eyes. "Good crazy?"

Lex is --

("The man who will do many, many things in order to have you.")

"I... think he might be."

"Make him be."

"No one can change anyone else --"

"Not change. Not fix. *Direct*," and Cassandra's gestures a person --

Many people --

And one person *directing* many people.

"Like... my team."

"Yes."

"He's really rather dominant --"

(You're holding the whip, darling -- and I will not *ever* forget that...")

"Hm."

"Love makes people submit," Cassandra says -- and raises her eyebrow like Barbara again. And that --

"Do you... ah."

"What?"

"With... Barbara?"

"No."

"Ah. All --"

"With *Batgirl*."

Tim blinks... a great deal. And considers -- "She... laughs? And means it?"

Cassandra smiles broadly. "Yes."

Now that... would be entirely fascinating --

"Don't even think about it, Boy Wonder."

-- and he truly is still wearing the jewelry.

Tim smiles. "In Gotham, Robin symbolizes hope, Oracle."

"In the Clocktower, Robin symbolizes... any number of lovely, lovely things."

Tim hums. "To you."

"Oh, yes. Think about it."

"You mean other than in my nightmares?"

"One day, Prime is going to hook you up to a certain bit of Kryptonian machinery... and then I'll get to see those dreams for myself."

"So what you're saying is that you never want me to go... south."

"Hn. Robins belong on *this* continent. Are you going to come see me?"

"Will my nether regions be imperiled?"

"The future's not ours to see."

Tim snorts. "No...? Oracle...?"

"Hn. Hn. I have toys..."

"Yes, I *know*."

"I have *other* toys. Toys young, intrepid hackers just might want to see for themselves."

"Oh -- ooh."

"And... you're off-duty."

"That's... true."

"And A has decided that B won't get to eat unless he comes upstairs."

"*Fuck* -- ah. Ah. Ah. I'll be right over."

"Bring take-out from the Pakistani place. You know the one."

"So I do. R-1 out."

"Mm-hm."

Cassandra is frowning at him -- sadly, not direfully.

Tim smiles ruefully. "I'm not ready to speak to Bruce."

She studies him -- and nods. "No. He loves you."

"Yes. Yes, I -- I'm not ready to let that happen... either."

Another nod. "Hard."

"Yes."

She claps her palm over her heart. "*Hard*."

"Yes."

"Good, though. Warm."

"I..."

"You're not ready to be warm."

Tim stares at his hands --

No, that's Bruce's *and* Lex's bad habit --

And Cassandra crawls closer and hugs him. Just --

Tim sighs and relaxes. "Thank you."

"Welcome."

"I... do love you."

"I know."

"And -- the rest of the family --"

"Yes."

"I'm so glad you're one of us. I'm." Tim swallows painfully --

Cassandra hugs him *harder* --

"It's almost. It's almost like being able to touch them myself."

"Want to pinch you."

"Ah --"

"Won't."

"Thank you --"

"Do better," she says, pulling back and clapping his shoulder hard enough to numb it for a moment.

Tim smiles ruefully. "I'm trying."

She studies him for a long moment -- "Try harder."

"All right --"

"Bruce kisses like hugs. Bruce kisses like hurt. Bruce kisses like *pain*," she says, and smacks her groin through her jeans.

"I. Hm. Good... hurt? And pain?"

"Yes." She frowns. "Sometimes yes. Mostly yes. Sometimes the hurt is him hurting *himself*."

"Yes, that makes sense. And... when he touches you?"

She gestures -- a person squeezed in a fist --

Then released --

Then in *flight*.

Tim blinks. "That -- really?"

"You have to let him. It doesn't work if you don't," and she glares at him *exactly* like he should've known that.

Perhaps he should've. Tim nods thoughtfully. "And when he's... ah... inside you?"

She gestures -- two people --

Three --

*Eight* --

"Ah... hm."

She gathers them all together and they hug, and touch, and rub against each other, and --

Tim blushes. "Noted. I'll keep that in mind."

"Lex?"

"Just -- just hearing you say his name like that --"

"How *you* say it."

"I -- oh."

She looks at him impatiently. And -- right.

"He kisses..." Tim swallows. "He kisses like a promise. Like *several* promises at once. He kisses -- I wanted more. Instantly."

She nods and gestures continue --

"He touches me and I'm... lost, to a certain extent. Or -- no. That happens as soon as I touch *him*. I can still speak, and tease, and question --"

"Lie?"

"And lie, yes -- but." Tim licks his lips. "I can't stop cataloging his warmth. His... reality."

Cassandra frowns --

"I know I'm not very good at this -- ah. I'll try again," Tim says, and thinks about smooth, hairless skin --

Warmth --

Hard hands. *Hard* -- "When he touches me, I can't -- I'm nowhere else. I'm in... ah..." Tim sketches a circle on the tiled floor with his fingers, then *plants* his index finger in the middle of it and raises his eyebrows.

"No... escape?"

Tim smiles ruefully. "If there is, I haven't found it."

She closes her fist around his finger and squeezes hard enough for it to feel *dangerous* --

"No. More like --" He separates their hands and lifts her index finger, then squeezes it all over, marks it in *space* --

Cassandra shivers and nods. "Inside you?"

And he's full again, moaning and begging --

Clawing at Lex and aching so much, *needing* so much --

He hadn't been able to stop *staring*, just --

Nothing had ever felt --

Not even the *first* time he'd fucked himself with less pain than pleasure --

Lex had made him sound like an *animal* -- and feel like one, too. He uses his first two fingers to symbolize someone walking -- and then he drops the person to his 'knees.' With a jar.

Cassandra blinks. "Barbara?"

*Tim* blinks. "Ah... no? Hm." He wraps the thumb and index finger of his other hand around the kneeling fingers --

He strokes and pets the kneeling fingers --

He lets the kneeling fingers take flight --

"Barbara."

Tim frowns. "No... there was no real *submission*, Cassandra."

"Did you want submission?"

"I -- a part of me did. Most of me was too conflicted about it."

Cassandra nods thoughtfully and gestures to Tim's fingers. "Bruce said about Barbara."

"Oh... hm." Tim stares at his own fingers.

Cassandra strokes them. "Should have sex with Barbara."

"I --"

"Would lie less after," she says, then frowns at him. "Maybe."

Tim laughs -- somewhat helplessly. It's time for dinner, which means it's time for him to leave. "Let's take the books back upstairs?"

Cassandra nods and gathers them in no particular order, and Tim puts the towels away again. When he's done, Cassandra is waiting for him -- "Message?"

"I -- my love. To both Bruce and Steph. And Alfred, too, of course. But not the same love. And -- you already know that."

Cassandra wrinkles her nose at him and sticks her tongue out.

Tim smiles ruefully. "Noted, once again."

She nods at him and goes without another word --

And Tim collects his jacket and wallet, calls in a large order to Shezan, and heads down to the garage for his civilian bike, doing his level best to not make it *look* like he's running away with his tail between his legs --

Even though he is.

Still, working for appearances allows him to only arrive at Shezan a *little* too early, and that counts as a victory. As usual, there are almost no actual patrons and what seems to be far too many employees. Sooner or later, Robin is going to have to look into the organized crime connections, but he thinks he's allowed to hope that they'll be minor. The keema paratha alone is worth a *few* terrible crimes --

And he really needs to watch himself for thoughts like that now that he's *dating* *Lex Luthor* --

But mostly he has to pay, and smile politely and innocuously, and generally look like an average -- if moderately worldly -- boy who definitely isn't a superhero *or* dating a supervillain *or* going to be frightened badly by Oracle.

To that end, he takes the food and packs most of it in his storage compartment, balancing the last two bags on the handlebars and promising himself -- and the food -- that he'll drive as safely as possible.

He does so, though it takes a full fifteen minutes to make it to the Clocktower despite it being only a handful of blocks away. The perils of not being able to simply leave *this* bike wherever he wants to and trust it to take care of itself. Still, he *does* make it, and he parks in the underground garage that opens for him as he pulls up --

And then presents himself -- and his food -- to the cameras by the elevators.

"Chicken tikka?"

"Two full orders."

"Dal makhani?"

"A quart."

"Raita?"

"Spicy enough to melt the -- many -- plastic containers."

"Hn. You pass," and the elevator doors open.

Tim steps in and closes his eyes --

And the scanner beeps once for the knife strapped to his back -- and chimes for the explosive pellet under his false fingernail.

"Tim."

"Yes, Barbara?"

"You had that in there while you were giving Cassandra her reading lessons."

"Ah... you never know?"

Barbara snorts -- and the elevator doors open on the inner sanctum.

Tim scans the area for changes and additions -- there's a bit more clutter, and Tim knows that that has far more to do with Dick's regular visits than with *anything* else -- and then moves to Oracle's work area --

Where there just happens to be a cleared worktable --

And Black Canary.

Tim inclines his head --

And Canary flares her nostrils. "Gimme gimme gimme!"

Tim smiles. "Surely you know what happens when people give Barbara's food away...?"

Canary growls -- and does it very much like Dinah Lance.

Tim hums and hands over some of his kebabs and naan -- "But you owe me."

Dinah nods and eats without any actual words --

And Barbara walks out of the training room with a towel around her neck. She's wearing a well-worn old blue -- it's nearly grey at this point -- BPD t-shirt and black running shorts. No shoes, and -- hm.

"Missing Dick...?"

Barbara smiles at him and closes the distance between them -- a lot.

She's close enough that Tim can smell her perfume and the lingering hints of her soap --

"I'm giving sympathetic magic a try, Boy Wonder," she says, and leans in *further* --

Tim holds his ground and raises an eyebrow --

And Barbara laughs and pulls Tim into -- a hug.

Oh. Right. Tim hugs back and laughs ruefully. "I'm sorry --"

"Mm, you're forgiven, Ingénue Wonder."

Tim *snorts* --

And Barbara squeezes him harder and kisses his cheek before pulling back to look him over. Her hair is pulled into a messy chignon -- the only sort Dinah is capable of giving her -- hm.

Tim pulls back and looks at Dinah -- who is dipping naan in raita and making desperate panting noises for the spiciness -- and then back at Barbara. He raises an eyebrow.

Barbara's smile is slow and lazy and *dark*. "She's always hungry after a... workout."

"Really."

Barbara licks her teeth. Slowly. It can be immensely difficult to remember that she's only an inch taller than him and that they could reasonably share some of their clothes -- but.

Tim raises an eyebrow and cocks his hip --

And Barbara looks down at Tim's groin, smile *quirking* on her face. "Person Wonder."

"Ah -- yes?"

"Do you *ever* plan to wear boxer-briefs again?"

"I do wear them when I'm suited up --"

"Other than that."

Well... Tim raises his eyebrow higher. "Did you have a preference?"

Barbara shows her teeth. "Whatever makes you comfortable enough to... relax."

"Some of us don't do that sort of thing."

"You really should," Dinah -- maybe -- says. Her mouth is full.

Barbara looks at her fondly for a moment -- and then smiles *warmly* at Tim. "I've missed you."

He hasn't been here in -- weeks. Tim winces. "I -- I'm sorry --"

Barbara waves a hand. "I know. It's my fault, too. Let's eat."

Tim nods and moves to join Dinah at the table, where it immediately becomes clear that it was a good idea to order extra kebabs. Dinah has been wrapping them in the naan and dipping them into her containers of raita. Her expression is the next thing to *stoned* --

And Tim notices, belatedly, that she's wearing workout clothes, as well. Tim shakes his head at himself --

"Yes, Tim?" And Barbara is looking at him over her dal.

"No, it's not important. I wasn't being observant enough."

Dinah says -- something. It's impossible to tell what, though, and she's leering at him.

Barbara snorts. "Try again, Dinah."

She does --

Tim shakes his head slowly. It's impossible to read her lips --

Dinah swallows. Hugely.

And belches. *Ringingly*.

And then snickers, presumably at the look of horror on Tim's face. She kicks him lightly. "You are so damned prissy."

"I -- yes. Yes, I am," Tim says, and cuts his kebab into bite-sized pieces.

"I was *saying* -- you have a *lot* to think about these days," and she waggles her dark eyebrows.

Tim makes a sour face --

"Aww, come on, you gotta *share*. *I* only fucked R'as. *You* shot for the moon," she says, and grins at him.

"And the stars, the planets, the nebulae... hn."

Tim glares at Barbara.

Barbara reaches out -- and strokes Tim's necklace. "Do I fill that circle in, yet...?"

"I... am going to eat," Tim says, and does just that.

Dinah snickers more and then gets into a brief and painful-looking slap fight over one of Barbara's trays of chicken tikka. Barbara pulls out her escrima bastons, though, and the fight ends with Dinah sucking her fingers and scowling.

Tim pushes over his tray of chicken biryani --

Dinah goes back to eating happily.

She doesn't actually make a *mess*, but it seems like she should be doing so. Something about the *mindless*-looking joy she's taking in using the naan to scoop up the biryani --

Well, it is, in fact, excellent food.

And Barbara bestows on them one chunk of chicken tikka each, so she must be feeling at least *generally* good --

And Tim doesn't give himself the chance for this kind of thing enough. He --

He pauses and dabs at his mouth with a paper napkin.

Dinah raises her eyebrows.

"I missed you," Tim says, and smiles at them ruefully. "Both of you."

Dinah swallows and belches again -- and snorts. And giggles. "Uh. I didn't mean that one," she says, and hooks her foot behind Tim's ankle. "I missed you, too, squirt. How come you don't come over more often?"

"Ah... terror? Terror is my usual reason."

Dinah scowls at Barbara -- who is shamelessly stealing chunks of chicken from Tim's biryani.

"They all have to learn *sometime*, Dinah," and Barbara gives him a *hot* look.

"You still have to be nice to virgins! They're -- uh. Tender!"

Barbara makes a face.

"I was definitely tender," Tim says, and tries the biryani with the naan -- yes, very good. "Soft and fragile. Delicate."

Dinah snickers again. "Which is why you put yourself in range of *Bruce*?"

Barbara hums. "He can be *very* gentle. Loving. Right, Tim...?"

Tim blushes. "Ah... right, yes."

"No bruises?"

"No bruises," Tim says, and sips his lassi.

*Dinah* makes a face -- "What's the *point*?"

Barbara snorts. "Dinah."

"I -- he's *Bruce*. He's got those hands, and those *legs*, and that *hair* --"

"I'm reasonably sure he can't bruise me with his *hair*, Dinah," and Tim lets his expression be pinched --

"How *is* the stubble-burn on your thighs, Fraternization Wonder...?"

Tim opens his mouth --

And Dinah leans back and sighs. "Love that. Love that *so* much."

Tim blinks. "Ah... stubble-burn on your thighs?"

"*Fuck*, yes," she says, and her expression turns dreamy. "Well, beard-burn most of the time these days. It's not quite the same."

"Of course, but --"

"*But* it's distracting as hell for the people I'm split-kicking."

"So is your zippered *crotch*, Dinah."

Dinah giggles and reaches over to tickle Barbara's forearm --

"Do you want more food?"

Dinah stops tickling -- and jerks her chin at Tim. "She's totally an extra hard hard-ass around you, you know."

"Dinah."

Dinah sticks her tongue out at Barbara. "I'm *full*," and she turns back to Tim. "You should stop letting her smell your fear."

Tim hums. "But she enjoys it so much."

Barbara sighs. "And sometimes he's just the *sweetest* little boy."

"*Are* you gonna grow any more? It's been kind of a while."

Tim snorts and reaches for his half of the dal --

Barbara gives it to him *with* a stroke for his knuckles.

Tim looks at her from under his lashes --

"Hn. Answer her. Or aren't *I* allowed to give you orders?"

"Oracle is. Not you."

Barbara purses her lips -- and then blows him a kiss.

Tim hums and turns back to Dinah. "Bruce is convinced that I'll -- eventually -- make it to five feet nine inches. Most of the time, it's difficult to believe that."

Dinah nods and crosses her legs, scratching her knee. "Well, it's not like you're not fantastic -- and getting better -- as you are. I've seen your stats -- I'd work with you anytime."

Tim smiles. "Thank you, Dinah. The feeling is, of course, mutual."

"So *polite*."

"Not with Luthor," Barbara says, and sips her own lassi.

"Well, you *can't* be polite to *him*. It's against the rules."

Tim laughs quietly. "Or so I've always believed, yes. I -- the general course of our interactions says so much about *both* of us."

Dinah raises her eyebrows. "You're in an 'us' with him."

"I --"

"He really is," and Barbara pushes the keema paratha closer to Tim.

Tim eats it and does his best to look mysterious, as opposed to simply closed-off --

And Dinah giggles again. "Well, you know *I* don't judge -- lassi for me?"

Tim offers his own --

And Dinah sips and hums, sips and purrs, sips and -- "Oops. Um. Okay, you can have it back. You could've *told* him I'd be here, too, Babs!"

"Dinah. You told me that you didn't -- and I'm quoting -- 'have time to watch me frighten poor, unsuspecting teenagers.'"

"I --"

Tim hums. "I assure you, Dinah -- I suspect *everything*."

Dinah snorts and pushes the lassi back across the table. "Um -- figure of speech?"

Tim inclines his head --

"But -- you really should let her work you over at least *once*, Tim. I mean, now that there's no cherry to *protect*."

Because -- he's not a virgin anymore.

He'd had sex with Bruce *and* Lex Luthor -- no.

He'd had sex with Lex. With the man who had murdered his father and then done everything he could to remove all trace of him from the company he'd built --

And then had become him --

And then -- *now* --

("Darling.")

Tim swallows and blushes -- and eats more keema paratha. The spice-blend -- heavy on cardamom and cumin -- is wonderful, *bright* in his mouth --

Does Lex like this sort of food?

Would he like to taste it in Tim's mouth?

He's not a *virgin* anymore --

"He's pretty much gone, isn't he."

"Oh, he's still in there, Dinah. You can tell by the furrows in his brow."

"He's had those *forever*."

"They're one of his most attractive traits."

"Hunh. How often does he shave?"

"Once a week, usually. Twice for his legs."

"Poor thing."

Tim raises a hand.

"Oh, you're back?"

"I was never -- ah. Yes," Tim says, and smiles ruefully. "It's a bit mind-blowing still. The lack of virginity, I mean."

Dinah kicks him lightly. "Well, it's *new*! Even I was -- okay, no, I wasn't."

Barbara hums. "You didn't give yourself much time to *be* a virgin once you were pubescent."

Dinah sighs. "Didn't see the point. I mean -- Ted was *right* *there*."

*Barbara* sighs and eats naan. "So he was. And is."

Dinah kicks him lightly. "You should see if you can get some of *that*. He's not scary even a little, and -- mm."

"Agreed."

"He's a bit... gruff."

Dinah stares at him. "That's the best *part*."

"Hn. Do you only date aristocrats, Tim?"

Tim chokes on his keema paratha --

And Barbara *whacks* his back --

"I'm fine! I'm fine. Ah. No. Not only aristocrats," Tim says, and glares at Barbara. "It's just that men like that rarely appreciate my... ah... aesthetic. Wait, is he even *attracted* to male-bodied people?"

Barbara and Dinah share a look --

Dinah bites her lip -- "There was that time --"

"Sex pollen."

"Okay, what about --"

"Sex nebula."

"Hunh. You're right." Dinah bites her lip harder. "Yeah, it could be a problem. Sorry, Tim."

"It's quite all right. There *are* breasts in my future, after all."

Dinah grins brightly and makes squeezing motions with her hands --

So Tim covers his pectoral muscles with his hands and looks down demurely --

And Dinah *and* Barbara snort --

"You know, Boy Wonder... I *don't* have to keep calling you that."

"It's all right --"

"Is it? Or do you only demand exactitude from people who get to *touch* you...?"

"Ah... hm. I don't -- I think I may need to think about that."

Dinah sighs again and stands, coming around the table to kiss his cheek --

"Oh -- thank you."

"Mm-hmm. It's Bruce's turn for your ass next, Tim. No letting Luthor get you too sore for *family*."

"That is, in fact, a rule," Barbara says, and dips her last shred of naan in her raita.

"I'll... keep it in mind," Tim says, and squeezes Dinah's hand. "Give my regards to everyone it seems appropriate to give them to."

"Heh heh. I can't *wait* to tell Roy what you've been up to."

"Oh, dear. He'll tell Dick and -- ah. Perhaps... perhaps just Connor?"

"Not a *chance*," Dinah says, backing up several steps. "One to teleport, location twenty-eight A." And she waves as she disappears.

Location twenty-eight A... is almost certainly Oliver Queen's home in Star City -- or rather his headquarters. They -- all of them -- could use the teleporter far more often than they do. It's not the most pleasant experience in the world, but a) it's entirely possible to grow accustomed to it, and b) it's a *teleporter*. His trips to San Francisco *alone* would be more sensibly handled by using it --

And Barbara is staring at him.

Tim raises an eyebrow.

She grins and hands him her cordless. "Call him."

"Ah --"

"While he's feeling good and needy."

"Barbara."

"You realize you have a responsibility here, don't you? You're in the process of turning the most dangerous man on the planet -- a man who happens to be *convinced* that there's nothing you can do to derail his newfound morality."

"Yes, and the more I play on those sympathies now, the *uglier* things will get if and when he ever figures out the secret."

"Hn." Barbara pushes her chair back and puts her feet up on the table. Her right sheath is pretending to be a very exciting sock. Her left sheath is working itself back and forth over her knee -- "Don't play, then. Be... serious."

"Ah -- Barbara."

"It won't be difficult. You're already... fond of him."

"And that isn't something I was planning to encourage in myself --"

"Tim. There's nothing you can do about it short of having Raven do something disturbing to your emotions. Which would be *temporary*."

Tim frowns and drums his fingers on the table.

"All right. Look at it this way: the more sincere and open you are about wanting -- so, so badly -- not to hurt him? The more he *believes* you about that...?"

"The less likely he is to want to *immediately* wreak terrible vengeance on us all when the time comes? I'm not so sure about that, Barbara. Wreaking terrible vengeance is what he *does*."

Barbara spreads her hands. "Insurance, Tim. It might not get you -- or the rest of us -- anywhere in particular... but it's always better to have it."

Tim -- packs the leftovers away and brings them to Barbara's refrigerator, arranging them as neatly as possible --

"Bring ice cream!"

He opens the freezer and pulls out butter almond for Barbara -- her favorite after spicy meals -- and sweet-cream-and-nutmeg for himself. A metal spoon for Barbara, a thick plastic spoon for himself --

"No *bowls*!"

"Barbara --"

"Don't make me come in there."

No bowls, then. And when he gets back to the table, the cordless is gone --

But there's a headset, instead.

And Barbara's wearing her own headset.

And --

"You know you want to."

Tim sits down and allows himself to slump to a certain extent. "I do."

Barbara makes a small sound and rolls her chair close to Tim's own. "Don't feel guilty."

"I --"

"Don't feel guilty. Not even if you want Lex *more* than you want Bruce."

"I *don't* -- I. I want them. Equally. Fuck."

Barbara takes Tim's hands and squeezes them. "He's made himself this close to perfect for you. You're allowed to be affected."

"I can't -- I can't have him, Barbara."

"And that makes him more attractive?"

Tim laughs quietly. "You were supposed to argue with that statement."

"Ah -- were you thinking of *retiring* --"

"*No*!"

"Then I can't actually argue with that statement. He -- he is who he is. Sooner or later he's going to do something you're morally obligated to *thwart*, because his definition of 'good guy' includes murdering people. He *admitted* that to you."

Tim takes his hands back --

"Tim --"

"Diana. Roy. Oliver. Dinah. Helena --"

"You're making excuses for him."

"I --" Tim squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then opens then and meets Barbara's eyes. "You live and work in the grey areas, Barbara."

Barbara smiles ruefully. "I really do. But *you* don't."

"Robin doesn't," Tim blurts -- and blushes -- "Ah... fuck?"

"Tim. Did you want to *actually* rip Bruce's heart out?"

"No. No. I just -- I was never -- Steph is a much better Robin for Bruce than I could ever be."

"You *are* thinking about retiring --"

"I'm *not*. I'm still -- I still want to go out and cause assorted criminals to have assorted kinds of bad nights. I still want to wear ridiculous clothes while I'm at it. I still --" Tim smiles ruefully. "It wouldn't be especially security-conscious for Tim Drake to grow breasts at the same time the black-haired Robin does."

"That's an *excellent* excuse, Tim, but -- did you want to leave Gotham?"

"No. I -- the guilt would be crippling."

"That's not what I asked."

Tim pushes a hand back over his hair. "I know. And -- the answer is still no. I like working out of the Cave. I like living in the manor. I like... Bruce has been... " Tim shakes his head. "I like being close to him."

"So much that you came *here* to eat *take-out* --"

"Very *good* take-out --"

"Tim."

"I'm not ready to face him, Barbara. Even -- even knowing that he doesn't blame me. I *will* be ready to face him soon, though, because I'll start missing him... quickly. I already do."

Barbara nods, but she looks troubled.

"It's okay -- I mean. None of this is happening tomorrow."

"Tim... how close are you to your own edge?"

"Ah --"

"At any given moment. Any --" Barbara frowns. "You're upending your entire life... after having had your entire life upended six months ago... after having had your entire life upended *four* months before that."

"Ah. Hm."

Barbara raises an eyebrow.

"I didn't really... think of it that way."

"Do you need..." Barbara shakes her head again. "*What* do you need?"

"I --"

"Make a list, Tim. Trivial things, medium things, important things. Jumble them all together."

"I -- need to eat this ice cream."

"Do so."

Tim starts on it immediately. Dick had given Helena an ice cream maker for no reason any of them could ever fathom. Helena had started using it more out of an urge to be bloody-minded than out of an urge to *cook*... but she's very, very good at it. Her sweet cream flavors are particularly perfect -- "I need to know how Bruce is doing."

Oracle taps her sheathed knee -- and the monitors show Bruce teaching Steph a muay Thai shin-kick. Steph is grinning -- and Bruce is smiling. Good.

"Thank you."

"Mm-hm."

Tim eats more ice cream and considers -- he puts the ice cream down.

"Yes?"

"I need a hug."

Barbara stands and pulls him into a warm, tight, *close* hug --

Tim sighs and relaxes into it. "I need breasts that feel like yours."

Barbara hums. "I'll take the compliment as read. *Are* you going for saline?"

"I --"

The doorbell chimes -- and one of the monitors switches to a view of Clark Kent standing on the street holding three clip-lock baggies full of cookies. He smiles at the camera and waves.

Barbara blinks -- and looks a question at him.

"I need to say no to Clark again."

Clark frowns at the camera. Sadly.

"But he can come in -- if you don't mind."

Barbara hums and buzzes Clark in -- and hugs Tim again, stroking Tim's hair. "You're allowed to be fucked-up, Tim."

"I. I'm trying to avoid it."

"Your father took your life -- and most of your family and friends -- away from you for months. He saw reason... and promptly got murdered for it, sending your stepmother off the deep end --"

"Barbara --"

"And, after throwing yourself into every possible undercover assignment which would allow you to play with conceptions of your gender, everyone started hitting on you."

"They -- they were hitting on me before --"

"But we got serious about it," Barbara says, pulling back and stroking Tim's short left sideburn. "Didn't we."

"Ah... yes."

"And it didn't help that we all started screwing *each other*. And, of course, Clark."

"I'm really very happy about that," Clark says, and places the cookies -- they seem to be oatmeal-raisin-pecan-chocolate -- on the table. "I -- very happy," and he beams at both of them.

Hopefully.

Tim smiles wryly and shakes his head.

Clark sighs -- and pulls... something out of his pocket. It's translucent and... jiggly. He raises an eyebrow and offers it to Tim.

Tim takes it -- and blushes immediately. It feels *precisely* like holding one of Steph's breasts, only *warmer*. "Ah... what?"

"It's something I asked the AI to work on some time ago as mattress material for people with back injuries. It's quite terrible for *that* use... but." And Clark beams hopefully again.

Barbara snorts. "You want to give him Kryptonian breast implants."

"Oh... it would be like being close to him always, Barbara."

Tim narrows his eyes. "How close."

Clark blinks. "Oh! There's no ability to... ah... interface. Unless you'd like that?"

"I... don't think I need cybernetic breasts," Tim says, and *then* considers it --

Barbara snickers. "Let *me* feel -- oh, my. This is better than the ones Bruce made for you."

"That feels incredibly disloyal -- ah. Give it back?"

Barbara squeezes it *firmly* -- "I'm impressed," she says, and holds it against Tim's chest --

It flows into a very natural breast *shape* -- Tim takes it back and lets himself dream, a little. Just --

To have these for his body --

To have his body be that much closer to *correct* --

Tim shivers --

"Will you be sharing *these* with humanity, Clark?"

"Oh, yes. I've just about decided which breast cancer charity to give them to for marketing purposes."

Barbara hums. "And the surgery?"

"The AI could do it with a minimum of scarring. The addition of the nanites would allow speedier healing, too," and Clark is looking at him --

Clark has, of course, been paying attention to *every* secret he's been sharing, every --

Tim swallows and hands the implant back. "I -- I'll think about it."

Clark *envelops* Tim's hands in his own and squeezes gently. "If you ever need to speak about anything at all, Tim, I hope you'll think of me along with your family. You have suffered much, and... I want you to know that, even though I can never truly understand, I would be honored to try."

Tim -- blinks too much. And swallows -- "Thank you, Clark."

Clark smiles broadly and lifts Tim's hands to his mouth --

"Ah --"

But all he does is breathe *hot* on them before letting go and kneeling to Barbara. "There's a volcano in Iceland which badly needs to be encouraged not to erupt, but, after that... I am at your disposal."

"Noted, Clark," Barbara says, and winds a lock of his hair around her finger and tugs *hard* --

Clark *grunts* -- and hums.

"Take the *other* exit."

"Yes, Barbara," Clark says, winking at Tim -- and flying.

Barbara sighs and points to Tim's ice cream.

Tim sits down again and begins eating it, idly composing a love letter to Helena's skills and creativity --

"Back to your needs."

"I need -- fewer people to take care of me."

Barbara looks at him.

Tim smiles ruefully and licks ice cream off the spoon. "All right. I need fewer people to notice what a mess I am."

Barbara continues to look at him.

"I need... to already be better. Stronger. Something."

Barbara --

"You *asked* --"

"Play the game, Tim."

Tim -- eats more ice cream.

And doesn't look at Barbara.

And -- he looks at Barbara. "I need to know that I couldn't have had a positive relationship with my father even if I had tried."

"You *did* try --"

"Not. Not passionately. Not honestly."

Barbara frowns. "You certainly fooled all of us, Tim."

"You wanted to believe that that was the kind of person I was. It... fit into an acceptable paradigm."

Barbara crosses her legs and drags the sheath down off her knee --

It flows into something of a legwarmer --

And Barbara sighs. "I'll stipulate that you only pretended to put your back into making it work with your father."

Tim inclines his head --

"On one condition."

"Ah... ah?"

"That you *own* the fact that *most* of you was going with the idea that it would be pointless... because of everything the man did and failed to do for the first sixteen years of your life."

Tim frowns and squeezes the carton -- no, not that. He puts the ice cream down.

He thinks about Lex watching him eat it --

*Enjoying* watching him eat it --

He thinks about Bruce feeding it to him, one spoonful after another while he looked into Tim's eyes, while he *spoke* --

And he could *let* Bruce speak, and listen, and *believe* --

Bruce hasn't lied to him for anything but the Mission in so *long* --

He thinks about his father, and how he'd always been well-meaning. Affable. *Friendly*. Watching him point a gun at Bruce had been --

A *gun*.

At *Bruce* --

But he'd apologized for that, and accepted that Tim was needed on the street, and --

He'd *apologized*, and had admitted that his anger had been more about his own failings than about anything else. He was embarrassed --

*Anyone* would've been embarrassed --

The Lex and Barbara in his head are agreeing that his father hadn't paid enough attention to him before --

To all of Tim's scars and bumps and bruises --

The bloodstains he'd had to learn to wash out of his sheets -- and he hadn't been *good* at it at first --

And his father had never asked.

And -- there just hadn't been all that many family events Tim had had to cancel in order to train or go out as Robin --

And there had been even fewer when his mother was alive. It.

"Barbara..."

"Yes, Tim?"

"I need. I need to believe he was a good man."

"There are any number of good men who are terrible fathers. Or who even have *moments* of being terrible."

"Everyone -- there are no true *manuals* for parenting."

"Not even one. Of course... *your* father probably wouldn't have read it even if there was one. He had better things to do."

"Barbara --"

"Things like trying to salvage the family fortune, trying to keep the company he built with your mother afloat, trying to save the jobs of his most loyal employees, trying to build a life with Dana, and, of course, grieving for your mother."

Tim swallows and gets up to put the ice cream away. And then he stands in front of the freezer until he can feel himself reddening from the cold --

Once, during No Man's Land, Bruce had pulled Tim close on the floor, and shoved his thigh between Tim's own, and breathed *hot* against the top of Tim's head until Tim stopped shivering and slept.

Dick did the same thing multiple times.

Barbara sometimes hums in her sleep --

And neither he nor Cassandra had actually *managed* to sleep the one night they'd shared blankets. The guilt for that had been --

Tim closes the freezer and moves back to the work-table -- and Barbara takes his hand and squeezes it. "He wasn't a bad man, Tim."

"No. No. And -- when compared to his own parents, he was like something off an eighties sitcom."

Barbara nods. "And that makes you think you should've tried harder? That you could've gotten somewhere?"

"I... I know I'm basically playing with relativism at this point. I know that he *wasn't* a sitcom character. I know that I am, for all intents and purposes, holding on to guilt because it's better than trying to sift through my memories -- I."

"And, of course, it's an excellent way to avoid actual *possible* intimacy," Barbara says, and smiles *gently*.

And that -- all right. "Dial, please."

"Lex...? Or Bruce?"

"I -- what *is* Dick doing right now?"

Barbara taps her sheath -

And the monitors fill with images of Dick doing one-handed push-ups -- while wearing boxer shorts designed to look like Troia's uniform.

Tim sighs. "You really should get him a pair of Oracle boxers."

"They don't exist, yet. And Oracle speedos are just a little too tacky."

"He'd wear them, though."

"That," Barbara says, and gestures, pulling the main two cameras into close-up mode, "is what I'm afraid of." Another gesture. "Man Wonder..."

"Oooh. I *thought* my skin might be crawling for a reason," Dick says, and looks up to beam at the cameras nearest his face. "What *can* I do for you?"

Barbara smiles. "Say hi to your little brother."

"You got him to *visit*? *Without* me?"

"*With* you may have been a little much," Tim says --

"See, no, that is *not* how you say hello, little brother," Dick says, and rolls to his feet, stretching the arm he'd been doing push-ups with behind his back and using the other to wag a finger at the cameras. "You say hi, with warmth, and affection, and *nudity*."

"Dick."

"Bear with me," Dick says, and pinches his nipples, which are already hard. "You see these?"

"Ah... exceedingly well?"

"*These* are happy to see you. To hear your voice. To know how you're doing. How are you doing?"

"I'm -- somewhat stressed-out --"

"He had abortive sex with Bruce --"

"*Ooh* -- but --"

"He had *less* abortive sex with Luthor."

"*Tim*!"

Tim winces. "Ah --"

Barbara hums. "He wanted you to know before the rumors started going around."

Well, that's... a kind of true -- "Dick, I --"

"Are you *okay*?"

"Ah. Ah..."

"The answer is no," Barbara stage whispers.

"Barbara --"

"Babs, how not okay are we talking about?"

"You could ask *me* --"

"Little brother, we *all* know that you're sitting there trying to come up with good-sounding lies."

Tim winces. "Ah -- right. I'm sorry --"

Dick holds up a hand and smiles ruefully. "I know you, remember? Also -- also, you've kinda been due for a serious breakdown of *some* kind."

"I -- did a great deal of crying --"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, Tim. You've been one of us for *years* now. You know how it works," Dick says, and his voice is gentle -- gently implacable.

"I... suppose I do."

Dick nods. "So, Babs?"

"He knows he's telling himself a lot of lies. He knows he's beating himself up for several *bad* reasons. He's also having a little -- or possibly huge -- identity crisis, and... Tim."

Tim sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Give him the visual, please."

"Man Wonder...?"

"It's really not fair that you keep making me *use* my computers, Babs."

"Even for good, little-brother-related causes...?"

"Even then," Dick says, and moves further into his loft, never going beyond the range of the cameras.

Tim had planted some of them himself --

And, by the time Dick is near his computer, both of his monitors are offering a view of the worktable they're sitting at and the two of them. Dick smiles broadly. "Your hair looks fantastic. Dinah was over?"

"Oh, yes. There are now enough tangles in my hair to offer *someone* OCD playtime."

Dick snickers and -- perches on his computer chair, spinning it around and around -- "I think I can *hear* Bruce's erection."

"That's just the sound of him breaking another chastity device with the power of his... enthusiasm," Barbara says. "But look at your little brother."

Dick spins himself one more time and focuses -- "You didn't get enough sleep."

"Ah -- no."

"You -- do I get to know what you *did* with Luthor?"

"Do you *want* to?"

"*Yes* -- wait. No. No, I don't," and Dick's expression is sour. "I need to know you *wanted* to --"

"I did."

"With -- how did he make it seem like a good *idea*?"

"He didn't. He -- made it seem necessary. *Feel* necessary."

"I -- necessary."

"Yes --"

"*Really*?"

Tim smiles ruefully. "Yes."

"And -- he's your *type*?"

Tim crosses his legs --

"And -- you just -- hunh," Dick says, and frowns.

Tim is *about* to ask -- but then he realizes *how* he'd crossed his legs. Oops. "Ah. Hi."

"Hello?"

"I'm. I'm not -- a boy. Always."

"Uh."

"I mean -- I mean that, actually."

Dick blinks. "Are you. I mean. And it's not just -- 'just' -- that you're sometimes *extra* gay?"

Tim snorts. "It isn't, no. Though I thought it was for a rather a while."

"Okay. I kind of -- I probably shouldn't have had to ask that. Damn. I'm sorry --"

"It's all right --"

"No, but --" Dick shakes his head. "And... this is why you haven't been balking at Bruce throwing all of those *interesting* undercover assignments at you?"

"Yes. Though I also just enjoy undercover work more and more as I get older --"

"Are you enjoying being undercover with Luthor?"

"Ah... yes and no? He is... I enjoy myself with him. Until I think about the number of lies I have to tell... and the number of lies he *isn't* telling."

"It serves him *right* --"

"Dick --"

"Oh, God, you're about to defend him. Ah. Um. Okay, we're not having that conversation right now," Dick says, and makes a *vigorous* pushing motion.

Tim winces and tugs at his jeans -- "Perhaps for the best."

"How -- how long have you known?"

"I... flirted with the knowledge for a long time. It would come to mind and I would think 'yes, that,' or 'oh, no,' or 'please, God, *no*,' or '*really*,' or some combination of those thoughts." Tim smiles ruefully. "I didn't start... ah... owning it until Bruce started dressing me up for the Mission."

"But... that long?"

And what Dick is *really* asking is 'why didn't you tell me?' Tim reaches out toward the camera --

Dick reaches toward his own --

"I thought... it was something I couldn't really speak about. I mean, I've only really just started... opening up about it."

"So... I know. And Babs knows. And *Bruce* knows -- God, Bruce probably knew from the *beginning*. Or -- did he?"

"He's been good enough not to mention it if he did."

"Because *you* still don't like people knowing -- *Steph* knows, right?"

"Yes. And I'm reasonably sure Cassandra would wonder why it's news."

"I'm the last one, little -- brother. Oh. That's *why* I'm the last one, isn't it?"

Tim laughs quietly. "I.. I entertained this fantasy of being... shocking. Being... exciting. I don't know. Certain things only make sense when I'm wandering around in a corset."

"Is *that* the kind of not-a-boy you're going to be?"

"Ah... maybe? I really like corsets, and Bruce is very good at finding flattering ones --"

"Well, you have an incredible body, Tim. It's just not that *hard* to make you look good."

"Thank you --"

"Wait. *Wait*."

Damn -- "Yes, Dick?"

"Luthor knows."

Tim winces.

"Luthor knew before *me*?"

"Dick --"

Dick *growls* --

"Man Wonder."

"I -- Babs, I'm allowed to be *pissed* about that!"

"Comfort levels aren't always very comfortable things," Barbara says --

"I *know* that --"

"Also, Tim wasn't planning to have *sex* with you."

"I'm allowed to be *really* pissed about that --"

"Ah, no, Dick, you're not," Tim says, and draws himself up to a certain extent. "I'm seventeen, not thirteen. My life is my own. My *body* is my own --"

"Your *body* belongs to the *Mission* --"

"When I choose to let it," Tim says, and frowns. "Dick... I love you. I always have. I've vastly enjoyed being your little brother, and a part of me -- most of me -- doesn't want that to change in the slightest. But... there are lies I can't tell myself anymore, and I don't want to tell them to anyone else, either."

"But *Luthor* --"

"Is someone I want in my life. Someone..." Tim closes his eyes -- but only for a moment. "As much as I can have him. As *long* as I can have him. I think. I think I probably need him to a certain extent -- "

"Tim --"

"And I don't need you in those ways, Dick -- "

"I need *you*, Tim --"

"Oh -- don't."

"Let me come see you tomorrow?"

"Of course --"

"And -- we can talk?"

"Yes. About -- about anything --"

"And you'll let me see you in clothes that don't make you feel like you're lying about anything?"

"I don't really -- I mean. Nearly all of my clothes are costumes. It's just that some of the costumes are less extreme than others, and -- I love you."

Dick smiles ruefully. "I love *you*, Tim. And -- maybe I can be a little weirded out that corsets and thigh-high leather boots with four-inch heels -- and *please* tell me Bruce didn't buy *those* for you -- count as 'less extreme?'"

"Dick, look what you wear every *night*!"

"Hey, there's no cleavage, at all, anymore!"

"There's also almost no *armor*."

"But it makes my ass look *very* good. You have to admit that."

Well -- "Dick, a *potato* sack would make your ass look good."

Dick -- glitters at him.

It's a warning Tim really can't *do* anything with -- but. "Dick..."

"But not good enough for you, Tim?"

Barbara clears her throat --

And Dick holds up a hand. "I need to know, Babs. I need... I can't think around all the wasted *time*."

"Dick, I wasn't ready for *anything*, then --"

"I would've taken it slow --"

"You never take *anything* slow!"

Dick hisses in a breath -- and nods. "You're right, I really don't. I can't help thinking I was too slow for *you*, though."

"You weren't --"

"Because you weren't ready. I -- am I too *young* for you?"

Tim blinks.

Barbara snorts, gets up, and walks away --

"Babs --"

"Barbara --"

"Hn. *I* told you to call Luthor first."

"*Babs* --"

Barbara looks at Dick.

Dick winces. "Okay, okay, I can behave. I just -- I get *obsessive* sometimes, and Tim is right *there*."

Barbara crosses her arms under her breasts and raises an eyebrow.

"Or I can... not behave?"

"I vote behave," Tim says. "And no, you're not too young for me. I'm just --"

"Not as attracted to me as you are to a *supervillain*?"

Dick, I think if you were to touch me the way you were touching me the other day --

I think if you were to look at me like that while we were in the same room --

I think --

Barbara cups Tim's shoulder and squeezes.

Tim closes his eyes and just -- drops his head a little.

"Oh -- damn. I'm increasing the stress, aren't I?"

"We all have been," Barbara says, and her voice is gentle again. "Let's *not* drive Tim into Luthor's arms."

"Is *that* what we've been doing? I -- I can do *better* --"

Tim holds up a hand. "It's not that simple," he says, and then looks up. "It's just... he lets me be cranky, and mean-spirited, and manipulative, and dishonest, and -- all of those other things that I'm usually not. And it starts making me want to be other ways entirely... and he wants those ways, too."

Dick bites his lip and nods, standing up on his chair and spinning it around again --

Again --

"Come to the 'haven for a few days?"

"I don't think that's the best idea --"

"Because you think I can't keep my hands to myself, little brother?"

"I --"

"You're absolutely right. I want you in my bed and I can't -- but I can. And I'm coming to see you," Dick says, stepping up on his console until the monitors fill with close-ups of his beautiful face --

His perfect face -- "I love you."

Dick grins. "I'll show you, little brother -- I mean. And I can stop saying that -- little sister? Little... sibling?"

Tim laughs quietly and covers Barbara's hand on his shoulder for the length of a squeeze --

She squeezes him more firmly --

"I'll always be your little brother, Dick. At least -- a part of me."

Dick parts his lips --

*Bites* his lip --

Barbara's hand *twitches* beneath Tim's own --

And then Dick flips back off his console, sticks his landing -- "I need to do more conditioning. Tomorrow, Tim?"

"Tomorrow."

"And -- where will you *be*?"

"The manor --"

"All right. All -- right. I love you both. Thank you, Babs. Please don't make me abuse my sac tonight -- my jock was too tight last night, and that was the kind of excitement Nightwing doesn't need."

"Hn. I'll think about appropriate punishments. For now... farewell," Barbara says, and the monitors switch back to views of the Cave. "Next?"

"I -- am going to talk to Bruce in person."

"Tonight?"

"Or tomorrow. Barbara..."

She releases Tim's shoulder and taps his chin -- and Tim realizes that he was staring at the floor.

Damn. "Sorry --"

"Tell me. Or... ask?"

"What should I do about Dick? I mean -- what would *you* do in my situation?"

"I..." Barbara points to Tim's chair.

Tim sits -- and Barbara smiles somewhat *reflexively* for his following orders. And then she sits on the table next to him and pulls herself into something like half lotus.

"I think you should decide what you want -- and you should absolutely think long-term. He's not the easiest man to *shake* once you let him in."

"I've noticed that --"

"And you've *deduced* that it's even more intense once you make love with him, yes?"

Tim frowns and nods. "You keep him at bay fairly well, though."

"'At bay.' Hn. We're terrible people," Barbara says, and runs her fingers through Tim's hair.

"Ah -- the thought had occurred."

"Mm-hm. Well -- one, I'm not going out there every night, and there's less than no reason for me to visit Blüdhaven. Two, I have other lovers -- other lovers Dick believes *deserve* my time. Three... he was never my brother. You'd have a more difficult time. You'd pretty much *have* to put your foot down *hard*."

"And early and often, yes, I see," Tim says, and crosses his legs again. "It feels -- I've been lying to him."

"And you've hit your threshold for lies you can comfortably tell, Tim?"

Tim frowns and considers -- "I... I think I might have, yes."

Barbara smiles gently and scratches Tim's scalp --

"My mother used to do that."

"Is it a good reminder or...?"

Tim smiles ruefully at her. "It makes me want to pull on every possible trace of formality I can manage and lie to everyone around me... but not in negative ways."

Barbara looks at him.

"Yes, I -- I recognize -- yes."

Barbara snorts. "So. Are you trying to figure out what to do about Dick --"

"Yes --"

"Or are you trying to come up with ways to minimize the damage for when you *do* sleep with him?"

"I -- hm."

"Hn."

"I -- don't think it's a good idea. I don't have your advantages."

"No, you don't. And when -- *when* -- you cancel on him in favor of spending time with Luthor..."

Tim winces. "Dear... God."

"Mm-hm."

"Yes, I -- I think I'll just wear two or three more layers of clothing."

Barbara smiles wryly. "You really were supposed to do say something along the lines of how you *wouldn't* cancel on Dick for Luthor."

Well -- fuck. But. "Lex is... I think it's time for me to call him."

Barbara adjusts Tim's headset with her right hand and touches the sheath with her left --

He really would like to know how she managed to calibrate them to accept one touch but not others --

The answer is probably something along the lines of 'she's Oracle.' And the phone is ringing.

Tim centers himself as best as he can --

"People with blocked numbers tend to irritate me. People who irritate me tend to do so for very, very brief periods of time."

Tim hums. "Sorry about that, Lex. I'm at Barbara's."

"And you're calling me... well. I'm already less irritated," Lex says, and there's a smile in his voice.

"'Less irritated?'"

"You're calling on my *cell*, darling. It's allergic to blocked numbers. I don't suppose you'd tell me...?"

"Mm... no. How are you? Other than irritated."

"Entirely pleased by the scent of my linens... and pleasantly curious as to when we'll be able to make it even more wonderful."

Tim makes a face. "Rather primitive, don't you think?"

Lex laughs softly. "I'm a caveman at heart. Please, allow me to use one of my clubs to escort you back to the dim fastnesses of my abode."

Tim snorts helplessly --

"You should be shot for making that sound attractive."

"Lex."

"I didn't say *what* you should be shot with."

"Oh -- even worse."

"Worse than *bullets*, darling...? I think we need to spend some more time working on your psyche."

Tim smiles and puts his feet up on the table. "I don't know, Lex. I'm considering doing more of that with my family."

"Did you *want* me to be jealous?"

Tim -- purrs.

"Tim..."

"Is there anything I can do about that, Lex...? Really."

"You could come home with me. I *promise* to make it worth your while."

"I don't know, Lex. I mean... I need a great deal of stimulation on a daily basis."

Barbara coughs -- and her headset won't pick up her voice right now. Of course --

"Stimulation...? I think I could manage that."

"Could you."

"How does your ass feel, darling?"

Tim -- is tempted to purr again. He doesn't. "Certain chairs have been a little too exciting for me today, but... all is well."

"Do you regret that, at all...?"

Oh -- "Yes."

And Barbara is *looking* at him --

And Lex is *silent* --

"Lex --"

"Come over, darling. Come over... and let me show you why you don't truly regret it. Please."

Well, there goes his penis. Maybe he can get Bruce to use even stronger elastic in his next several gaffs --

Maybe he can get a *grip* --

On *Lex* --

"Darling..."

"I'm thinking."

"Could I convince you to share your thoughts...?"

Tim laughs. "Barbara's right here, Lex."

"She's a grown woman. Or does she disapprove of what you've been doing...?"

"I definitely think she'd rather have me be making love to other people."

"Other *people*." Lex hums thoughtfully. "She's polyamorous."

Oops. "It's more that she knows that *I* am."

"Even though you were a virgin *exceedingly* recently...?"

Tim smiles at her. "She's one of the single most brilliant people I've ever met."

"Yes, that degree from Harvard Law she apparently picked up in her spare time is rather telling."

"You've been doing your research."

"Always, darling. Who does *she* want you to make love with...?"

"That's an excellent question," Tim says, and turns to Barbara with his eyebrow up. "Who should I be making love with, Barbara?"

Barbara shows her teeth --

Taps her sheath --

And the monitors fill with images of Kon --

Roy --

Bart --

*Cissie* --

Steph -- in her Spoiler uniform *and* her Robin uniform --

*Jason* --

"Ah. Barbara..."

Helena --

"I -- don't think I'm *old* enough --"

*Ives* --

"Barbara, I'm not actually -- I mean, I'm *human* --"

*Video* of Barbara as Batgirl switching her *hips* --

"How do you think I would look doing that --"

"Like an amateur," she says, and the images go faster --

Bruce-Dick-Connor-Cassandra-*Anissa* --

"Okay! Okay. I give. Ah. You... win?"

Barbara smiles *broadly* --

"You definitely win!"

"Darling, have you been *cowed*?"

"To a certain extent, yes, Lex," Tim says, and smiles ruefully. "Barbara remembers *everyone* I've ever mentioned *liking*."

"I would like -- very much -- for you to tell me your fantasies."

"It won't happen right now."

"But in the future...?"

Tim lets his smile get somewhat sharper. "Anything is possible."

"I've always thought so. Will you come over tonight?"

"I... I'm not sure, yet."

"More clubbing?"

There's only so much more he can do as an apparent *patron* of Club G -- as opposed to as a costumed interloper -- but... "Again, I'm not sure. I'm going to be talking to Bruce tonight."

"'Talking?'"

Tim snorts again. "Yes, Lex. *Talking*. Which is something I singularly failed to do after having sex with him."

"And Barbara knows about *that*? Interesting."

"Lex, she's one of my closest friends. I tell her everything, sooner or later."

Lex hums. "What kind of presents do you give each other?"

Tim blinks -- "Looking for ideas?"

"Looking for *you*, darling. Absolutely everywhere," Lex says, and there's something in his voice...

Tim frowns. "Lex... we never did really speak about what was wrong with you last night."

"I'm in love with a seventeen-year-old boy who doesn't even have the good grace to be in love with me. Occasionally -- just occasionally -- that causes my usual effervescence to flatten."

That -- "Lex."

"No...? How's this, then: You're not *here*."

"*Lex*."

"What will it take, do you think?"

"For...?"

"For you to understand *fully* how I feel about you."

"I..." Tim's heart is beating too fast -- "You make. You do an excellent job of ruining my equilibrium."

Lex takes a breath. "Good. Please come over."

"I. I think I would like to have you in my bed," Tim says --

And Lex is silent --

And Barbara is staring at him --

And Tim covers his face with his hands. "Ah -- forget I said that, please."

"That... that's rather *exceedingly* unlikely, darling."

"Lex --"

"It's -- I would. It's only that I would *have* to bring Hope with me, as I'm reasonably sure that Alfred Pennyworth regrets not poisoning me when I was a teenager --"

Tim coughs. "Lex --"

"You can have what you want, darling."

"I can't --"

"You *can*. *Let* me prove it to you. Please."

"I'm not even sure it would *work*, Lex! I mean -- the stress levels --"

"You've shared a bed with people before --"

"Yes. Yes. In -- ah. In *their* homes --"

"The manor *is* your home. Tim... let me make you comfortable there. Let me give you my scent. Let me massage your beautiful little body. Let me bite you all over until  --"

"*Lex* --"

"Your pleasure, Tim. Your pleasure... and my own. You may find yourself more comfortable in the manor than you've ever been... and that would be a gift for Bruce."

"I -- you want me to believe that you want to give Bruce a gift."

"I want you to believe that there simply aren't many things I *wouldn't* do for you... including making the people you do love happy."

"Love -- ah."

"Darling. Please don't deny that you love Bruce. My intellect dips dramatically around you, but it's not *that* bad."

Tim laughs -- and moves his hands. "So it isn't. I'll -- think about it."

"Give us tonight in *some* way, darling."

Tim licks his lips and traces idle patterns on the work table -- wait. He checks, and they *are*, in fact, just arcs and loops. Nothing incriminating --

"I promise --"

"Lex."

"Yes?"

"*I* promise that I'll be thinking of you. Even if we don't manage to find each other tonight."

"Tim... you can have what you want."

"Some of it --"

"*All* of it. Don't -- please don't ever deny yourself possibility."

All right, *now* he's tracing stylized R's -- and that can stop immediately. "Lex --"

"'It's not that simple.' Correct?"

"In a nutshell --"

"Let me *make* it simple for you, darling. There is *nothing* you can tell me..." Lex swallows. "You know who I've been, Tim."

"Oh, yes --"

"You know what I'm capable of."

"Again --"

"What possible reason would I have to judge you? For *anything*?" And the passion in Lex's voice --

The *need* --

And Barbara is shaking her head *sadly*. She -- is absolutely correct.

Tim smiles ruefully. "Lex..."

"Tim," and Lex sounds -- not resigned. *Viciously* calm.

Tim licks his lips and just -- "I'm coming over."

Lex laughs. "To shut me up about your secrets?"

"Here's hoping it works."

"Oh... it absolutely will. And you're not spending the night, are you."

"No. I do need to speak to Bruce --"

"In the middle of the night?"

"When has his schedule *ever* been sane?"

Lex laughs again. "You're absolutely correct. When, darling. When will you be here?"

Tim turns to Barbara and raises an eyebrow -- no, wait, she's *not* supposed to be listening. "How long before you need to kick me out, Barbara?"

Barbara smiles ruefully. "Call it between an hour and ninety minutes."

Tim nods. "I'll be there in ninety minutes to two hours."

Lex sighs. "All right, darling. I'll be... patient. Just so you know..."

"Yes, Lex?"

"I have presents for you. You can begin training me to give you the *right* things."

"Oh -- Lex --"

"The only gift I want from you is your secrets."

"*Lex* --"

"And I can be patient, indeed."

"You'll -- be disappointed."

"I doubt that very, very highly, darling. And I've learned to trust my instincts. Please... hurry."

Tim catches himself licking his *teeth* --

No, he's fine, he's *fine* --

"I -- I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right, darling. Until then... you have my love."

Don't fucking *moan* -- "You have my affection."

"Excellent. Farewell," and Lex hangs up.

Barbara hangs up *for* him --

Tim takes the headset off and puts his face back in his hands. Just -- he can stay like this for a little while, can't he?

Yes?

"Tim."

No. No, he can't. Tim looks up and smiles ruefully.

"Even listening to him last night..." Barbara sighs and smiles ruefully. "He has an *effect*, doesn't he."

"Very much so."

"And... I can't even say I don't believe him. Not with any part of me but my knowledge of *history*."

Tim laughs somewhat painfully. "There is that, yes."

"Tim... how do you feel about him."

"I want him. I want -- I want him. And he --" Tim swallows. "I'd like to try to have a relationship with him."

"Meaning it's more than just 'want.'"

"Barbara --"

"I could tell *that* as soon as I saw your face when he started talking."

"Then --"

"I needed to see how hard you would fight it," Barbara says, and smiles wryly. "*Don't* fight it."

"Ah -- what?"

"You *can't* have him, Tim. Not in any kind of *real* way. Not without outing *all* of us."

"I *know* that --"

"But you also can't pretend that you don't care about him *exactly* as much as you do," and Barbara raises an eyebrow.

"If I do that... I'm in danger of sabotaging myself. Or just... letting myself get taken over by my emotions."

"Exactly."

Fuck. "I..."

"Yes, Tim?"

"Fuck."

Barbara snorts -- not unkindly. "It happens, Tim."

"So it does."

"Look at it this way: at least neither of you can get pregnant."

*Tim* snorts -- and then thinks about it.

"Oh, no, Tim --"

"I... don't *think* he'd clone me?"

Barbara snickers and smacks him lightly. "Don't *encourage* him!"

"Difficult, considering how attractive he finds my bitchiness. I suppose I could try boring him. Bruce did suggest just that."

"Are you capable of that?"

"I... want to say yes."

"But that's just your problematic self-esteem talking, yes, I see," Barbara says, and moves off the table. "Let's get your new toys -- oh, hm. Let's do that *quickly*, so you can take your new toys *home*."

"Noted."

The new toys include a palm-top with the kind of power that just wasn't *possible* in *desktop* computers two years ago. It comes complete with a few blisteringly illegal programs Barbara had been working on in her spare time, and the ability to interface with nearly *anything* -- thanks to the addition of Kryptonian tech --

"Try not to let it colonize anything, Tim."

"I -- hm. No promises."

"Hn. That *is* exactly what I told Clark, so... have fun."

There's also a new necklace with better pick-up and filtering for the mic -- and a filled circle.

"How long have you had this for me...?"

"Hn. Hn. I had it made when Dick started talking about you while we were making love... and Bruce started making you underwear on a regular basis."

Tim chokes -- and puts the necklace on.

After that, Barbara has him strip down to his gaff and fight shadows in the playroom until she has an idea of his baseline skills and improvements --

And then there are more hugs --

And then Barbara smiles deeply into Tim's eyes and kisses him softly, warmly, and *chastely*. It --

He kisses her back --

She pinches his ass --

"Barbara --"

She *slaps* his ass --

Tim snorts and twists away. "Yes, I suppose it *is* time for me to go. I..." Tim squeezes her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come back *sooner*."

Tim inclines his head. "As you say."

"Every time I run interference with Bruce for you...?"

Tim *coughs* -- "Ah. Hopefully I won't... need... right, yes, every time."

Barbara grins.

Tim salutes her and goes.

Traffic is terrible enough --

Yes, he'll call Lex again from the manor. There's no way in hell he's bringing the palm-top with him to the Chilton. Still, it takes nearly forty minutes to get back to Bristol, and Tim is --

Impatient. Deeply impatient. He doesn't let himself cut corners, though. The palm-top goes down to the Cave --

Where Bruce and Steph are -- kissing.

Definitely --

She has her gauntleted hands on his cheeks and the cowl.

He's holding her left hip through the shorts and tights and cupping the back of her head --

They both know he's here. They both -- well, then.

Tim goes to his uniforms and tucks the new palm-top away... and then moves to his disguise closet. There's no reason not to bring something to change into for Lex --

"Um."

"Yes, Steph?" Tim flips through the corsets -- oh, a new leather one that's been dyed a color usually seen on painfully erect penises. Yes, that --

"Uh..."

"I'm not angry," Tim says, and chooses the matching spanky pants.

"I didn't think you were --"

"I'm -- surprised."

"That's totally. That's fair," Steph says. "Gold boots."

"Hm. You think so?"

"Contrast is your friend and mine, personfriend."

"Fingerless gloves?"

"So fucking queer -- yes."

"All right, then --"

"Are you clubbing?"

Well... Tim smiles ruefully. "I'm going to see Lex."

"You're dressing up for him."

"When I get there, yes."

"You're -- for *him*?"

"Yes," Tim says, standing and turning to look her in the eye. She hasn't fixed her lipstick. She --

She's frowning at him.

"It's okay --"

"Is it? I mean -- you're not going to see him *because* --"

"No! No. I'd decided to go see him while I was at Barbara's --"

"And, okay, *lame* of you to go running to her instead of having *dinner* with us --"

"I wasn't ready to look Bruce in the eye."

"Are you ready *now*?"

Tim smiles ruefully. "Yes. I have... questions. Though more for you than for him."

Steph frowns for that, and it's still strange to see her wearing a Robin domino, white-out lenses hiding her eyes. Beautiful, though.

Tim reaches to stroke the under curve of her domino. "I always knew he'd fall for you, given anything like a chance to do so."

"Fall -- he just *wants* a piece."

"Steph."

"Don't *Steph* me --"

Tim raises an eyebrow.

"Don't *eyebrow* me, either! I mean, okay, so he does get crazy emotional and serious and -- oh, shit."

Tim hums and checks --

Bruce is standing near the console staring at both of them with his cowl back and his fists clenched -- yes, that's about right.

Tim takes Steph's hand and squeezes. "You're welcome to run away with me whenever the crushing weight of his eternal hunger --"

"Stoppit stoppit --"

"Hn --"

She smacks him. "No laughing like freaking *Barbara*!"

Tim coughs and bites his lip. "Sorry...?"

"You are *not*," she says, taking her hand back, frowning, and crossing her arms under her breasts.

"That particular pout --"

"What about it?"

"It tends to make me think of making out with you."

"Think of like you *want* to, or think of like you want to *analyze* it?"

"Ah -- both, actually."

Steph snorts and shoves him. "Jerk. Ask your questions!"

"Well... all right. *Why*?"

"He's hot. Just -- you know that."

"I'd picked that up. I thought *you* hadn't --"

"He looks like a *dumbass* -- except when he doesn't," Steph says, and sighs, resting her hands on her hips and tapping her booted foot. "His eyes have changed."

"Yes."

"They -- he can see me now. All the time, I think. I wasn't there for him before."

Tim nods. "He was doing everything he could to make it hard for him to see you."

"Yeah. Because of Jason."

Tim blinks and -- copes. "He spoke about Jason?"

Steph bites her lip.

"You -- I'm not angry --"

"Yeah, but *should* you be?"

"I --" Tim forces himself to stop, to *think* -- "He gave Jason to me only as... an object lesson. He told me about the injuries he died with. He told me about his occasional bouts of... inappropriate violence. He told me --" Tim swallows. "Everything good I know about him comes from other people --"

"I'm sorry," Bruce says, from right *there* --

Steph punches him --

"I'm -- sorry for that, as well. Please. I'll tell you everything I can. Both of you."

Tim -- takes a breath.

"Uh, Spooky."

"Yes, Stephanie?"

"Do you wanna tell us everything now because you wanna *tell* us, or because you wanna *bone* us?"

Tim *snorts* --

And Bruce is studying him. Bruce is -- drinking him in.

Tim raises a hand --

And Bruce nods and turns back to Steph. "Barbara, Dick, and Clark have taught me much about communicating. About the pleasure and *necessity* of communicating." He smiles ruefully. "In truth, Jason taught me the same lessons years ago. I... I buried them with his body. For that, he would've done his best to run me over with his bike, I believe --"

"Yeah, well, you *deserve* it. Asshole."

"As you say, Stephanie," and now Bruce is drinking *her* in --

And Steph shivers and splays her hand on the bat -- and pushes Bruce back. "Gimme a few more minutes alone with my personfriend?"

"Of course," and Bruce looks to him --

"We'll speak."

"Thank you," and Bruce moves back to the console. This time, he sits down and begins to type.

"So -- personfriend."

"Yes?"

Steph cocks her head to the side much like Cassandra, though the wry twist to her expression is all her. She --

"I love you."

"Aw, I -- I love you, too. *Always*."

Tim smiles and twines their fingers together. "Always."

"Uh, huh. When did *you* realize that Robin gets to run over Batman pretty much whenever he -- or she -- wants?"

"I had suspicions early on, but Bruce always managed to throw up protective coloration before I could confirm it. I knew it for sure after my sixteenth birthday. He'd planned for me to tell him off, planned for me to leave him for a time, planned for me to come *back*..." Tim shakes his head and smiles. "He told me one night perhaps a week after that -- while we were in the car traveling fast enough that it would've been suicidal for me to jump out --"

Steph snorts --

"Yes, *prepare* for that sort of thing."

"Uh, huh. What'd he say?"

"He said that we had made mistakes. That *he* had made mistakes. He said..."

("Robin. We were... we were always supposed to be partners. I've done little to earn your trust, however -- much less your partnership. We must, if we are to be who Gotham needs us to be, begin again.")

"He *told* me that we had to begin again, Steph, to -- start over as people who trusted each other. But... well. I could hear him. I could practically *feel* him, Steph, and..." Tim smiles. "He was asking. And, beneath that, he was *begging*."

"So you ran over him?"

"Gently. I told him I would give the matter some thought..."

("As you say.")

"And then I told him to drop me off near one of the satellite garages. And then... I gave it a try. I spoke to him as if I expected to be treated as an equal, and he did so. And he was apologizing with every word."

Steph bites her lip and nods. "And -- sometimes he just played with you? All... with the little jokes and the actual laughter?"

"With time, yes. But I always had to start it for the first few months... and then. And then my father learned the secret."

Steph winces. "So right when it was getting good -- wham."

Tim nods. "Exactly. I was -- I was so happy you went to him, Steph. I knew he wouldn't screw up again."

"Am I allowed to apologize for running over *you*?"

("How can you quit? How fucking *dare* you?")

Tim shows his teeth a little. "Did you want to take anything you said back?"

"Um..."

"Or are you just feeling guilty because I only had a few more months with him after that?"

"Uh..."

Tim strokes her cheek. "It's all right. One of the reasons why I love you is that I know -- with all of myself -- that you will always stand up for what you believe in. No matter what."

Steph winces again --

"Steph --"

"No, I -- I mean, you *have* to know that some of why I was pissed at you was just jealousy. I mean -- you *know* that, right?"

Tim blinks.

"Yeah, *think* about it, Person Wonder. Nobody was living your life but you. Nobody could see all the ways it *sucked* but you. Okay?"

"Steph. Are you happy?"

"I'm fucking *thrilled*. All the *time*. And -- I think I'm gonna bone Bruce."

"All right --"

"But I can still see why it was fucked-up for you. I mean, he's *also* been telling me all the crap he put you through, you know? As part of the whole -- 'I'm older and wiser now, Stephanie' thing he's got going on. I -- uh." She punches him lightly.

"Yes?"

"We could maybe hit that together sometime."

Tim stares.

"You are so damned cute. No pressure! Just, you know, think about it."

"I. Together."

"Think about it some *other* time. Patrol equals now!"

"Yes, of course, I -- but tell me why?"

"Oh -- right. He can see me -- and he *wants* to see me. I can see him -- and I want to see him. He's funny, and he's warm, and I really want to hug him."

"All right --"

"With my lady parts."

Tim coughs. "He... doesn't look like a dumbass anymore?"

"I can see why you went right back to him, Tim. Even after everything he did to you, because... that guy was always under the surface, yeah?"

"I -- yes."

Steph nods again --

Bites her lip again --

"I -- fix my lipstick?"

"Of course," Tim says, and tugs the tube out of her seven o'clock belt pocket. It necessitates moving close to her --

Breathing in her soap and product --

"I love you," and he applies her lipstick as slowly as he wants to, as carefully and -- "Together?"

"It would... um. Help me not freak."

Tim blinks.

"No pressure! I never said *when* I want to do him, okay?"

Tim licks his lips --

"Wear my plum lipstick tonight."

"It's not really my color --"

"It'd look *fantastic* with the corset. What's the you-word for it?"

"Ah -- exclamatory?"

"Hell, yeah," she says, and kisses him softly. "Tell me to kick ass."

"Kick absolutely terrifying amounts of ass."

"Nice," she says, and smiles like Robin as she backs one step away --

Two --

And then she giggles and runs for her bike. She has four to Tim's seven, and they tend to be packed with fewer explosives and more batarangs --

She's Robin, and Tim... doesn't have to be.

If he doesn't want to.

Tim packs the corset, spanky pants, fingerless gloves, and boots away. The gaff he's wearing is black, so that's sufficient. The makeup --

He adds Steph's plum to his usual case and packs that, too.

And then Bruce is looking at him --

Into him --

Tim throws the pack over his shoulders and moves to the console, jumping up on it and crossing his legs. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing --"

Tim holds up a hand.

"Tim."

Tim raises an eyebrow.

Bruce hums. "I will not interrupt."

For that... Tim covers Bruce's hand with one of his own. "I do love you."

Bruce closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I don't blame you for wanting Steph."

Bruce nods and keeps his eyes closed.

"She wants a threesome. With us, I mean."

Bruce shivers -- and opens his eyes. "What do you want of me?"

"More. Of this, of..." Tim shakes his head. "I'm sorry I ran away earlier. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you -- both of us -- more, last night."

Bruce lifts Tim's hand to his mouth and never looks away from Tim's eyes as he kisses the knuckles.

"That must've been -- what was it like to do that with Jason?"

Bruce smiles. "Peaceful... as it was something I could only get away with when he was deeply asleep."

Tim catches his breath -- "Bruce."

"I'll tell you -- please ask more questions."

"I -- I will. I have to call Lex."

"You're... late?"

Tim smiles. "Not quite yet, but I will be. Bruce... I think I can... I think I can do better next time."

"With Stephanie as well?"

"That... she said it would help her... stay calm. I think she may be on to something."

Bruce closes his eyes and nuzzles Tim's palm --

"Oh. Bruce..."

"Your hands were the first part of you which showed your hard work. Your *dedication*. Will you let him..."

Tim waits, but Bruce doesn't seem inclined to continue. He shifts closer. "Ah. Yes?"

Bruce shakes his head and kisses Tim's fingertips. "You must not limit yourself."

"I *have* to limit myself --"

"Take your joy of him, Tim."

"*Bruce* --"

"Take your joy... and tell yourself, if you must, that it's what he wants you to do."

Tim shivers. "It is. It is what he wants."

"He loves you."

"Yes, I -- I don't know how that *happened*."

"It took me weeks. It took Stephanie, who saw you clearly always, a matter of hours."

And Tim *wants* to argue that, but --

But.

An hour of time together here, another two there, the length of a short patrol *there* --

And Bruce is waiting for him to understand, to believe --

"Bruce, I..." Tim shakes his head and leans in --

"Tim, are you sure --"

"Please," Tim says, and kisses Bruce softly once, again, again --

And then Bruce is cupping his head, gauntlet *pulling* Tim's hair --

And Bruce is kissing him *carefully*, holding him *gently* --

"*Please* -- *mm* --"

And this is the kiss he was giving Steph, this --

It *must* be, because it's contained and containing, promising and *wet* --

Tim moans and scrabbles for Bruce's other hand --

*Yanks* it to his hip --

Bruce groans and clutches him --

*Lifts* him --

And now Bruce is standing and Tim has his legs wrapped around his waist --

Bruce is making love to his *mouth* --

Tim catches Bruce's tongue and nibbles it --

Bruce *grunts* -- and pulls back.

"Wait --"

Bruce leans in and *bites* Tim's throat --

"Oh -- *fuck* -- ah. Ah. All right, not kissing right now is a good... idea -- *hnh* --"

Bruce *sucks* a kiss --

Another --

*Another* --

And Tim can either end this or -- keep Bruce from a patrol Gotham *needs*. Right. *He's* benched -- no on else. "Stop."

Bruce pulls back immediately. "Should I put you down?"

"No. I mean -- yes, but -- I'm not stopping you because I'm freaking out."

Bruce licks his lips and studies him -- and nods. "There is the work."

Tim smiles ruefully and hops down. "Gotham needs a Batman."

"It occurred to me..."

"Yes, Bruce?"

"He may choose to stop following you if you agree to see him regularly while also being as close to honest as possible about who *else* you choose to see."

"I... I think I have to chase him back to Metropolis. Once the various crime families are gunning for him, he'll need to use all of his employees for defense."

"He may still choose to keep you under surveillance, Tim. If you haven't... satisfied him."

"I don't think I *can* satisfy him without following him to Metropolis --"

"Please don't."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "It wasn't in my plans, Bruce."

Bruce strokes Tim's cheek, and the gauntlet is cold and slick --

Familiar in the *wrong* ways -- Tim catches Bruce's hand and tugs it away. "Not that."

"I'm sorry --"

"No, it's --" Tim waves a hand. "It reminds me too much of how you were with me when I was in training."

"Then I'm even more sorry --"

"Just -- keep proving it? I think that's the best way to handle the matter," Tim says, and smiles ruefully.

"I wish. I wish to pleasure you always."

Tim reaches up to touch Bruce's mouth. "You've been making me very happy."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, and -- well.

He has a point. "Sometimes parts of me are extremely happy even while other parts are curled into fetal positions and screaming."

Bruce hums -- and kisses Tim's fingertips again. "I would take your screams."

"Including the bad ones, yes, I know -- I feel the same."

Bruce kisses Tim's palm, Tim's fingertips, Tim's *wrist* --

"Bruce..."

"I love you. And we may have anything you wish."

Tim strokes Bruce's mouth -- "I'll keep that in mind. Tell me..." Tim strokes Bruce's jaw -- and catches himself before he can step close and lean in once more. He drops his hand. "Tell me about Steph?"

"She is beautiful, and wise, and bright. She is dedicated, and strong, and loving. She is unstinting. She is... oak."

Tim considers... and raises an eyebrow. "I'm willow?"

Bruce smiles. "You always have been. I trust you to always know how far to bend."

"Sometimes... I want to bend very, very far, Bruce."

Bruce takes a breath -- and starts to remove his gauntlet --

"No, don't --"

"Tim --"

"That will get... far too involved," Tim says, and smiles ruefully. "Especially since it occurs to me that I've never actually sucked your fingers --"

Bruce *grunts* --

And Tim winces. "I'm sorry --"

"No," Bruce says, and smiles. "You've given me... something very pleasant to hope for."

"Ah... perhaps don't wash your hands after you take off your gauntlets tonight? Not... right away."

Bruce's eyes -- burn. And he nods.

Tim licks his lips. "Well... I'm going to make that phone call, and then I'm going to leave --"

"Come back."

Tim smiles and rests a hand on the bat. "Always, in one form or another."

Bruce raises an eyebrow.

"Ask Barbara," Tim says, adjusting his pack and jogging for the stairs.

He dials once he's in the study --

"Now who, I wonder, could be calling me from this number."

"Just the person who's running *extremely* late. Sorry, Lex."

"Late is eminently forgivable. Are you leaving soon?"

"Oh, yes. And I have something... well."

"Tim. Did you go back to the manor just to get something for me?"

Tim smiles. "Not *just* for that... and it's for both of us."

"Amazingly enough, I vastly enjoy the sound of that."

"Mm. I'll see you soon."

"I'll be ready for you."

"That sounds like a --"

"Promise, darling. *Always*."

Tim hums. "All right. Farewell."

"And to you."

Alfred doesn't appear between the study and the garage, but Tim knows it's only a matter of time before there's a reckoning. There's only so much Alfred will *take* from a teenager living in the manor, and dating Lex Luthor --

Dating *Lex* --

Tim sighs and rides, itching to change, to move, to *hit* someone --

Well, maybe tonight will be the night when Mercy tries to murder him. One never knows.

It takes *nearly* half an hour to make it to the Chilton, but that's better than it could be --

And Tim doesn't even have to give his name to the clerk before there's a key in his hand. It's an interesting question. Gotham's tourist attractions are mainly ghoulish in nature. As such, the hospitality industry really shouldn't *be* as high in quality as it is. Gotham has any number of -- insanely stubborn when not simply insane -- wealthy citizens, but those citizens tend to go *elsewhere* for their weddings and family gatherings. It takes a special sort of person to *want* to come to Gotham, and yet hotels like the Chilton run firmly in the black... while the hotels which try to capitalize on all of the ghoulishness tend to have assorted horrible things happen to, in, or near them just before they close their doors forever.

Call it the persistence of luxury, perhaps. Or perhaps the desire for comforting sameness in the face of the wild, wooly, and unpredictable. Or -- something.

And thoughts like that are more than enough reason for Tim to be humming to himself as he steps out of the elevator --

And close enough to Lex for a kiss.

"Darling," Lex breathes against his mouth as he strokes Tim's hair --

As he unbuttons the first two -- and only the first two -- buttons of Tim's shirt --

As he *presses* on Tim's suprasternal notch --

Tim growls --

And Lex kisses him, sucking hard on Tim's upper lip and then the lower --

Slipping his tongue *deep* --

God, *yes* --

Pressing *harder* --

Tim moans and sucks Lex's tongue, strokes Lex's chest through his -- lavender -- shirt --

And pushes.

"Yes, darling?"

"I -- bedroom."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "No drink? Conversation? Exchange of presents?"

Tim closes his eyes and smiles --

"Please let me see your eyes."

Tim opens them again. "I apologize for being precipitous... but I don't think I'm going to be thinking clearly until your penis is in my mouth."

"You make an *excellent* point -- did you eat?"

"With Barbara, yes."

"All right," and Lex turns and walks toward the bedrooms.

Tim walks behind him, mainly to watch the *subtle* interplay of muscles under Lex's perfectly-tailored clothing --

"You're not going to develop heat vision suddenly, are you...?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I'll let you know."

Lex hums and turns to face him, walking backwards --

"Yes?"

"Seeing you in a backpack... is somewhat disconcerting."

"I will, theoretically, be returning to school in the fall."

"'Theoretically?''

"I've considered placing out and joining Wayne Enterprises."

"After giving DI to Lucius Fox, yes. I..." Lex frowns and stops in the hall.

"Please don't do that."

"Darling..."

"Yes?"

"When you're this impatient, you tempt me to tie you to something."

Tim makes a face.

"No...?"

"Not right now."

"There's something to be said for denial *at* times like these, darling."

"Still no, Lex."

Lex inclines his head and starts walking again. "Remind me to ask you for more detail about your plans to join WE."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "You don't think you'll remember without any prompting?"

"I think you're going to distract me... and it would be a shame to forget *these* questions."

"Oh, good. Trepidation. Just what I need before my very first blowjob."

"Did you speak to Bruce?"

"Oh, yes, and... I'm going to make love to him again."

Lex narrows his eyes and pauses near the bed.

Tim hums and sets his backpack down against the wall before starting to strip. Boots first, then socks, then jeans --

"Does he deserve you, darling?"

"Sometimes very much."

"And that's enough for you?"

Tim unbuttons his perfectly boring black shirt the rest of the way and shrugs it off --

"Wait, please."

Tim raises an eyebrow and brings his wrists behind his back, letting the shirt dangle from them.

"Yes, you *could* control me utterly while chained to something -- thank you, that was all I needed to know."

Tim laughs and takes the shirt the rest of the way off, leaving it neatly over the back of a chair. Naked except for the gaff, he feels...

He feels.

"Lex."

"Yes, darling?"

"I'll never be involved with only one person. Not without some sort of disaster."

Lex blinks.

"Yes, you did *that* much for me last night. Barbara, Cassandra, Steph, and Dick did even more today."

"But not Bruce?"

"Bruce's patience has been extremely helpful, yes. Strip for me?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer the aesthetic of me being mostly dressed...?"

Tim narrows his eyes and growls -- and then considers.

"The choice is yours, darling."

Tim... breathes. Just -- "I may still need -- to be talked down."

"That's yours, as well."

"I'd like -- sit down, Lex. At the foot of the bed."

Lex does it immediately -- and spreads his legs.

Tim growls again and scratches at his own abdominal hair.

"You're a perfect little predator, aren't you."

I'm *Robin* -- "At times, yes," Tim says, and smiles sharply. "You've helped me with that, too."

Lex grips himself through his pants and squeezes --

"Stop that."

"Tim."

"*Now*."

"I'm afraid I can't let you dominate me. Control is something else, entirely."

Tim lifts his chin and considers. "All right. Move your hand... or I won't let you fuck me again."

Lex grins -- and moves his hand. "Is Bruce your insurance, darling...?"

"Insurance is one of the most rational things in the world... but no. I think I'm going to make love with Dick the next time he offers, though," Tim says, and closes the distance between them.

"I'm going to be jealous if you give your family *all* of your time, darling."

Tim leans in and licks Lex's mouth --

"Oh -- yes?"

He does it again --

He sucks Lex's lower lip --

He *bites* Lex's lower lip and licks a stripe over his cheek to his ear --

"Just as an aside, please don't lick or otherwise molest my scalp."

Tim sighs into Lex's ear. "Spoilsport."

Lex laughs -- and rubs Tim's nipples with his thumbs --

"Ohn --"

"Oh... good to know. Clamps?"

"I've never tried," Tim says, and moves Lex's hands before pulling back. "Don't distract me."

"All right. Have you ever rouged them?"

Tim smiles. "Yes. Once. Bruce looked like he was going to fuck me *through* my clothes. And his own."

"But you weren't ready for him then."

Tim shakes his head and drops to his knees as gracefully as he can --

And Lex twitches in his pants. He -

Tim licks his lips. "I suppose I could pretend to be your naughty secretary."

"I'm afraid Prudence would firebomb the manor for that."

Tim snorts --

"But I do like the idea of role-playing."

"Yes...?"

"It would be tragic to bore you, darling."

"Oh... I'll let you know if you're in danger of that," Tim says, and leans in to nuzzle Lex's penis through his pants --

The scent is so *mild* --

Tim strokes Lex's thighs and nuzzles harder, moans and nibbles --

"Tim..."

"Give me another moment or two," Tim says, and *drags* his mouth along Lex's shaft --

And Lex twitches again --

Again --

Tim smiles and catches Lex's zipper between his teeth --

"Yes...?"

Tim waves a hand and attempts it -- it starts to catch immediately. Tim lets go. "Some other time," he says, and unzips Lex's pants the more reasonable way --

"How did your brother convince you?"

"Mainly by being *extremely* obvious about wanting me. Mainly."

"You could have the world at your feet, darling..."

Tim hums and drags the bridge of his nose along Lex's shaft through his boxer-briefs. "Perhaps."

Lex sighs. "No 'perhaps' about it. You're beautiful, young, and fascinatingly kinked. You're going to have an *extremely* full dance card if you keep letting other people's desires dictate your actions."

"To be fair..."

"Yes?"

"Oh, a wet spot --"

"Funny -- how that works. Oh... Tim."

"Mm?"

Lex laughs softly and strokes Tim's hair. "That's wonderful."

Tim nods and sucks harder --

"You are... well. If you're not enjoying the taste of cotton, there's something you can do about it."

Tim hums a laugh --

"Fuck. Do... whatever you like. Please."

"Mm-hmm..." And Tim pulls back and licks his lips. "I'm already salivating."

"Yes?"

"Somehow... somehow, I thought I'd have a little more control," and Tim smiles ruefully and meets Lex's eyes.

"I could say something here about gland stimulation," Lex says, and strokes Tim's cheekbones.

"True, but... no. I'm drooling for you. I want you... badly."

"Perhaps you've noticed that I feel the same...?"

Tim hums. "Yes, but you're *allowed* to lose control."

Lex laughs and taps Tim's mouth -- "So are you. I promise."

Tim hums *noncommittally*. "Are they swollen, yet?"

"Slightly, yes. Beautifully."

"I've wanted him since I was pubescent."

"Your brother."

"Yes."

"You didn't *know* him when you were pubescent."

Oh -- but. "I did, but only from the parties. He doesn't remember me from them at all, but, well, I don't remember very many one-year-olds from that time, either."

Lex sighs. "You've only been pubescent for six years. That -- is perfectly reasonable. And horrifying."

Tim shows his teeth --

Drags them against Lex's fingertips --

*Nips* Lex's fingertips -- and pulls back. "Pull yourself out for me...?"

"Through the slit or over the waistband?"

Tim considers -- the slit would be more of a tease. "Slit."

"All right," and Lex does it --

And he's hard, of course. Somewhat dark with blood. *Thick* --

Tim licks his lips and stares --

Studies --

"Shall I keep holding it for you?"

"For now," Tim says, leaning in to lick away the pre-come --

Lex pants, though, and that -- is worth a reward. Tim sucks the head and hums --

*Loudly* --

Lex moans, low and shameless. "Darling..."

"Mm-hmm..."

"How *much* are you enjoying the feel of my cock in your mouth?"

"Mmm..."

Lex grins. "Good to know. I'd like to fuck you blind, darling -- oh."

"Sorry about that, Lex, but... ah. Will you be able to...? Assuming I get you off."

"I've been positively celibate today, so... yes. Absolutely."

Tim smiles helplessly. "Good. Please move your hand."

"Of course -- ah. I assure you that I won't try to get *away*, darling."

"There's something about your penis which makes me *want* to grip, Lex. But if it's too hard...?"

"No, it was just surprising. No harder than *that*, though."

Tim nods and licks the underside of Lex's penis --

Again --

And he's leaking again. That -- mm. Tim bends Lex toward himself and *slurps* away the pre-come --

And Lex is panting again. Gripping the bed, and -- yes.

Tim turns Lex's penis to the right and sucks at the foreskin, tugging it away from the shaft --

Lex grunts. "Tim. Remind me to do this with you *daily*."

Tim hums a laugh and kisses the length of Lex --

*Again* --

Tugs with his teeth --

Another grunt -- "No, Tim."

Tim releases Lex and licks and kisses to soothe -- and just to do it.

"Mm, I -- please don't make me use that word with you often. It's obscene."

"This isn't?"

"This -- is beautiful in every way. Have you decided on a fantasy...? I have suggestions..."

"I haven't decided if I *want* a fantasy, Lex. But... suggestions?"

"I could be... oh... the supervillain who's taken the intrepid young hero hostage --"

Tim snorts and coughs. "Ah. I suppose I do bear a superficial resemblance to Robin? One of them, anyway."

Lex's expression is *avid* for a long moment --

"Lex. Is that a *kink*?"

"Do you judge me for it, darling...?"

Yes and no. And yes. And maybe -- "Well, considering what *I* want to do with assorted vigilantes... no. Still, isn't Robin even *younger* than I am?"

"My calculations put his age near -- very near -- to yours."

"Hm. I suppose Batman could've started taking them in older... and *smaller*..." Tim forces himself to think about his training --

The time he'd spent convinced he would *never* be ready in Bruce's eyes --

He shakes it off and meets Lex's eyes again. "I don't know, Lex. What kinds of things do vigilantes *say* to you?"

The avid look remains -- and then Lex blinks and laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Lex...?"

"Oh, just thinking... do you know, the ubermensch actually called me an *evil-doer*. On more than one occasion."

"Ah -- hm." Tim bites his lip. "That's -- ah."

"Yes, I couldn't say much other than that, as I was laughing too hard. Well, he was *technically* correct," Lex says and stares into Tim *sharply*. "There was evil, and I was doing it. I regret that now, and every last one of my illegal -- and immoral -- projects has either been stopped or is in the process of *being* stopped."

"I -- believe you --"

"Thank you. Ultimately, however, I think a vigilante -- a *hero* -- still wouldn't have much to say to me."

Tim frowns. "Does that... upset you?"

Lex strokes Tim's cheek. "Yes, it does."

"Lex --"

"It doesn't matter, darling. Nothing matters more to me right now -- right this *moment* -- than turning us both on so much we do positively *ill-advised* things."

"Like providing oral sex without a condom?"

"I'm more than willing to put one on."

"You wouldn't happen to have any that taste precisely like your penis, would you...?"

Lex laughs softly. "Darling... darling. Please suck me off."

Tim growls. "Say please again."

"Please. Please. *Please* wrap your lips around my cock -- *hnh* -- yes, you -- you're worth -- so very much," Lex says, and strokes Tim's hair again --

*Tugs* ---

Tim sucks as hard as he can --

"*Fuck* -- Tim. You'll get me off very, very quickly that way. Which may or may *not* be your -- oh, I already miss --" Lex laughs quietly. "But keep doing precisely what you want to do. Who needs fantasy?"

Tim hums approvingly and wraps his fist around the base of Lex's penis --

Tim starts to *stroke* --

And it's just better to start working his head in the same rhythm, to --

To *give* himself this --

*Lex* --

("Take your pleasure of him.")

Because you can't, Bruce? Or because you won't?

Or -- no. Bruce loves him. Bruce wants him to be *happy*. Bruce -- knows precisely how much happiness Tim takes from Lex's company.

Bruce probably knew all along that Tim could love this, want this --

Bruce, how much *time* do you spend imagining your loves loving each other?

How *much* of your mind is taken up by thoughts like that?

Did you ever imagine losing Jason to someone else? *Could* you imagine something like --

Lex groans. Just --

Tim opens his eyes --

And Lex is staring into him again, *gripping* the bed with his free hand.

Tim raises an eyebrow --

And Lex gasps a laugh. "Darling -- oh, it's precisely that good. Your *mouth*..." Lex hisses between his teeth. "I'm holding on... to my control."

Tim narrows his eyes.

"You *don't* want this to last?"

Well...

Lex grins. "Think about whether... whether you'd like me to fuck your perfect mouth."

Tim moans and nods --

"*Think* about it, darling -- "

Tim moves his thumb and index finger so that he can take Lex deeper --

"*Fuck* -- Tim --"

Tim works his head *faster* --

Lex *pants*. "Tim. *Tim* --"

Tim growls around Lex's penis and -- he can use his tongue. He can *press* with his tongue, and lick all around --

He can pull back and *lap* at the head -- no, *drag* the flat of his tongue against it and stroke Lex harder, *faster* --

"Decide -- please decide --"

Tim meets his eyes and sucks a kiss to the head --

Lex groans and *grips* Tim's head -- "Please."

Tim nods and takes Lex in, swallows --

Oh, yes. Oh --

Tim moves his hand entirely and *gulps* -- and it's so much easier than taking a toy that he wants to whimper, wants to *cry* --

Lex is growling --

Lex *yanks* his hand away from Tim's head and grips the bed with both hands --

"*Tim* -- "

And Tim starts to fuck himself in earnest, starts to --

Bruce would think of it as *taking* himself, but this is a fuck, this is --

This is wonderful. This --

He's moaning for it and trying to fuck himself faster --

He's choking himself off and moaning more, *more* --

"Have you thought -- enough?"

Tim *nods* -- 

"Fuck -- *fuck*, I *want* you --"

Tim gestures Lex to stand --

Crawls back a few inches so Lex can *do* it --

"Over you, darling? That's -- *nnh*. Entirely all right. You - you deserve *everything*..."

Tim pulls Lex's hands back to his head --

"A fantasy?"

Tim nods somewhat vigorously -- and then stills himself --

"*Hnh* -- Tim, *please* --"

Tim looks up and does his best to *demand* with his eyes --

And Lex growls. "I have the -- the best type in the *world*. All right then, darling. *Here*," Lex says, gripping Tim's head and starting to rock. To --

Every time he slips out of Tim's throat, Tim shivers --

Every time he shoves in --

And in --

Tim whimpers and grips Lex's wrists --

"If it's too much, just -- " Lex groans and squeezes his eyes shut -- "No. No." He opens his eyes again. "If it's too much, break one of my fingers, darling --"

Tim chokes on a laugh --

"No, no, save that for my *cock*," and Lex starts thrusting faster, *fucking* faster --

Tim shudders and groans --

And Lex is responsible for choking it off now, Lex is ---

Tim hurts so *much* -- and he doesn't have to. Tim shoves his gaff out of the way --

"There you are. You -- *nnh* -- if you *don't* come, I'll return the favor --"

Tim cries out -- and Lex thrusts in. Tim swallows and *swallows* -- and Lex pulls out --

Tim whimpers -- in.

Tim *sucks* -- out --

And now they're both panting, straining for air and noise or --

Tim grips himself and cries out again --

*Again* --

"Tell me -- tell me I can have *faster*. *Please*."

*This* nod is more frantic than anything else --

And then it's like last night, it's like --

God, he should have more experience, more *fucks* to compare this to, to *define* this feeling of being taken, filled, *reamed* --

"You don't *understand* -- fuck, I need your *sounds*," and Lex grips Tim's head even more tightly -- and only thrusts to the back of Tim's mouth. Over and over --

Tim cries out in *protest* --

"Oh, darling -- please *understand* --"

"*Lex*," and it's slurred, incoherent -- "Lex, *please* --"

Lex growls -- "I -- fuck, all *right*," and Lex shoves back in again --

Tim groans and squeezes himself, tries to remember *how* to stroke, how to *take* --

And then Lex is grunting rhythmically as he fucks Tim's throat, staring down at Tim with needy eyes, *desperate* eyes --

And Tim wants to tell Lex that he feels the same, that he *is* the same, that he'll *bend* --

Please let him *bend* --

"Hnh -- oh. *Now*, darling," Lex says, and then groans *loudly* --

Twitches in Tim's *mouth* --

And then he's coming --

*Coming* in Tim's mouth, Tim's *throat* --

No, he needs that --

Tim yanks his head back --

Lex *gasps* --

And Tim catches the last few spurts on his tongue, hums and begs and *wants* --

And fucks *himself* on Lex's penis when Lex stops --

"Oh -- *fuck*, darling, there's only so much --" And Lex laughs. "Who am I kidding, you'll have me hard again in five minutes."

Tim moans --

Swallows and moans and *sucks* --

Needs *more* -- and he growls and sits back on his heels, pants and covers his face with his hands --

"Oh, darling..." And Lex drops to his knees in front of him and grips Tim's wrists. "Let me...?"

Tim swallows and loosens his grip on his own face. He -- "I do this too much."

Lex tugs Tim's hands away from himself. "Hide yourself from the world?"

"I... suppose that is one way to put it."

"How else would you put it?"

"Covering my shame...?"

Lex's expression -- quirks.

"Hn. Maybe not. I... thank you, Lex."

"You're welcome. Thank *you* for having put a great deal of thought and fantasy into the question of giving a blowjob."

Well. "I've always thought of it as *taking* one."

Lex narrows his eyes. "That... isn't surprising in the least. I usually last much, much longer for a first blowjob, by the way."

Tim blinks. "You... yes?"

"Oh, yes. There's never quite enough... oh, let's call it *verve*."

"Not even with Mercy? Prudence?"

"Mercy has been excellent at sucking people off since well before I knew her -- but her heart is rarely in it, as there's nowhere *near* enough pain for her tastes, and I'm rarely brutal enough about it. Prudence... well. Her heart is *absolutely* in it *every* time, but I'm still not entirely comfortable with the kind of role-play she prefers."

"The naughty secretary...?"

"She wants to be my naughty secretary in nineteen sixty-two."

Tim blinks.

"Yes, precisely. I can't even begin to guess where she picked up *those* kinks, but -- time will tell," and Lex squeezes Tim's wrists. "Shame?"

"Ah... the loss of control, mostly."

"Because you're not supposed to enjoy yourself nearly that much?"

"Not..."

"With me?"

"Bruce... gave me his blessing. Us, rather."

Lex blinks. "Did you *ask* him for it?"

"No, I didn't. He started to ask me if I would let you do... something or other, and then he explicitly told me not to limit myself. And to 'take my joy of you.'"

Lex frowns. "That -- is unexpected."

"Sort of. He's been invested in making me happy."

"And he knows I make you happy?"

Tim -- shivers. "Yes."

"And that's enough for him...?"

"He's a generous man."

Lex's turns away for a moment, gaze *shadowed* --

"Or we could stop speaking about him altogether."

"He was always... generous," Lex says, and shakes his head, bringing Tim's hands to his mouth and kissing them. "Darling. Let me suck you off. Please."

"I -- your mouth --" And Tim grunts for the twitch of his penis.

"Yes. Think about my mouth. How soft it is. How *broad* --"

Tim growls --

"You didn't do nearly enough of that with my cock in your mouth --"

"*Next* time --"

"I believe you. Do you want to be on the floor?"

"I could... stand?"

Lex grins. "Over me, darling...? Putting the supervillain in his place...?"

Tim snorts. "I didn't bring *that* sort of outfit with me."

"So you *did* bring clothes. Hm. How difficult would it be to put them on *before* I get you off?"

"Ah... next to impossible. For some of them, anyway."

"And you'd rather present the outfit as a whole?"

Tim smiles ruefully. "Yes."

Lex narrows his eyes and strokes up Tim's arms to his shoulders -- and pushes.

"Oh -- Lex."

"Yes? No?"

Tim lies back and pulls his knees up so he can tug the gaff the rest of the way off. And then he spreads -- *not* as far as he can. 

Lex sighs and cups Tim's hips. "I'm *not* going to fuck you on the floor."

"Probably for the best."

"I *am* going to stare at you."

"More problematic without the gaff -- ah. Never mind --"

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Are you a woman right now, darling?"

Tim looks at his penis *pointedly* --

"Do you wish it wasn't there?"

"I -- not that. But --" Tim shakes his head. "Not now, Lex. Please."

Lex nods. "Later...?"

"I promise --"

"Thank you," Lex says, and kisses the point of Tim's chin --

Tim's throat --

He *sucks* Tim's nipples, right then left --

"Please -- *ohn* --"

He bites and sucks *harder* --

And Tim's body remembers how hungry he is, how needy and -- *needy* --

Tim gasps and claws at the carpet, tosses his *head* --

And it occurs to him -- "*Wait* --"

Lex pulls back. "It's all right, Tim. It's --"

"Tie me. Please tie me."

Lex pants out a breath. "For how long?"

"I -- until you get me off. We can renegotiate then," Tim says, and tries to think, tries to *justify* -- "*Please*."

"Up," Lex says, and stands -- "Please."

Tim stands and feels like he's staggering, like he's poorly-designed, like his center of gravity is --

Moving, because Lex is *pulling* him to the bed --

*Throwing* him -- and straightening his clothes.

Tim lets himself bounce closer to the headboard and reaches out to grip it --

"Soft or hard, Tim?"

"I -- I don't --"

"Then I'll choose," and Lex pulls out -- soft cuffs. Those can be more difficult to deal with --

He shouldn't let Lex fucking Luthor --

But it's Lex, and he wants -- "Please *fast* --"

"*Anything* you say, darling," and Lex straddles Tim and ties him in -- less than a minute.

Tim *pants* --

"Struggle for me?"

That doesn't mean dislocate his thumbs.

That doesn't mean knee Lex in the back and then head-butt him.

That doesn't -- Tim squeezes his eyes shut and yanks *hard* on the restraints -- nothing --

Or everything. It --

"Fuck. Fuck."

"It's all right, Tim. You are..." Lex swallows and shudders. "Thank you."

"Lex, no --"

"*Thank* you."

But -- of course it means something to Lex. Of course --

The *trust* --

"Lex..."

"Need... can look a great deal like trust, Tim."

"Does it. Does it feel that way?"

Lex smiles ruefully. "With you...? Yes. Very, very much so. Not with many others, I don't think," and Lex strokes Tim's mouth *lightly* --

Tim rears up to nuzzle Lex's hand --

"Oh... darling. Legs?"

"I think. I think I'll be all right without --" Tim shakes his head. "No. Forget that. Do you *want* to?"

Lex stares into him --

His eyes are -- "I -- *heat* haze --"

"For you, darling. You... well. Take a look."

And Tim rears up enough *to* look -- and Lex is already most of the way back to hard. He --

Tim licks his lips --

Tim *writhes* --

"What do you need, darling?"

"*You* -- I -- I mean --"

"Shh, that was... a wonderful answer," Lex says, and starts to *stroke* himself.

"Nnh -- please, Lex --"

"Should I tease you...?"

"I. I don't --" Tim swallows and shakes his head.

"How much do you *hurt* right now?"

Tim whimpers and tries to *arch* --

And Lex kneels up and cups Tim's scrotum -- "Darling... answer me, please."

"I hurt. I -- I've hurt this much before --"

"Do you want to hurt more?"

Tim growls -- and catches himself in the process of dislocating his thumbs. He --

"Are the restraints... inadequate?"

"What? No --"

"All right. Answer me."

"I want. I want to come. I want you to make me come. I want --" Tim swallows and -- doesn't fucking sob --

"Keep going, darling..."

"I want this to be *easy*, Lex, I want -- I want you to *train* me --"

Lex grunts -- and squeezes hard --

Hard enough to make Tim cry *out* --

Make him *twitch* --

"Please -- *please* --"

"I can't... please tell me we can have this again, Tim."

"*Yes* --"

"Then I will be... merciful to both of us," Lex says, and grips Tim's penis with his free hand --

"Ohn -- "

"You're going to come, Tim."

"Yes -- oh, Lex --"

"There's *nothing* you can do about it."

"*Lex* --"

"You're *mine*... until *both* of us decide otherwise," and Lex raises an eyebrow.

Tim -- can't actually describe the noise he just made --

And Lex shows what seems to be *all* of his teeth -- "Darling. I believe you're getting it."

"*Please* --"

"Tell me -- *ask* me to get you off."

"Please make me come!"

"Again."

"*Lex* --"

"Tim."

"*Fuck* -- fuck me, hurt me -- I don't -- "

"Not what I asked," Lex says, and lets *go* --

Tim growls and arches again, *fights* -- no. He can't fight. He can't do *anything*, because Tim Drake is helpless, Tim Drake is incredibly fucked in the head --

And helpless.

Tim drops and opens his eyes. "Please, Lex."

Lex raises his eyebrow again. "You know what to do."

"Please -- make me come. Please get me *off*. Please drive me *crazy* -- and don't let me say no unless -- I have a really good reason."

Lex inhales shakily. "Tim. 'This is freaking me out' *is* a good reason."

"No -- not tonight. Not for *this*."

"Tim --"

"*Please*, Lex!"

Lex shakes his head --

"Please, oh, God, fuck, I can't -- I can't *stay* like this, you have to -- I *need* you to *fix* me --"

"You're not *broken* --"

"*Lex* --"

"And I'm not -- I'm *not* a hero who can rape you with impunity. No, darling, you have to *take* this."

Tim whimpers and bites his lip --

"You can do it. You can..." Lex strokes Tim's cheek and jaw -- "I believe you can do anything."

"I *can't* --"

"*No*."

Tim gasps. "Lex --"

"You *can*."

"*Please* --"

"Take it, darling," Lex says, and *cups* his penis --

"Nnh --"

"Take *exactly* what you want," and he begins stroking lightly --

"*Please*, Lex!"

"Please what?"

"I ---" Tim shakes his head and *yanks* on the restraints --

"You're beautiful. What do you need?"

"*You* -- *please* --"

"You'll have to be more specific than that, darling," Lex says, and *squeezes* lightly --

Tim hears himself *whine* --

Squeezes his eyes shut --

"No, you're not allowed to do that, either."

"*Hnh* -- oh, Lex -- *Lex* --"

"Open your eyes."

Tim does -- and Lex's lips are parted --

Lex is *flushed* --

Tim rears up -- and gets nowhere -- "Please. Please, I'd like a kiss."

"Do you need one?"

"Not. Not more than -- other things --"

"Are you distracting yourself?"

Tim growls like an *animal* --

And Lex strokes him even more lightly --

"Please, *no*!"

"Take what you need, darling. It's all right. No one will judge you. No one will make assumptions about you. No one -- *no* one -- will decide that you're somehow *too* needy."

Tim -- pants. "I want. I can't --"

"Tim. You could never be too needy for me."

"*Ahn* -- oh -- oh, *fuck*," and Tim is aware that he's yanking on the restraints again --

That he's making the headboard bang against the *wall* --

"Take. What. You. *Need* --"

"I need *you*! I need you so much, I couldn't -- please, Lex, please, I need to come --"

"Then tell me --"

"*Harder*! Stroke me harder, I need it, I need it faster, I need you to *fuck* me --"

"And suck you?"

"I need your *mouth*!"

"I need everything about you, Tim. And I will *have* it," Lex says, bending down and --

Tim screams --

Tim yanks on the restraints and screams again, tries to feel --

Tries to feel something other than *hot* and *wet* and *soft* --

And then Lex is humming and Tim can't keep himself from writhing, arching and *fighting* --

No, no, he can't be good at this, he can't --

"*Please*!"

"Mm-hmm..."

"*Lex*! *Lex*!"

Because Lex's mouth is tight, so --

Lex is sucking him so -- so *hard*, and he'd done this with Bruce, had this --

God, Tim can *see* it, and he wants it for himself, wants --

Every *second* --

But then Lex is *moaning*, and Tim realizes that he's leaking steadily, *copiously* --

"Lex -- ohn -- I want you, I want you --"

Lex pulls *off* --

"*Please*!"

Lex smiles and licks the underside of Tim's penis --

Presses Tim's penis to his abdomen --

And sucks in Tim's *scrotum* --

"*Fuck*!"

And starts -- starts jerking him off fast and *hard* --

""Please -- please -- *please* -- *fuck* --"

"No, I don't think --" Lex shudders. "You drive me *insane*," and Lex swallows him --

Just --

Tim can't scream can't think can't *breathe* --

Lex is *staring* at him --

Tim opens his mouth -- and whimpers, over and over --

*Sobs* and whimpers --

He's never --

His spine feels *fused* and he's hard, so --

"*Inside* me -- *please* --"

And Lex shoves two fingers into his mouth *next* to Tim's penis --

"Oh -- *yes* --"

Out again and --

"*Lex* --"

In so *deep* --

The burn is perfect, just -- "I *need* you!"

And Lex crooks his fingers --

"*Nnh* --"

And scrapes his *teeth* --

And Tim screams again, and screams *louder* --

And then it's just noise and heat, noise and light, noise and the way he can't stop bucking for it, for Lex, for the fact that he's coming hard enough to *sprain* something --

So good --

So *good*, and now he's *laughing* --

He has to sound like a *lunatic* --

And then he's being dropped from a great height and *slamming* into his body --

He tries to sit up --

He can't get anywhere. He can't --

Tim lets himself fall back and -- moans.

A lot.

And then laughs a little more --

"Darling..."

"Mmm?"

"Open your eyes."

"Oh, yes, that," and Tim does so, smiling helplessly at Lex -- who is smiling down at him and cupping Tim's face. "Please kiss me?"

"Of course," Lex says, and closes his eyes as he leans in --

And the kiss is soft --

Hot and *slick* --

He's tasting himself in Lex's mouth. He --

He hasn't *done* that before --

All right, he's only had sex three times, but -- it's still important. It still feels --

Feels like so *much* --

Tim moans into the kiss and closes his own eyes, urges Lex's tongue into his mouth and cups the back of his head --

And Lex stiffens, but only for --

Oh. Fuck.

Tim moves his hand --

And Lex pulls back. "Noticed that, did you?"

"I... did the cuff *break*?"

Lex smiles. "Not even remotely, darling. *Was* it Bruce who taught you how to dislocate your thumbs?"

He'd taught *himself* -- "Lex, I -- what?"

"Darling... you're not going to break, are you?"

Fuck, fuck -- "Is this... some sort of additional game? Role-play?"

Lex *laughs*. "Oh... Robin. It's all right, you know. I don't think I'd love you quite this much if you weren't *precisely* this good even moments after you come screaming."

"I -- think I need a *minute*, Lex. I mean... I suppose you *could* just order in a Robin costume from anywhere, but I'd have to put my foot down about the green. It's just not my color."

"I love you. I love you *because* you're one of the single best liars I've ever met. And I'm not going to do anything to you."

Jesus fucking -- "I think that would be kind of dull for a sex game --"

"What will it take, hmm?" And Lex kneels up and straddles Tim's hips again. "What will it take to make you admit what we both know?"

"Truth serum? I don't *know*, Lex!"

"You... are almost certainly trained to resist all *sorts* of truth drugs. Certainly, my Virtues are," and Lex cocks his head to the side. "Are you also trained to drink?"

Yes, of *course* -- "I think I have to safeword."

Lex closes his eyes -- but only for a moment before he leans over to open the other cuff. And then he moves to sit beside Tim, pinching the bridge of his nose. And that --

Fuck. Fuck. *Fuck* --

Has Barbara called Kara, yet? Clark, himself?

Who *is* outside those windows waiting for things to get... even more fucked-up than they are?

And why, exactly, is Tim trying to *hug* Lex -- oh, yes, he cares about him.

About Lex *Luthor* --

Who is, in fact, a super *genius* on top of being -- a recovering supervillain.

And who is depressed enough -- pissed enough? -- that he isn't hugging Tim back. Or even lifting his *arm*. Or --

"Lex..."

"I understand, you know."

Tim swallows. "What do you understand?"

Lex takes a deep breath -- and then looks at him. His eyes are --

"Lex, you look ten years older than you did five minutes ago --"

"Too old for you, darling?"

"*No* --"

"I understand... he was the most noble teenaged boy on the *planet*. I loved him. I loved him... and he's still the same man. He *must* be, or he couldn't have done..." Lex shakes his head. "Of course you gave yourself to him."

"He... he's often wonderful."

"And Dick Grayson -- the first Robin. Knowing you..." Lex narrows his eyes. "Was it him you fixated on as a child, darling? Bright colors and brighter smiles? Warmth and love and sudden, shocking bursts of violence?"

Yes, yes -- "Lex."

"I would like... to be the sort of man a boy like you could be honest with. I would like to know *how* to do that." And Lex looks at him *expectantly* --

"Get out, Tim."

Barbara --

"The *Virtues* are *moving*, Tim! Get *out*!"

He --

"Tim, come *on*, Kara is tied up --"

"No," Tim says, and takes off his necklace --

"*Tim*!"

He pulls out the studs, as well. And dumps them in the top drawer of the bedside table.

Lex is -- staring at him.

"I'm -- I'm not a woman tonight. Or a man."

Lex breathes deeply --

Swallows --

And nods, stroking Tim's ears.

"Lex..."

"Wait just a moment, darling," and Lex stands up -- and stiffens.

"Lex?"

"Not you," and Lex opens the bedroom door -- it was only closed *part* way -- "Go back to bed."

Hope, wearing pale blue cotton pajamas and a matching head-scarf, stares. At him. "I believe it would be helpful if I were to talk to Tim, Lex."

"I'm afraid that's not for you to do, darling."

Hope... turns the corners of her mouth down. Slightly.

"Your concern is noted, but... look what he's not wearing."

Hope blinks, and then nods and turns back to Lex. "The alien is close."

"Is he. Well, we'll just have to endeavor not to do anything which would make him feel the need to get closer," and Lex raises an eyebrow.

Hope raises both of her own. "I believe I agree with Mercy about the importance of owning Tim."

Lex laughs softly. "It will not happen tonight... but please tell her that I'm working on it. In my *own* way."

Hope looks at *him* again --

Tim *copes* with his nudity --

With the fact that she can undoubtedly smell his semen on Lex's *breath* --

He feels no need to challenge her, however, or even fight for his life. They are, in this moment, in the same book -- if not on the same page. He wants --

He wants Lex to have as much happiness as Lex has given him.

He wants that -- soon.

He inclines his head to Hope --

And she inclines her head to him. "I will go now, Lex. I have... emotion that must be... sorted."

Lex lifts his chin. "You will come back *immediately* if there is need."

"Yes, Lex. Goodnight, Lex. Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight, Hope," Tim says --

And Lex strokes her cheek. "Sleep well."

They watch her go together --

And then Lex closes the bedroom door... and very clearly considers locking it. He --

Tim shivers and sits on his heels. "It's all right."

"Is it...?"

"I want -- I know you weren't decanted from a tube a week ago, Lex. You have your own life, your own loves, and your own responsibilities."

Lex rests a hand on the door, splaying his fingers -- "I wanted you to tell me."

Tim swallows. "I -- can understand that."

"You can't."

"No."

"Even now...?"

"I'm... trying very hard not to cover my face with my hands again."

Lex laughs softly. "Plausible deniability isn't *very* plausible when my electronics sniffers picked up on the circuitry in that jewelry."

"You never know where these things come from --"

"Is she truly your friend? Or is she simply Big Sister?"

Tim... breathes. And accepts. "Barbara and I have a great deal in common --"

"And?"

"Sometimes she frightens me badly. But only when she's hitting on me."

Lex turns around and blinks at him. "Your entire family wants to have sex with you."

"Ah... yes? Some more than others --"

"I have -- one moment," Lex says again, and moves to the desk, pulling out... a jewelry box.

"Lex?"

"They aren't -- perfect," and Lex comes back to the bed, moving to kneel beside him.

"You really didn't --"

"Have to, yes, I know." Lex's smile is somewhat pained. "But..."

Tim takes the box and opens it -- gold studs with moderately-sized *chunks* of some purple stone. Tim smiles. "Now I want to get dressed."

"Do you like them?"

"Not *usually* my color -- what is the stone?"

"Tanzanite. I had to call *five* jewelers in this ridiculous city -- well. Will you wear them for me?"

*For* him -- Tim lets his lips part -- and turns to offer Lex his right ear.

"Darling... thank you," and Lex puts the stud in gently, and then the other one.

They're heavier than Oracle's studs, and the pull feels like a metaphor, like --

"How long have you been pierced?"

"Five weeks."

"Who did it...?"

Tim smiles. "Barbara."

"Does she do that for all of her... associates?"

"Most of them are already pierced."

Lex nods slowly, and his eyes are wild, full --

"Lex... let me dress for you."

"For *both* of us, you said."

"I'm feeling... less in need of being covered --"

"Then don't --"

"But I still want to be beautiful for you."

Lex grunts -- "Tim."

Tim knee-walks closer. "Lex."

Lex stares at his throat --

His ear --

His chest --

His groin --

"Lex..."

"Not a man *or* a woman. What does that mean? To you."

"Ah... neither? And sometimes both. Sometimes... earlier it felt very wrong that I only had a penis and scrotum."

"'Only'."

"Yes."

"And... when you're wearing the gaff you feel less... incomplete?"

"Ah... it's something like Schrödinger's Vagina."

Lex *chokes* -- and then narrows his eyes --

And cups Tim's hips --

"Your hands --"

"Do you like them, Tim?"

"Yes --"

"Bruce... softens his?"

"Lex --"

"What am I saying, of course he does. And you hate it."

"I --"

"You like for hands to feel... worked. Rough?"

Tim smiles ruefully. "It's a kink."

"Remind me *not* to introduce you to any gruff, manly sorts --"

"Barbara -- she asked me if I only dated aristocrats."

"And I thought you said she *knew* you."

Tim laughs -- and gasps when Lex squeezes hard. "Let me dress for you."

"For me. For me... you picked out clothes while thinking of me?"

"Yes. Steph helped."

"But she doesn't approve."

"No. But she approves of my happiness."

Lex stares at him --

It's almost a *glare* --

And Tim leans in slowly and kisses him, marking out his mouth with his own, tasting --

Tasting *himself* --

Tim moans and makes the kiss deeper, *needier* --

Tim blushes and pulls back --

"Don't --" Lex shakes his head and strokes Tim's hair before cupping the back of his head. "The amount of time I'd like to spend kissing you -- well," and Lex does just that, he --

He makes love to Tim's mouth again, and it's warm, and soft --

It's hard and *hot* --

Tim pulls back --

"*Tim* --"

"Let me dress for you... while I still can."

Lex sighs out a breath -- and grips Tim's scrotum with his free hand.

"Ohn -- Lex."

"You never would've told me."

"I *can't* --"

"Because of who I am? Who I've been?"

"I want -- I was telling myself it would be possible one day," Tim says, and realizes that it's true. "It -- it had started to hurt."

"Had it?"

"Yes, Lex."

"Do you -- how do you feel about me?"

Tim smiles. "Approving of your tendency to ask difficult questions while holding my scrotum."

Lex laughs softly. "I don't have to."

"No...?"

"I love the way you *feel*, darling. I love the fact that you shave this, and your legs, and *some* of your pubic hair -- but not your armpits."

"I'm -- often conflicted about that."

"Yes?"

"I never know..." Tim shakes his head. "I never know if I want to, or if it's just something I feel I should do. Or 'should' do."

"Do you experiment?"

"The results were inconclusive."

"Would you do it for me?"

"Yes. Do you want me to?"

Lex smiles, and his eyes are bright again, *positively* wild --

"You feel better."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Ask me to do other things for you."

"Leave home."

"Lex."

Lex sighs. "I did have to try. You've been off-duty since I picked you up."

"Mostly."

"'Mostly'? Ah -- you were *undercover* in that club...?"

Tim smiles. "Mostly. Bruce... has been trying to make me happy by giving me assignments like that."

Lex blinks. "Bruce makes your underwear."

"Yes."

"Bruce measured your *cock*."

"Yes."

"Before you let him suck it."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Yes."

"If I could... I would give you a functioning vagina. And not just because I'd love to make you scream while fucking it."

Tim -- breathes. "Thank you."

"You're an excellent advertisement for third-gender living. Come out."

"I've considered it. Usually in terms of letting Bruce adopt me."

Lex narrows his eyes -- and breathes deep. And lets go.

"Lex...?"

"Please. Dress for me."

Tim smiles and leans in to kiss Lex *briefly* --

"I make you happy."

"Yes," Tim says, moving off the bed and putting his gaff back on, wincing a little until he can settle himself inside --

Mmm --

Next are the garters --

The stockings --

"A little off-center on the right," Lex says, and his voice is... rough.

Tim smiles and fixes it. "Like this?"

"Perfect," and Lex's eyes are almost --

No, not almost. They're *deep*, and full --

Tim growls.

"Darling. Please."

Tim licks his teeth and nods. Next are the spanky pants -- which don't even *make* it *to* pants --

There's barely more coverage than what the gaff gives --

Tim sighs and laces them tight --

And Lex grunts.

Tim switches his hips.

"I hope you don't expect to leave here tonight."

Tim raises an eyebrow.

"Insert threats and intimidation here...?"

"Lex."

"No...? *Why* did I give you the whip hand?"

Tim smiles and pulls out the corset. "Because you love me."

"I do. More than..." Lex sighs and shakes his head. "You're the most beautiful creature --"

"'Creature?'"

"You don't find 'person' a little generic?"

"It doesn't make me feel like a *freak*."

"Speaking as an honest-to-Christmas freak... embrace it, darling. You'll be happier."

"Insert noncommittal grunt here."

Lex laughs softly -- and rolls out of bed. "May I put it on for you?"

Tim -- parts his lips. And breathes.

"It seems like a large step?"

"I never -- I always do this myself."

"And your makeup?"

"That, too. I taught myself -- well, Alfred helped, at first."

"That's right, he *is* a former leading light of the stage... still. I promise it will make me... ecstatic."

Tim takes another deep breath. "Yes?"

"Yes."

"Then... all right," Tim says, and hands the corset over.

"This color..."

"Do you like it?"

"It's nearly the color of your cock when you're hard enough. I love it."

Tim smiles. "I had the same thought." And he raises his arms.

"Let's see... ah, a catch which can be detached once the corset is properly situated. Ingenious. Off-the-rack?"

Tim shakes his head. "I... Bruce acquired it for me."

"He loves you madly."

"I -- love him."

Lex narrows his eyes -- and nods. "He's a hero. More to the point... he's the sort of hero even a boy like you can get behind," and Lex pulls the corset against Tim, seating it perfectly on the first try.

"Oh -- a boy like me?"

"A violent boy. A mean-spirited boy. A cynical boy."

"I thought I was a romantic."

"You are," Lex says, and hooks the temporary catch before beginning to work on the laces with quick, deft motions.

Loving motions. He --

"Your ideas of romance... well, they're all fundamentally *possible*, aren't they? The Dark Knight and his squire -- squires, plural. A mission to ease the lives of the people poor enough -- or insane enough -- to live in the most frightening city on the continent. A chance to be better than you are -- to *act* better --"

"I try -- I. Never mind."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "You're a good person, Tim. Loving, brave, generous --"

"Neurotic, mean-spirited, cruel --"

"We all have our contradictions. And Robin is something brighter than anything else, isn't he?"

Tim closes his eyes.

"Please -- please."

Tim *opens* his eyes. "Lex..."

"You still can't speak about this with me? Even when it's just -- 'just' -- your own emotions?"

"You... it's the heart of me."

"I want that, Tim. I want *you*."

("But I'm promising you now that I will always -- *always* -- be a man who you can give yourself to without shame.")

Tim -- pants.

"No, darling. Breathe as evenly as you can, please."

"Yes, I -- of course," Tim says, shaking his head and focusing --

Breathing --

"You are... so beautiful. Tell me something true. Please."

"I've been in love with Dick since I was three."

Lex blinks -- "And when I do the math... do you mean that you were in love with Robin?"

Tim shakes his head and smiles. "Or -- I was. But Robin was less important than Dick. I didn't know the secret until I was nine."

"Until you were -- all right, no, please go on."

"Hn. I -- tighter, please?"

"Of course," Lex says, and uses his *strength* --

"*Hnh* -- oh. Lex, I -- ah. Anyway. I met him at Haly's Circus. The day his parents were killed. He hugged me. He smiled at me. He took a picture with me and my parents. He held me in his *lap* -- and I watched his parents die. And I watched Batman take him away."

Lex stares at him.

"I stalked him. I -- every article written about him. Every party Bruce dragged him to. I wanted -- I wanted to be hugged again."

Lex closes his eyes and seems to be *counting* --

"Lex..."

"Tell me how to compete with that," Lex says, and opens his eyes again. "Tell me how I can *touch* that."

"You can't."

"Tim --"

"You touch... you touch other parts of me."

Lex finishes lacing and ties the laces off. And then tugs on Tim's pectorals with his thumbs until his nipples are showing. Slightly.

"Oh... Lex."

"Makeup?"

"Would you like to put that on for me, as well?"

Lex studies him -- "Very much so."

Tim smiles. "Where do you want me? Other than Metropolis, I mean."

"If I *succeeded* in killing the ubermensch, there'd be all *sorts* of crime for you to fight there."

Tim makes a face.

Lex sighs. "Yes, all right. Old dreams die hard. Please sit at the desk."

Tim grabs the boots and gloves and does so --

"Gold...?"

"Steph's suggestion."

"Give her my thanks. You're going to look -- " Lex shakes his head and tugs the makeup case out of Tim's pack. "I haven't done this for a male of the species -- forgive me, a male-*bodied* member of the species -- in much too long. Forgive me ahead of time for losing what's left of my mind."

Tim laughs and pulls on the -- platform -- boots, which end just above the knee. He zips them closed, tugs on the gloves, and crosses his legs at the knee. "Forgiven."

Lex looks him over with *covetous* pleasure -- and then blinks. "What pronouns do you use for yourself?"

"Male... much of the time."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"Sometimes... sometimes it doesn't feel as if there are any pronouns, at all. Even though there are."

Lex nods thoughtfully. "Close your eyes for me?"

"You've already decided on the shadow?"

"You're going to *match*, darling. You're too neat a person not to."

Tim smiles -- and closes his eyes.

"I think... liner first."

"All right."

Lex's touch for this is just as deft as it should be, just -- but.

"You're marking me."

"Decorating you."

Tim smiles more broadly. "I like it."

"I like *you*... and please allow me to reiterate that you give a *fantastic* blowjob."

"Hn. Want another?"

"How *does* your jaw feel?"

"Sore... but I've had worse."

"I'll just bet," Lex says, and cups Tim's jaw with his free hand, turning Tim back and forth -- "I want to fuck you again. Still up for it?"

"I... was considering saving that."

"For Bruce...? Or Dick?"

"I -- someone --"

"We can try other things."

Tim frowns --

"No, darling, not that, please."

Tim takes a breath and evens out his features --

"I... truly do have the best possible type. Why were you frowning?"

"I think -- I think I want you to demand more things. May I open my eyes yet?"

Lex laughs. "Oh, darling... almost," he says, and strokes on what seems to be three millimeters' worth more shadow. "There."

Tim opens his eyes. "Tell me why what I said was amusing?"

"I *think* it's less a matter of you wanting me to be more demanding... and more a matter of you wanting me to be appropriately insane for you."

Tim opens his mouth -- closes it and winces. "Damn."

"You're young... and you've only just allowed yourself to come into a power other teenagers were experimenting with in middle and *early* high school," Lex says, and sits on the corner of the desk. "It's understandable."

"But really *not* optimal. I -- how jealous are you? Truly."

"'Truly.' Hmm. I believe it would be fair to say that I can't help thinking about how loyal my Virtues are to *me* -- and thus how likely they are to fall in love with *anyone* else -- and applying the warming yet depressing answers to you."

"I'm not -- I don't belong to anyone, Lex. And I *won't*."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Do you belong to your mission?"

"Dick tried to tell me that I did. I disabused him of the notion."

Lex -- flares his nostrils.

"Lex --"

"Let me finish your makeup."

Tim narrows his eyes.

'"Words can't express how thrilled I am that you want to give me hope for the future -- *our* future -- but I believe that sort of thing is somewhat reflexive for you."

"*Lex* --"

"Tim. Please do me a favor and consider the question with more than just the *tender* parts of your wonderful heart."

Tim rears back -- and nods, then tilts his face up and relaxes his features in order to make it easier for Lex to work.

"I don't do this nearly often enough for Mercy and Hope," Lex offers conversationally.

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure. Certainly, I don't deny myself pleasure that often in other ways," Lex says, and brushes on blush -- "You're -- so beautiful."

"Lex, I --"

"No, darling, think about the question."

Tim frowns -- internally -- and does it. He wants Lex to be happy. He wants Lex to *have* happiness, and not just as reward-slash-incentive for the fact that he's surrendering his shady business practices --

He's --

He'd decided to stop being a supervillain *before* he realized Tim was Robin, but then he'd simply... kept it up. He --

"Relax a little more, darling."

Tim takes a deep breath. "Sorry."

"It's all right. The artist really *shouldn't* give the canvas stressful thoughts."

"Did you want me to be your canvas?"

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"It's a reasonable question for people in my line of work, Lex."

Lex snorts -- and takes a breath. "I'd rather not mark you, at all. Unless it was something you needed."

Something *he* needed -- Tim shivers.

"Keep thinking."

"I -- all right."

Lex nods and examines the various tubes of lipstick, one at a time -- "Wait."

"Yes, Lex?"

He holds up Steph's plum. "One of these things is not like the others."

"Steph suggested it for tonight -- it's hers."

"You share makeup with your girlfriend --" Lex flares his nostrils. "Never piss her off."

"That wasn't in the plan --"

"She's clearly perfect for you. Make love to *her*."

"I -- that *was* in the plan --"

"Tonight?"

"Perhaps. I -- it depends on what she wants."

"And you *don't* think she'll throw everything aside for the chance to have you while the having is good?"

Tim makes a face. "She *has* other lovers --"

"How long have the two of you been together?"

"Ah -- nearly three years."

"And how far have you gone with her?"

"Kissing and -- mostly kissing. Other touches have been platonic."

"And she does, in fact, like male-bodied members of the species?"

"Yes, but --"

"Darling."

"Lex --"

Lex laughs softly. "All right. But be *prepared* for her to do a triple back-flip onto your cock."

"I -- vivid."

"I'm good at that sort of thing. Please go back to thinking."

"I want you."

"I know, darling."

"I *need* you --"

"I know that, too."

"I --" Tim swallows. Tries --

And Lex smiles ruefully and strokes Tim's cheek. "It's all right --"

"I'm afraid. I --" Tim shakes his head. "I know that I'm willing to do staggeringly ill-advised things for the chance to stay near you. I know that you're probably always going to be someone I run to when I need to be... emotionally adjusted. I know that just hearing your voice makes me... makes me light inside. I..."

"But?"

Tim takes Lex's free hand and brings it to his mouth --

Nuzzles and kisses it --

Licks the fingertips and sucks -- no. He presses Lex's fingertips to his mouth and breathes.

Breathes.

"Darling..."

"I'm afraid to look at those facts too closely. I'm afraid to be in love with you."

Lex's fingers twitch -- and then still. "'A fear-based organism,' you said."

"Yes."

"What's left without it?"

"Ah... bitchiness and neediness, for the most part. I'm not -- I'm not generous. I'm only kind to people I respect a great deal. I don't believe very many people deserve my honesty, and most of those people don't deserve all of it. I." Tim frowns and bites Lex's fingertips. "Reflexiveness... there *are* some things I do reflexively. I get hard when a beautiful, intelligent, and dedicated man wants me enough. I get violent when a male of the species does or says something I consider to be sexist, racist, transphobic, or homophobic. I tend to assume the male is at fault when there's a problem between a male and a female. I lie. I lie -- so much." Tim swallows. "Robin is supposed to symbolize hope, and I can -- I manage that much of the time. But it's not reflexive. It's not natural to me. It's -- it's not reflexive."

"So I should have hope... because you don't know how to provide it? When you're being honest, that is."

"Ah... yes? It made sense in my head."

Lex smiles -- warmly. *Sharply*. "In mine, as well. I'll take what you've said under advisement. Please relax your mouth."

Tim does so.

Lex -- shivers. And strokes Tim's lips lightly --

Repeatedly --

*Harder* --

"Lex..."

"The plum will be perfect tonight. You... think your girlfriend would hate me."

"She already does."

"Even though I'm reforming?"

"Her background includes people who have 'reformed' themselves more than once."

Lex winces -- and pops the top off the lipstick.

Tim breathes and relaxes -- but still has to moan when Lex starts applying it. Just --

His lips are still swollen. Still -- sensitive.

Lex is *painting* him --

Lex is making him *beautiful* -- for himself.

Tim fights back a shiver -- and looks up at Lex through his lashes.

"Spanking?" And Lex recaps the lipstick and studies Tim critically.

"Ah... I'm willing. Very willing. Did you not like the effect?"

"I'm wondering if I should've given you lip-liner."

"I only use it when I want to look older."

"Hence my wondering."

Tim snorts and grins. "Lex."

"You can't blame me for wanting you to be old enough that I could parade you in front of the world."

"Oh, wonderful. I can be a target for people who hate Bruce, people who hate *you*, *and* people who want your fortunes."

"But you can be beautiful in front of *large* numbers of people."

"I've never wanted to be in the public eye, Lex."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

Tim smiles, knowing the lipstick will make it look *wet* --

"Hold that thought," Lex says, standing and -- finally -- stripping, quickly and neatly. When he's down to his boxer-briefs, he pauses. "Do you still need me to appear somewhat unattainable?"

Need -- but he *had* needed it. "No, Lex."

Lex peels off his boxer-briefs and sighs -- and, of course, he's impressively hard.

"You're beautiful."

"Thank you, darling," Lex says, and moves to the bed, sitting down near the center with his back to the headboard. "Stand for me...?"

Tim rolls to his feet *precisely* as if he's wearing four-inch platform heels and stalks to the foot of the bed, cocking his right hip and splaying his right hand on it --

Letting his left hand dangle suggestively --

And sneering.

"And thank you for that, as well. Tease me...?"

Tim lifts his chin -- and begins.

*

Watching Tim abuse his half-exposed nipples --

Watching Tim sneer and swivel his hips --

Watching Tim turn his back and *pat* his leather-encased ass --

Oh, Bruce. What were you *thinking* when you bought this?

Was it more profound than the vaguely verbal counterpoint to the twitch of your cock?

Did you imagine him wearing it for *you*...?

Tim bends over -- and Lex finds himself wishing for X-ray vision. He can see Tim's ass, thighs, and the backs of his knees perfectly well, but he can no longer see Tim's face -- or his clever, clever fingers.

Lex sighs --

"Did you have something to *say*, Luthor?"

Oh, sweet marinated *hams*, that tone -- but. "Perfect -- but I'm not at all attached to my last name. I'd rather be *detached* from it more often than I wouldn't."

Tim stiffens -- and stands again, giving Lex a narrow look from over his shoulder.

"Yes, darling?"

"If you don't *like* it, *change* it."

Oh, that *sneer* -- well. "It's not that simple. And you know it."

Lifted chin again -- and then Tim walks away --

*Stalks* away from the bed.

Switches his hips *slowly* --

"Please come back, Tim."

"I don't *like* men who can't do anything but make excuses."

And that's entirely true... "Do you like men?"

"They have their uses," Tim says, and stretches his arms slowly --

Showily --

The muscles of his upper back are -- mm.

"Oh, yes? Do you use many?"

"Do you *really* think you deserve an answer to that question?"

Lex -- doesn't growl.

Or grip his cock --

Or question himself overmuch. "I think I deserve you on my cock."

Another sneer from over his shoulder. "Pathetic."

Lex feels his *nostrils* flare. "I think you'll find --"

"What? That you have something to *offer* me? Please. I'm wealthy, gorgeous, and young. You have *nothing* for me," and Tim stretches his arms over his head --

Pushes up onto his toes --

Turns to the side and *kicks* -- and holds his ankle near his *face*.

Lex reconsiders a lifetime's worth of indifference to contortionists -- "Beautiful."

"I *know* that."

"Do you...? You went to a great deal of trouble with your appearance for someone who knows they're already attractive."

"Hn." And Tim's smile is -- briefly -- entirely real. And then it becomes a moue. "I'm beautiful *whatever* I do."

"Yes, you are," Lex says -- well, that was more of a blurt --

And Tim's lips are parted *softly* --

"I. Want more."

Tim nods once and drops his leg, then *saunters* around the room, stopping near Still Life and Street and sighing disgustedly.

"Yes, darling?"

"I suppose you like *math* or something."

Lex -- doesn't snort. "It has its appeal."

"To *you*," Tim says, and flicks at the *frame* of the painting with his fingers. "Math is dull."

"It's one of the ways the universe maps itself --"

Tim yawns ostentatiously and moves to the bedside table, stroking the finish idly. "I suppose you want to fuck me."

"Until you cry."

Another sneer. "You just keep finding ways to be *more* pathetic --"

"Sometimes tears are cathartic. I think a... person like you could use that."

"You interrupted me."

Fuck, fuck -- "What will you do to me for it?"

"I should leave you there. A man like you probably knows *all* about how to jerk off."

"I'd like to -- please you."

"I thought you wanted to make me *cry*," Tim says, and looks as if he wishes he had hair to toss.

Lex promises himself at least two hours of wig-shopping tomorrow --  "Have you never cried for pleasure?"

"I don't think you're capable of *giving* me that much pleasure," and Tim opens the top drawer, tossing out the lubricant -- onto the bed -- and pulling out Mercy's favorite hunting knife --

Her favorite scourge -- that gets a stroke which may or may not be reflexive --

He doesn't actually touch any of the dildos or plugs. Of course.

Lex smiles. "If you were to check the top left drawer of the desk..."

"You bought something for *me*? Kind of *grasping*, don't you think?" And Tim plants *both* hands on his hips.

"I think that anyone would want to shower you with gifts."

A moue -- but Tim stalks back to the desk --

*Bends* over the drawer --

Bends one knee --

And the gaff he's wearing is precisely good enough to keep him from getting a wedgie, even in the torturous excuse for clothing he's wearing over it.

Lex gives up and grips himself. "Please. Open the drawer."

"Whatever," and Tim does it --

And stiffens again. He --

Damn --

He pulls out the collar first, turning and *snapping* it between his hands. He raises an eyebrow -- "Really, Lex?"

"You might enjoy it, darling --"

"I. Belong. To *no* one. Daddy."

"Please --"

"No."

"Please don't give me a kink for being called 'Daddy.'"

Tim -- coughs. And bites the tip of his tongue in an obvious attempt to hold back laughter which wouldn't *remotely* be in-character.

He -- makes Tim happy. The urge to shiver for that --

To smile and *claim* --

He can be still --

Except for his stroking *hand* --

"You're getting off on me laughing at you," Tim says, sneer *right* back on his face and in his voice.

"I'm getting *off*... on everything about you."

"Hmph," and Tim tosses the collar back over his shoulder. The scourge -- lighter than Mercy's and without the knots at the ends of the tails --

Tim tests the handle of the scourge between his teeth.

"Do you think you're *ready* for that, darling...?"

Tim's expression is nearly *murderous* --

Lex squeezes himself hard --

And Tim takes the scourge out of his mouth and drags the tails over his arms, his thighs, his *throat* --

"It's yours, Tim --"

"*Everything* is mine," Tim says -- and sets the scourge down on the desk. The only *other* thing in there is a note --

Which Tim reads before frowning slightly --

Giving him a suspicious look which would only look real were Tim at least three years *younger* --

And then Tim pulls the note out of the drawer. "'Check the closet,' Lex? No *please*?"

Lex rubs the head of his cock with his thumb. "I was hoping... that you'd take it as read."

Tim sneers *as* he stares at Lex's cock --

"Do you want it, darling?"

Tim's expression... deepens. And then he shrugs off the persona with a shiver. "Very much."

Lex moves his hand and lets Tim see him gripping the duvet --

Tim licks his *lips* --

"Do you want it more than you want what's in the closet?"

Tim laughs... and fans himself with the note. "I'm afraid of what's in the closet."

Lex blinks. "You don't need to wear it or even *like* it."

"I -- want to love it. For you."

"You're wearing the studs I gave you -- and not Oracle's."

"Yes --"

"You chose a purple *corset* to wear for me."

"Yes, but --"

"I don't *know* your tastes, yet, darling. Let me learn."

And Tim... licks his teeth, not his lips. But not in aggressive way.

"You don't want to ruin your lipstick?"

"I'm not familiar with the brand. Steph doesn't wear this one for me." 

"I am. It will stand up perfectly to most things you can do to it."

"Well, then." Tim licks his lips -- and smiles.

Lex breathes. "Please check the closet."

"I -- all right, Lex." And he walks -- not stalks -- back across the room, letting his hips have a *subtle* sway.

"Have I mentioned that you're beautiful? I can't remember."

Tim hums and gives him a *hot* look --

And Lex clutches at the duvet a little more.

"And you're sure I shouldn't just be coming over there."

"Oh, yes."

"Hmm. All right," Tim says, opening the closet -- and sighing.

Most of it is full of Lex's summer-weight suits, but...

A simple black evening gown, tasteful and conservative.

A short burgundy cocktail dress, sleeveless with a closed bodice and a high collar.

A black leather corset which bears far too strong a resemblance to both Black Canary's and Catwoman's 'uniforms,' but which is *actually* made for a male-bodied person --

"Lex..."

"Yes?"

"Do you actually *want* me in these?"

"Do you like any of them?"

"I like all of them, but..." Tim dips his head out of the closet. "They don't seem to be to *your* tastes."

Lex smiles and plants his right foot, resting his arm on his knee. "Didn't I mention something about you and exceptions...?"

Tim hums. "All right. I can't actually wear the corset anywhere but with you, because if I did, pictures of me in it would wind up circulated throughout the community in seconds. I'd be hearing about it until I was in my thirties -- assuming I lived that long."

"Don't --" But... he has to accept that, doesn't he. Accept Tim risking his *life* --

And Tim's expression is far too *soft* --

There's no *possibility* in his eyes -- Lex raises a hand. "Never mind. The evening gown?"

Tim continues to *look* at him --

"Tim. Please."

Tim nods and pulls the evening gown out into the light, eyeing the fall of it critically, stroking the silk... "I think Bruce would carry me to bed and make such sweet love to me that I'd have to stab him."

Lex snorts. "I'm familiar with that particular Bruce protocol."

Tim smiles at him sharply. "I think I'd like to see him carrying you."

"I -- of course he's still that strong." Lex makes a face. "No, thank you, darling. I'm *attached* to my dignity."

"Hn. I feel the same. Though I have no doubt in my mind that he could make me hard enough that I'd let him do it *anyway*." Tim turns the dress. "Backless is challenging when one needs to wear falsies."

"Not impossible, though. I first saw this design on a woman who'd had a double mastectomy -- and no ability to get the surgery."

Tim nods thoughtfully. "A certain amount of adhesive would, theoretically, do the trick. I'm not sure if I can be quite that trusting, though -- but I love it. It would give my hips a certain amount of curve."

"Private wear?"

Tim smiles. "Yes. Especially if you dance with me."

"Really."

"No...?"

"No, I'm absolutely fine with that. But very, very surprised that you'd want that with *me*."

Tim smiles *sharply*. "As opposed to with Bruce...?"

"He wouldn't have to dump a bowl of punch on *you*."

"No... but I'd have to be more comfortable with the idea of spending extended amounts of time in his strong, manly arms."

"You're going to let him fuck you... but not cuddle you."

"I... plan to be mostly unconscious after it happens. Hopefully, exhaustion will allow the cuddle to happen reasonably painlessly. It'll be like training."

Lex licks his lips.

"That was terrible, wasn't it."

"I... am simply going to bask in the knowledge that I've done relatively little to turn you off to the idea of being hugged by me."

"Hn. Good thought. The cocktail dress is perfect," Tim says, and hangs up the evening gown. "My mother would've loved it."

"And that's enough to make you love it?"

"Mm, no. The *lines* are enough to make me love it. I can look *aggressively* ambiguous in it and, as you may have noticed, that sort of thing appeals to me *highly*."

Lex hums. "I believe I feel positively stoned on my own acumen now."

"Something you're used to...?"

"Not with you, darling. What would you like to do with my cock?"

Tim purrs and closes the closet before leaning back against the door with his hands splayed. "Tease me...?"

"By fucking your thighs, perhaps...?"

Tim narrows his eyes. "Would you like that?"

"There are very, very few things I don't want to do with you --"

"Are you settling?"

"I'd rather fuck your ridiculously wonderful little ass --

"Then --"

"But if *you* settle, darling, I'd have to kill someone, and neither of us want that."

Tim's expression turns sour --

"I want you."

And sourness turns to heat as Tim stalks -- once more -- to the bed and crawls on, not stopping until he's close enough to *swallow* him --

"Tim."

Tim raises an eyebrow.

Lex laughs -- "Not... yet?"

Tim pulls back until just the head is between his lips -- and hums.

Lex grunts and feels himself leaking --

And then Tim hums again and licks him clean with focus, dedication, and -- perhaps -- malice aforethought. And then he pulls back. "Punish me?"

"For being a slut, darling?"

Tim growls. "I could work with that."

"Do you want to be punished... or do you want to be hurt?"

"Oh -- fuck. Ah. Hm." And Tim crawls and turns so that he's lying face-down over Lex's lap, bending his legs up and crossing them at the ankle.

Lex sighs. He can do *nothing* about the happiness -- and why should he do anything about it, at all? "Darling. How *much* pornography is in your life?"

"It... waxes and wanes. I tend to devour as many of the right sorts of images --"

"We'll come back to *that*."

"Hn. Of course. I fill my mind with them... and then put various heroes in the roles and positions."

"*Just* heroes?"

"There's one civilian I've managed to remain friends with for years... shallowly," and Tim grinds against Lex's thigh. "He's tall, lean, blond, kind, geeky, and patient. And he doesn't believe in Batman."

"Ah, Mr. Ives. Attractive enough. You had lunch with him two weeks ago."

"Mm-hm. My fantasies about him are... difficult. He can never know me."

"You thought the same about me."

"I was right," Tim says, and spreads his knees -- keeping his ankles crossed.

"You had a failure of imagination, darling," Lex says, and cups Tim's groin --

Tim sighs. "Do you blame me?"

"No, which makes things easier and harder. I... wanted you to tell me."

Tim hangs his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't."

Lex squeezes --

"Oh -- yes --"

"You shouldn't ever think you're not warm, darling --"

"To you. For *you* --"

"And others --"

"People who are *worth* it -- God, Lex, *please* stay worth it --"

"You'd miss me if I lost the thread...?"

Tim moans and works his hips. "Please."

Lex squeezes harder --

"*Fuck* --"

"I'd miss you, too, darling," Lex says, and smiles ruefully. "And I'd miss *me* even more. Drop your legs."

Tim does so... and spreads himself wider.

"Let's see how much this leather will hurt my hand, hmm...?"

"Good -- I love your hands."

"Punishment would have me taking them away from you."

Tim grunts -- "Please, no."

Lex sighs for the feel of his cock *yelling* a little -- no, he can please them both. He scratches paths over Tim's ass, crossing and recrossing them --

Tim shivers and arches up --

"Down, darling."

"Nnh -- I. All right," and Tim eases himself down just as if he *is* hard under those clothes. Somehow.

Lex scratches between Tim's legs --

"Oh --"

Scratches Tim's *thighs* --

"Oh -- God. That shouldn't be -- ah."

"Affecting?"

Tim laughs. "In a word, yes."

"I disagree. This sort of thing truly is standard teasing," and Lex scratches *harder* --

"You... could offer a remedial course?"

"There isn't a single virgin -- or recent virgin -- more worth my time than you."

"I believe you've just jinxed yourself --"

"Superstition is a *terrible* personality flaw --"

"Hn. Lex. I've *fought* actual undead people."

Lex pauses. Frowns -- "That's offensive."

Tim snickers at him.

"It *is* --"

"So was the smell," and Tim works his hips in a tight circle, lifts his ass and *wiggles* it --

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Is it working?"

Lex presses his thumb to the top of Tim's cleft and drags it *down* --

"*Hnh* -- oh, Lex --"

"Darling. Down."

"*Fuck* --" And Tim drops --

And drops to his elbows --

And hangs his head. "Please, Lex. Please hurt me -- oh."

Tim... had *absolutely* felt Lex's cock twitch. "All right, darling. Here," Lex says, and begins to spank --

"Oh -- oh -- *oh* --"

"Do you like it?"

"I -- *nnh* -- oh, *yes*..."

Lex licks his lips. "Have you done it to yourself?"

"Too -- too *loud* --"

"Not even for your cock? Your sac?"

Tim groans and pushes up with his ass --

"*Down*."

"*Lex*!"

"You'll get *precisely* what you need, darling. Trust me --"

"I *do* -- oh, fuck, please, Lex, I *do*!"

Lex grunts and promises his cock touch, affection, the chance to *bury* itself in Tim if it just lets him cope *now* --

"God -- oh, *God* --"

"You're just realizing that?"

"*Fuck* --"

"If it makes you -- mm -- feel any better --"

"Oh -- Lex, don't *stop*!"

"I *won't* darling. I promise you --"

"*Hnh* --"

"So I *should* spank you here?" And Lex *pats* between Tim's legs --

And Tim growls -- and grinds. It can't possibly be doing anything for him --

But that's not the point. He needs the motion. He needs, perhaps, to *give* --

And so it's only reasonable that Lex is sweating, panting, *needing* --

"I love you, darling. And I -- will give you everything you allow," Lex says, and begins to spank Tim in earnest, taking Tim's growls and pants for his own --

Taking them and *wanting* -- no, focus.

"As I was saying --"

"*Please* -- wait, no, keep *talking*."

Lex blinks and *squeezes* Tim's ass. "Is my voice turning you on?"

"Something -- something Pavlovian..."

"Well, darling, we aim to... hmm... *program*," Lex says, and spanks Tim *harder* --

And now Tim is very clearly trying to *avoid* making actual words. It's *highly* intimidating, and the only way this could be better is if Lex could see his eyes --

His lovely, frightening eyes --

Lex *claws* Tim's ass --

"*Nuh* --"

"Oh, darling, darling..." Lex breathes through the needy and *prolonged* twitching of his cock -- there. "As I was saying -- please don't be upset by the fact that you're surprising yourself -- "

"More -- please *more* --"

Harder between Tim's legs, then --

And Tim screams --

And screams --

And growls himself quiet as he claws the duvet, as he *writhes* --

He wants more of Lex. He wants --

Lex licks his lips. "You're human, Tim. You are... there are certain truths which remain... let's say 'self-evident' -- "

Tim laughs and *croons* --

So -- Lex shivers. "You're *going* to surprise yourself. You're *going* to find yourself faced with facts you never predicted. You're going to turn corners in your life and walk right into yourself."

"*Lex* --"

"Yes?"

"No -- ohn -- *please* --"

"More?"

"I *need* you -- *more* --"

And -- fuck, but he *aches* --

*Needs* --

But he can *focus*, and spank Tim *faster* --

"*Ahn* --!"

"You're going to do that -- *all* of that -- because you're intelligent, and open-minded, and *just* cynical enough to *keep* turning rocks over to study what lies beneath them. You... your mind is as beautiful as the rest of you, as *perfect* --" Lex growls and flips Tim over onto his back --

"Oh -- *Lex* --"

"*Yes*, darling, I -- get these *off* --"

Tim fumbles, yanks at the laces --

"All right, no, *I'll* do it --"

And Tim laughs and stretches his arms above his head --

Arches and *spreads* --

And Lex growls and *wills* his hands to stop shaking, his fingers to *work* --

He's *not* going to cut these perfectly lovely little shorts off -- oh --

There. *There*, and loosening them makes Tim cry out and *writhe* --

"Stay *still*, darling --"

"Nuh -- oh, Lex, *please* --"

"Only fools and *boring* people stop surprising themselves, Tim. *You* will never be either --"

"*Lex* -- I mean. Ah --" Tim shakes his head and laughs -- and then kicks his legs up and rolls up onto his elbows and shoulder blades.

Well. "I suppose that *will* make stripping you easier. *Thank* you."

A *breathless* laugh --

Tim shakes his head again --

And Lex tugs the shorts and gaff off together --

Tim's cock and sac *and* ass are all reddened -- and his cock is hardening and *thickening* as Lex watches. He --

Lex smiles and grabs the STARslide. "I'm going to fuck you, darling --"

Tim moans and drops his legs, turns, and shifts until he's on his back with his head near the foot of the bed, his booted feet planted, and his legs spread.

"Well. I was *going* to say something about just using my fingers --"

"*Please*!"

"You want to take this home to *Bruce* --"

"Oh -- *fuck*," and Tim beats at the bed with his fists --

And it's not remotely fair to expect critical thought from an increasingly *less*-repressed seventeen-year-old boy.

As opposed to a forty-three year old man. A -- good man? Certainly, he can give it a *try*.

"No regrets, darling," Lex says, slicking his fingers *quickly* and pushing in with two --

"*Yes*!"

"No regrets, and..." Lex swallows and shakes his head. "Just this."

"No -- oh, no --"

"*Enjoy* it --"

"I *do*, I --" And then Tim *drapes* his legs over Lex's shoulders --

"Do you like that?"

Tim pants and nods, licks his lips --

"Try not to kick me with those boots -- hm. Knives in them?"

"*Yes*!"

"I love you, I love you --" Lex hisses between his teeth and uses his free hand to squeeze and molest Tim's shaved sac --

Squeezes *hard* --

Crooks his fingers --

Tim screams and does his best to *yank* Lex closer with his legs --

"*Tim* -"

"I'm *close*!"

Lex *grunts* -- "Really."

Tim nods *frantically* --

"All right, I --"

"Lex. *Fuck* me!"

"With --"

"With your *penis*!"

And it's *extremely* tempting to see if he can make Tim say 'cock' first -- but apparently not tempting enough to make it possible for him to do anything *but* pull out --

"*Lex*!"

-- and grab the condoms. If -- if he just does this *quickly* --

If he makes *excuses* --

*Fuck* --

But Tim is sprawled on his bed --

Tim is gripping -- not stroking -- his cock --

Tim is spreading his legs to an absolutely *insane* degree --

And the condom is on --

And Lex is *stroking* himself -- all right, yes, if he gets *himself* closer --

That won't take very long, at *all*, and laughing at himself feels much better than the alternative --

Until Tim opens his eyes -- his lashes are *clumped* -- and stares at him with *anguish* --

Lex groans and pours on more lubricant, shoves *back* in with his fingers -- "Darling, it's all *right* --"

"*Hnh* -- ohn -- *better* --"

"Yes, *that* -- I --" Lex shakes his head and wills himself to have just a little less stamina, staying power, *something* -- "I won't leave you *raw* --"

"Just do it, fuck me, *fuck* me --"

"Let me *stretch* you --"

Tim shouts and flexes open --

Clenches *viciously* hard --

"*Lex*!"

"Fuck, but you're --" Lex licks his lips and spreads his fingers as much as he can --

Tim growls and *pinches* his cock --

"*Tim* --"

"Not -- not until you're *in* me!"

All right, fuck this. Just --

Lex pulls out --

"*Yes*!"

Yanks Tim's *left* leg back over his shoulder --

Tim pulls the right back to his *chest* --

*Fuck* --

"All right, darling, let's do our *level* best to --"

"*Fuck* me!"

"That, too," Lex says, slipping in --

In --

Ah, fuck, so *hot* inside -- "Tim --"

But Tim is groaning and clenching over and --

Fuck, so --

Lex pants and holds *on* -- and then remembers that he wants to do the exact *opposite*. "Fast -- fast and easy, darling," Lex says, and replaces Tim's hand on his cock with his own. "Come screaming," and he starts to stroke --

"*Lex* --"

Starts to fuck --

"Oh -- *ohn* --"

Faster, then, because he wants that sound rhythmic, staccato --

"Ah -- oh, Lex -- *Lex* --"

He'll take that, too. He'll take -- fuck, everything, everything *possible* -- "I *want* you --"

"You love me, you love me --"

"I *do* --"

"Can't --"

"You *can*, Tim -- *fuck* --" And Tim has *exactly* enough strength in his legs -- *one* leg -- to make Lex overbalance and fall onto his hand --

To make Tim scream for the angle-shift, for -- is this even hitting him in the right places anymore? Is it --

But Tim is tossing his head and staring at *nothing* even though his eyes are wide --

Tim is shouting his *name* --

And Lex had stopped stroking. Just -- bad *form*. He uses a tossing motion of the sort which had always made Bruce sound like a bull mistakenly attached to a milking machine --

And which makes Tim shake and jerk and *writhe* --

Fuck, fuck --

Not hard. Not *hard* --

Fucking hell, he's *holding* Tim's legs bent --

No one should be this *flexible* without being a fitness freak or --

"Oh, *God*, Lex, so *good* --"

Lex squeezes his eyes shut -- no. Not that, not --

He has to see every fucking *moment*, has to get Tim's legs around his *waist* --

Tim growls and *clutches* at him with his arms *and* his legs --

"*Leave* marks, darling --"

And now he's being clawed, bruised, *gripped* by those bony little knees, clever little fingers --

"You're so -- so *small* --"

And that was more of a *yowl* than anything else, indignant and pleased, at once --

"Terribly -- terribly sorry, darling, you --"

And that was the *unmistakable* sound of a knife being twisted out of a sheath --

"*Please* don't stab me, Tim, it -- my Virtues would be -- incredibly pissy --"

Tim laughs --

Cries out --

Claws Lex's shoulders -- and focuses on Lex for a hot, *desperate* moment that ends with them *both* shouting for Tim's clenches --

Tim's random, *powerful* --

Tim is coming all over Lex's *chest* --

Tim is screaming -- and a part of him has apparently decided that it would be a good idea to crush Lex's *ribcage* --

Lex is fine with that. Lex is *absolutely* fine with that, because Tim is taking all of him, loving him with his *body* if nothing else --

*Yes* --

And when Tim collapses and moans, Lex feels *safe* enough to put his legs back on his shoulders --

"Oh, *Lex*..."

And grip *Tim's* shoulders, push them down --

"Holding -- holding me --"

"Holding you *down* --"

And Tim's smile is vicious, bright and beautiful, wet and *sharp* --

"You're *warning* me --"

"Oh -- mm. Oh, yes."

Lex groans --

"Are you *ready*, Daddy...?"

"*Tim* --"

"Yes or no."

Lex growls and *grips* Tim -- "The *answer* is always *yes* --"

"Hn. Here."

"*Fuck* --"

"No...?"

"*Tim* -- *fuck* --"

"Mm. I think I like this game," Tim says, and clenches again --

"Tim -- *Tim* --"

"Rrr. I think I like it a lot..."

"Don't -- don't make yourself *raw* --"

"I *want* you, Lex --"

"I *know*, I --"

"*Faster*, Lex."

"*Nnh* -- you little *bitch* --"

"*Mm* -- your bitch...?"

"*Please*!"

And Tim looks *delighted*, flushed and thrilled and --

Fuck, what does *he* look like now? Probably -- probably fucking *demented* -- "Tim, I can't --"

"You *can*, Lex --"

"I can't fucking *stop* --"

"Can you fuck me harder...?"

And there's only --

The only possible *response* -- is to roll them over, losing Tim's ass for a *painful*, *tragic* moment --

"Oh, *Lex*."

But Tim is perfect, beautiful, *determined*, and guides Lex back in --

All the way *in* -- "Ready, Daddy...?"

"Tim, *please* --"

And Tim growls and *rides* him, smiling like Lex is a *meal* --

Clawing Lex's *chest* --

"You. Feel. *Amazing*..."

Lex groans and tries to keep his *eyes* from rolling back in his head --

"You feel... oh, *Lex*. I think it's *better* now that I've come."

"You... *Tim*." Wonderful, he's a caveman --

And Tim is *grinning* as he bounces on Lex's *cock* --

Pinching Lex's *nipples* --

"Lex, Lex -- *mmm*. It's just that you're so *thick*..."

Lex pants and *bucks* --

"What's that, Lex? *Harder*?"

Lex growls and beats his head against the bed --

Tim *laughs* -- and clenches on every bounce. Every --

Every fucking --

"Mm -- *mm* -- *Lex*!"

Lex tries to *breathe*, to think, to do anything other than grip those slim little hips --

"Don't *stop* me, Lex --"

"*Never* -- *fuck* --" And he can't control his own hips, anymore, can't control the sounds coming out of his mouth, can't do anything but buck and shout --

"*Yes*, Lex!"

And come like he's dying, like he's losing everything --

*Giving* everything to his *love* --

Ah, Bruce, I'm *sorry* --

But that's a lie, that's --

He can't be sorry for *anything* that feels this hot, this blinding, this *sweet* --

*Yes* --

Oh --

And Lex feels himself collapsing on his back, losing something like internal cohesion -- it doesn't matter. He has the best boy in the world on his cock, and all is -- very well, indeed.

Especially since Tim is still *clenching* around him, still working him like a *bitch* --

Which --

Lex absolutely is for this. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to getting thoroughly laid by a perfect, perfect boy. And so --

Lex opens his eyes so he can *see* the boy in question --

The *person* in question --

"Darling. I love you."

Tim smiles broadly and *lazily* -- and clenches again.

Lex *grunts* -- "You can't take it with you."

"Mmm... maybe have a cast done...? You *are* going to have to go back to Metropolis eventually."

"Come with me."

Tim shakes his head.

Lex sighs. "All right, I'm buying Gotham a metahuman to do something about all the crime."

Tim snorts. "Lex."

"What? It's only logical."

"And when the metahuman criminals show up...?"

"Shoot them in the *head*."

Tim snorts -- and coughs. "Lex."

Lex folds his arms behind his head and raises his eyebrows.

"I... won't say I've never been tempted... but no."

"Then don't come crying to *me* when one of your recidivists breaks out and does something horrid."

"Lex."

"*What*?"

Tim smiles. "Like you wouldn't love it if I came to pillow my head on your manly chest." And Tim traces patterns in the sweat on the manly chest in question.

He -- "I *hate* you."

Tim's smile grows significantly more... rapacious.

Hm. "I'm rubbing off on you."

Tim blinks.

"I... am *influencing* you."

Tim looks horrified.

*Lex* smiles. "Son."

"*Daddy*."

"I -- all right, no, that's still horrible. I'm sorry."

Tim crosses his arms over his chest. His corset is -- slightly -- crooked. "You'd better be."

"Darling --"

"*Yes*?"

Lex sighs and licks his teeth. "Move in with me."

"And Mercy -- who wants to murder me; Hope -- who wants to reprogram me; and Prudence -- who won't let me be your naughty secretary?"

"Every family has their moments of friction."

Tim laughs -- and coughs. "Lex."

"It's possible that you'd be allowed to be my secretary in nineteen *seventy*-two, you know."

"I wear bellbottoms for *no* man."

"Undercover assignment?"

Tim makes a face. "Hippies are rarely that much of a crime problem in Gotham, Lex. And if they were, Steph would insist on beating them herself."

Lex blinks. "She's conservative?"

"Very, in some ways."

"And she puts up with *you*?"

Tim traces a circle around Lex's left nipple. "We've learned to discuss politics as rarely as possible."

"I suppose that *is* one way of doing things."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Compromise is an extremely helpful thing to learn when your lovers aren't your property, Lex."

"Darling, if you make me compromise any more, I'll have to take your last name."

"Hmm, 'Lex Drake.' I like it."

"Marry me."

"No."

Lex sighs. "Let me adopt you."

"Still no."

"Give me DI."

"Maybe."

Lex blinks. "Really."

Tim smiles and tilts his head to the side. "Keep showing me you're worth it... and you can *share* it with Lucius. With Lucius having the proverbial whip hand, of course."

Lex opens his mouth -- and closes it again. Wait -- "Does *he* know?"

"He must. If he didn't, he would've taken WE away from Bruce years ago. As it is... well. He's a master at plausible deniability. My theory is that he doesn't think about it *very* hard."

"He's willing to let Bruce get away with endangering children."

Tim closes his eyes and tilts his head back --

"Let me mark your throat?"

"I'll think about it," Tim says, and meets Lex's eyes again. "I think... that Bruce's relationship with Lucius became very, very strained when Jason was murdered."

"Why didn't Bruce -- no."

"Hm?"

"No, I already know the answer to that question. Bruce wouldn't even kill the man who murdered his *parents*. Bruce wouldn't let anyone *else* do it *for* him," Lex says, and smiles ruefully. "And he made me understand why."

"For a little while."

Lex inclines his head. "Tell me how he mended things with Lucius?"

"Well... this is all theory."

"I'll take it."

Tim smiles wryly. "No one but the Joker and assorted -- dead -- henchmen could say, for sure, exactly what happened in that warehouse, but the fact remains that Sheila Haywood's body showed signs of having been restrained. That fact -- and the existence of fragments of body armor scattered around the scene -- were kept relatively quiet, but the information was there for the asking. As was the information that Haywood was Jason's biological mother."

"Fuck."

"Yes."

"He was trying to save his *mother*?"

"Wires from the bomb -- and hemp from the ropes around Haywood -- were embedded in Jason's hands."

Lex closes his eyes and growls.

"Lex --"

"I'm angry with Bruce for not killing that *freak*."

"You're angry at him for having the courage of his convictions."

"*Yes* -- no," Lex says, and moves one arm so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. For a moment. And then he sits up --

"Oh -- ooh --"

He kisses Tim deeply, cupping his face and holding him *still* --

Tim licks Lex's tongue, sucks it and hums, moans --

Fucking -- perfect. Perfect. Lex pulls back. "Let me corrupt you."

"If I let you do that any more, I'll have to take *your* last name."

"It's a terrible last name for a long line of ridiculously terrible people. I *know*. I'm *one* of them. But..."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Yes, Lex?"

"Let me take care of your recidivism problem."

"*Lex* --"

"*Listen* to me, darling. Do you honestly believe that anyone -- anyone at all -- could relieve the Joker of his insanity problem *without* the judicious use of a bullet?"

"You've *worked* with him --"

"And I feel *sick* about it, I --"

"Lex. Your guilt speaks *well* for you, but *only* up to a *point*," Tim says, and actually gives him a *stern* look --

Lex growls and grips Tim's hips. "There are only so many ways I *can* make amends --"

"Murder *isn't* one of them --"

"Stop parroting Bruce's beliefs! *You* think some people *deserve* to die."

Tim narrows his eyes. "And that's why I let *better* people make the *decisions*."

"Darling --"

"Lex, don't --"

"*Darling*. How many innocent people will die the next time he gets out, hmm? Or the next time Harvey loses the thread? Or the next time that *Isley* creature gets wet for an endangered *weed*?"

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Or the next time you decide you're above the law...?"

"I -- " Lex takes a breath --

He doesn't *clutch* Tim's hips --

But. "I feel strongly that we shouldn't be having this conversation while my cock is in you."

"We have to have it *sometime* --"

"Tell me how you do it, darling."

Tim frowns. "Do what?"

"*Subsume* your beliefs."

"I *don't* --"

"*Reject* your personal morality --"

"It's not *morality* --"

Lex covers Tim's mouth with two fingers. "Is it what you believe in? Is it how you define right and wrong? Is it how you would organize the world were that in your power?"

Tim *yanks* Lex's hand away -- "I'm not *right*!"

"Tim --"

"Other -- other people have considered these questions *deeply* --"

"And so have you."

"Lex --"

"Did you ever meet Jason, Tim?"

"N-no. But that's not --"

"Did you want to?"

"Of *course* I did! He was -- he was brave, and beautiful, and he laughed -- sometimes, when he laughed, it was like I *did* know him, and I wanted -- that's not *important*!"

Lex squeezes Tim's hand. "Because you're not important?"

"It's not that I don't think --"

"Forgive me, darling. Is it because you're not *as* important?"

Tim frowns *deeply* and turns away from him --

Lex never *wants* that --

He twines his fingers with Tim's and squeezes *firmly*. "Tim."

Tim doesn't look at him. He doesn't --

Lex leans in and kisses Tim's cheek, rests his forehead against Tim's temple -- "Tim."

"I -- know what you're going to say."

"I know you do, darling."

"I think. I think it's enough for tonight," Tim says, and turns to kiss Lex.

Lex moans and strokes Tim's hair with his free hand, squeezes Tim's hand and tugs --

He wants --

He *wants* --

Tim turns out of the kiss --

Lex groans and kisses his way to Tim's throat --

*Yanks* his head back and *bites* --

"Oh, *fuck*...."

And sucks. Just -- just over his pulse point --

And Tim cups the back of Lex's head with both hands. There's the usual sense of skin-crawling *discomfort* for that --

But there are exceptions to every rule, and it's impossible to get away from the fact that he's being clutched --

*Held* --

Tim wants *just* this --

And he can have it. All of it.

"Ohn -- oh, Lex --"

I love you, darling --

"Oh, that feels so *good* --"

You're *important*. *More* important --

"*Ahn* --"

Biting again, he's -- no. Lex sucks kisses across Tim's throat, licks up to Tim's ear --

Tim *moans* -- and clenches around him.

Lex shivers and tries to tell himself that Tim will *want* to stay -- no. A part of him *will* want to stay. But not enough. Not against Bruce's *pull*. Lex takes a deep breath and leans back, away --

Tim makes a questioning sound.

"Oh, darling. I... believe it's time for you to go."

"Do you want me to?"

"Of course not. But I'll want you to go even less a few minutes from now," Lex says, and smiles.

Tim narrows his eyes -- but not in irritation. There's hunger in his eyes, determination --

And, abruptly, Lex is on his back and Tim is pulling off in order to pin him more effectively.

"Lex."

"I wasn't planning to try to get away, darling."

"Don't -- don't ever let me depress you again."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"I *mean* it."

"Tim --"

"I. I think I love you."

Lex freezes -- "Tim."

Tim bites his lip -- and his blush looks positively *volcanic*. "Lex... I. I do have to go --"

"I *know* that --"

"It's just. I also have to come back."

"You don't have to do *anything* --"

"I need you. I need you and I -- I think you're actually *good* for me," Tim says, and laughs *painfully*. And that --

"Stranger things have happened, darling. To *you*. *Recently*, probably --"

"Don't let me depress you."

Lex -- swallows. "Tim... don't. Don't rush into anything --"

Tim looks at him.

"All right, yes, that *is* ridiculous, but I'm also middle-aged and *know significant portions of my own mind*. You couldn't be more my type without a vagina and a *gun*."

Tim -- coughs. And raises an eyebrow.

"As you may have noticed, the lack of those things is anything but a deal-breaker."

"All right. Small breasts?"

"*You*-sized breasts. Meaning whatever size makes you feel most beautiful."

"Superman has developed breast implants."

"What -- *no*!"

Tim smiles. "I'm going to take him up on the offer. They feel incredible."

"What if they *colonize* you?"

"Then I, for one, am happy to welcome my new alien overbreast."

Lex scowls --

"I love that look on your face."

"Because you're a terrible *person*!"

"I love making you yell at me."

"Because you're also a *masochist*!"

"I love the fact that you *know* me -- and still want me --"

"*Love* you, you ass --"

"I love. I love the fact that you're mine. And I'll. I don't let people. I'm not good at." Tim swallows. "I need you. And I won't let you go."

"What does that mean?"

"Ah... mostly that I'm going to get increasingly obsessive with regards to you. And that. You do own me. A part of me."

"*Tim* --"

"I don't really work in other --" Tim shakes his head and kneels up. "I'm in serious trouble, Lex. I mean, I know that. I know that *perfectly* well, and, really, I'm incredibly obedient as a general rule --"

"Since *when* --"

"Ask Bruce sometime," and Tim starts unlacing the corset. "Do you mind if I leave this here?"

"Of course not --"

"It's just -- it's yours now. Just like me."

Lex -- breathes. "How will you be punished for this?"

"Yelling, recrimination, guilt -- we're just another family, when you get right down to... to the heart of things. I." Tim shakes his head and keeps working on the corset. "I was the *obedient* one, and now I'm not, and that's one of the things that frightens me."

"Don't *let* it frighten you --"

"Don't let me depress you," Tim says, and raises an eyebrow. And shrugs off the corset, revealing welts from the boning.

"You -- let me tie that too tightly."

"I like it this way."

"While I was fucking you --"

"I could barely breathe. It was wonderful."

"Fuck --"

"Hn. Lex. I can hold my breath for nearly four minutes."

"*Brain* damage, Tim --"

"Really, really fantastic orgasms, Lex."

"Don't make me choke you in the *bad* way!"

Tim smiles rapaciously again --

Licks the *edges* of his teeth --

"Wear that lipstick all the time."

"Would you like to see me make out with my girlfriend while we're *both* wearing it...?"

"*Yes*."

"Too bad. She'd murder me, and then feel very, very guilty. We can't have that," Tim says, sitting on Lex's thighs and kicking his feet forward to work on the boots.

"Please tell me you'll be this much of a bitch to your family," Lex says, sitting up on his elbows and cupping Tim's ankle -- "Wait. When did you manage to get the blade back in the boot?"

"While I was riding you --"

"Fucking *hell* --"

"And -- I'm going to give it a try. But only if they push me in the right ways."

"The *me* ways, darling...?"

"Hn. Maybe," Tim says, and when he's down to just the garters and stockings, he stands up on the bed and -- poses.

Fuck. "You couldn't be more incredible --"

"I love you."

Lex closes his eyes and breathes. And then he opens his eyes again and enjoys the view. "I love you so much that I don't even particularly mind the fact that a part of me is broken and bleeding under your incredibly exciting boots --"

Tim snorts. "Lex."

"And you *love* it, you bitch. Now, please, *go* let Bruce fuck your ass out of shape."

"How do you feel about me wearing these home under my jeans?"

With the gaff on, that would be... "He deserves you."

Tim smiles ruefully. "He pretended to not be the boy you fell in love with for a very, very long time -- save for when Jason was alive. He's stopped that entirely."

"What made Jason different -- no, I'm not asking you any more questions tonight --"

"My best guess? Jason reminded him of -- Harvey. Helplessly."

Well -- fuck. "That would, in fact, be sufficient. And -- you joining WE?"

"I'm Bruce's heir. Or rather -- I'm *Batman's* heir," Tim says, and steps nimbly off the bed --

"You're a foot shorter than he is!"

"Not quite," and he pinches two fingers together. "Neither Dick nor Cassandra want it -- or everything it would entail."

"And you *do*?"

"Hn. Sometimes? With absolutely all of myself," and Tim starts dressing in his street clothes. "Including the parts of me which are absolutely terrified."

Lex sits up further and turns to face Tim properly. "All right, leaving aside the insanity of Bruce deciding a teenager is right for his *vocation* --"

"I'm a very, very good detective --"

"You didn't even know I was in love with you!"

Tim coughs. "Ah -- hm. Go on?"

Lex glares -- no, no, he can focus. And breathe. "Why do you *need* to join WE?"

"You'd rather I join LexCorp?"

"*Yes*. The world of business *needs* more minds like yours."

"I can't actually argue with that, being as how I'm moral enough to know when I should let more moral people make the decisions," Tim says, and *looks* at him.

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"Hn. Anyway. No one else in the family is remotely suited for it. Barbara could *learn* to be suited for it, but that would be one too many *public* connections to the family. Dick will take the Foundation if we have to beat him until he submits, Cassandra will learn to stop maiming paparazzi and start acting like the heiress she is, Steph will stop cursing and punching me when I suggest she take a more active role in being part of the family... and I'll have a healthy, professional, and platonic relationship with the delectable Lucius Fox, Jr."

"He is rather frighteningly attractive."

"Oh, yes," Tim says, and shrugs his shirt back on. "He has a rather perfect blend of his father's coloring and his mother's powerfully sculpted features."

"Your type?"

"One among many," and Tim buttons his shirt quickly and deftly. "But it's really all dependent on my letting Bruce adopt me."

"Which you still haven't decided to do."

Tim smiles wryly and pulls on his jeans. "I have. I just don't want to admit it."

Lex narrows his eyes. "But... he deserves you?"

"*Yes*, Lex. I just don't --" Tim shakes his head. "It's spitting on my father's grave."

"Not if *you* bring DI into the WE fold... or is it that important to you to cement the Fox family's loyalty for generations to come?"

"You're not even paying lip service to the idea of gratitude, are you."

Lex raises an eyebrow.

"No, of course you shouldn't." Tim sighs and pulls on his riding boots. "Bruce may not be a professional drunk, but he still doesn't have the *time* to give WE even half the attention it deserves. Without the Foxes, it would all go to hell. You *know* that."

"I counted on just that for my takeover attempt, but Bruce decided to be less of an idiot at just the right time..."

"And Batman vastly enjoys intimidating people... like the man you used to be."

Lex inclines his head again. "Darling... sooner or later, the younger Lucius -- or his sister, or his other sister -- will *realize* that they owe nothing to the Wayne legacy and act like *actual* businesspeople.

"They really are quite a noble family --"

"With Lucius, Sr. as the patriarch? Absolutely. But the man is in his *late* sixties now, and has issues with hypertension --"

Tim snorts --

"Am I *not* supposed to keep up with that sort of thing?"

"You're supposed," Tim says, and uses the mirror in his makeup kit to neaten his hair, "to be *precisely* who you are. Always. Daddy."

"Please don't give me a kink for that."

Tim shows his teeth.

Lex sighs and stands, moving to cup Tim's chin. "You look perfect -- would you ever grow your hair out?"

"It's rather flat and lifeless once it has any length whatsoever."

Lex nods thoughtfully. That would be terrible for a boy like Tim, who needs to express some measure of his personality with his body and accessories... Lex strokes his ears. "A favor, Tim?"

"Mm?"

"Two favors, actually. One, never agree to doing anyone a favor without hearing what it is first?"

Tim smiles rather *darkly* -- "I never do."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Not even for Dick Grayson? Your girlfriend?"

Tim blinks -- "Hm."

Lex hums. "I'm not telling you to hold yourself *back*, darling. But... don't ever paint yourself into any corners."

"Because that's your job?"

"No, darling. Because it's *your* job to be free to be *exactly* as much of a bitch as you are. You *transcend* when you're free, and I'd like to see you do that every day for the rest of my life. And, since I intend to clone myself..." Lex raises an eyebrow.

"Hn. Forever and ever and ever?"

"I have far too much to do for *one* lifetime. And so do you."

"Planning to clone *me*, Lex...?"

"It's the rational thing to do, considering what you choose to *do* with your nights."

"You just want a Tim without any scars."

Lex narrows his eyes. "Darling, I will take a hunting knife to your clone *myself* if you *want* me to."

Tim blinks -- and shifts.

"Oh. You didn't know you had that kink? With *your* background?"

"I -- hm. Perhaps we'll just discuss that later," Tim says, and leans in to kiss Lex's jaw. "The other favor?"

"Take the studs home... and wear them sometime when you *don't* plan to see me?"

"Hn. Marking your territory...?"

"Oh, yes. You're mine... to a certain extent," and Lex strokes Tim's lower lip.

Tim bites Lex's fingertip. Hard.

"Yes?"

"Yes," Tim says. "But for now..."

Lex nods and moves to hand Tim the jewelry box... and his *other* jewelry. "Suggest that she work with platinum for you."

Tim makes a face.

"No...? It would work brilliantly with your eyes."

"I've had to brutalize far too many people wearing far too much platinum over the years."

"Not gold?"

"Not in Gotham. The aesthetic is somewhat different here than it is in other cities," and Tim slips in Oracle's studs and fastens the necklace -- and stiffens.

And closes his eyes --

And shakes his head. "It's time for me to go."

"The recrimination has begun?"

"Oh, yes."

Lex opens his mouth --

"*Don't* worry, Lex -- I plan on standing my ground."

But you're still going *back* to those people -- no, not that. Lex nods one more time and strokes Tim's cheek with the back of his hand.

Tim purrs. "I'll call you tomorrow. Call *me* if you have to leave abruptly. Please."

"Of course," Lex says, and steps back.

Tim parts his lips -- and then turns and walks out with the subtle hip-sway Lex now knows means he's feeling *quite* positive about life -- and the people who feel positively about him.

Lex hums and forces himself not to *follow* --

Forces himself back to *bed* --

Tim's scent is... wonderful.

The deep and terrifyingly *neat* slash in the sheets and mattress is even better.

And...

And. Why *not* annoy the world's goodie-goodies even more tonight?

Lex picks up the phone and dials --

"'lo?"

Lex smiles. "Did I wake you, Superboy?"

"Dude, you're totally calling me again. Uh. No, you didn't wake me. I mean, I was sleeping, but not *sleeping*. And *really* not sleeping-sleeping."

He... is going to get used to his son sooner rather than later. Still -- "Would you explain that?"

"Uh. Uh. You sure?"

Intriguing... "Very."

"Heh, okay. See, there's the *sleeping* I do when I'm actually tired, and that happens every other night or so. So, like, tomorrow or the next day. And then there's the sleeping-sleeping, which is too fucking scary, and it drops my aura -- you really gotta fix that for the next clone, Luthor, like seriously -- and it happens when I'm *wiped*. Like, if I've been fighting one of your pet supervillains or something."

"I... am doing something about those individuals who haven't already been incarcerated."

"Uh. Do I wanna *know* what you're doing?"

Lex smiles. "Making sure the nearest police and military agencies have the firepower to remove them from the board. Legally."

"So -- I'm blinking. Okay. Cool. Anyway, there's the sleeping. And that -- heh. It pretty much only happens after I come my brains out."

Lex blinks more. That's -- unexpected. And *interesting*. "You're capable of dozing?"

"Oh, yeah. I totally taught myself how. It's awesome. Really clears my head."

"*More* than an orgasm?"

"Well -- sort of? It's different. Like, coming really hard blows my whole brain out. Just -- *whoosh*. Sleeping -- dozing -- like, rubs my brain down with those crazy massage oils the Bats all use -- I think Batman actually *makes* them -- and then there are, like, cushions and shit."

Lex nods and sits back against the headboard. "Would you say it's like meditation?"

"Hunh? I guess? I mean, Robin tried to teach me how to meditate, but I pretty much just kept drifting off and thinking about sex. Can't really reach nirvana when you're rock hard, you know?"

Lex thinks of Tim bouncing on his cock... "I disagree."

Superboy snorts. "Meaning *you* just got some. Fuck, I miss Wonder Girl. Hey, was it that Hope chick? She's fucking smoking hot."

"You have excellent taste --"

"I *totally* do --"

"-- but Hope is, unfortunately, asexual."

"Uh. No fucking at *all*?"

"I'm afraid not. She is, however, an excellent conversationalist, a *very* good writer, and one of the single best cuddlers I've ever met."

"You *cuddle*?"

"Every day, if at all possible. I am, in fact, a primate, Superboy."

"Uh. Am I?"

Oh... "Yes, in part."

"So... I mean."

"Yes, Superboy?"

"Uh. I mean. Sometimes humans seem straight-up crazy, Luthor. Seriously."

"How so?"

"Okay, like. How often do you fuck?"

"As I was telling Tim, I haven't gone without sexual activity with someone I -- at the very least -- *liked* for more than two weeks since I was seventeen or so."

"You... talk to Tim about that."

"About everything I can --"

"*Are* you boning him?"

Lex closes his eyes and smiles. "Yes."

"Jesus. Uh."

"And... I figured out his secret, Superboy. I know he's Robin, and that Bruce Wayne -- whom I dated briefly when we were in high school -- is Batman --"

"Look, you're not getting *anything* out of me, Luthor --"

"Of course not," Lex says, and crosses his legs at the ankle. "I'd rather talk about you right now."

"Uh. Uh. Seriously?"

"Yes."

"I mean -- I really need to tell Robin that you're after his identity. I mean, I have to."

"Would you like to break off to call him now?"

"Since when are you --" Superboy blows out a breath. "Yeah, wait, I'll call you back."

"All right. Until then," Lex says, and hangs up.

And waits.

And berates himself for not getting Tim to speak *honestly* about the Magrittes and Eschers --

How much *does* he like that sort of thing?

Art in general?

Does Superboy enjoy art? Hm. He'll ask --

The phone rings, and Lex picks it up. "Yes, Superboy?"

"Uh. Dude."

"Yes?"

"So... you're totally going straight over there."

"I'm tempted to make a terrible pun about how much I try to avoid straightness as a general rule... but I won't."

Superboy snorts. "*Thank* you. Clark makes fucking *awful* puns sometimes."

"I'm familiar, yes," Lex says, and smiles. "But you were saying before...?"

"Oh, yeah. Fucking."

"An excellent invention on *all* levels."

"I know, right? But humans -- like. They totally don't *do* it."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "I know approximately seven billion people who rather prove otherwise, Superboy."

"No, no, you know what I mean! I mean -- don't you?"

"I... you believe humans don't fuck *enough*?"

"They *don't*. They like -- they get all wrapped up in whether the other person likes the right *music* or the right *shows* or the right freaking *clothes*, you know? And then, like, girls are constantly pretending they *don't* get off on all the things they get off on, because people are like 'oh, no, you like sex, you must be a bad person!' And some guys, like, *use* sex in really fucked-up ways. And it's all *bad*."

"Ah... yes, that. In many ways, those things are culture-specific, Superboy. It's not that they're *only* American problems, and humans will *always* find ways to be ludicrously dysfunctional about pleasure --"

"Yeah, *that*!"

"*But*... there have also always been cultures -- and sub-cultures -- where those problems are much reduced."

"Hunh. I mean, okay, it's pretty cool in SF in a lot of ways, I guess."

"So their press would suggest."

Superboy sighs. "Yeah, I. I'm -- kinda really disappointed in the queer community, Luthor."

"For having the same sorts of dysfunction?"

"Yeah," Superboy says, and blows out another breath. "I mean -- shouldn't people who have to fight just to avoid getting their asses kicked do *better* at this stuff?"

"I've always thought so. But... humanity is itself. And even the wisest and sanest human is subject to the messages, lessons, and flat-out programming massaged into children from birth."

"*You're* human, though."

"And I had many, many kinds of dysfunction as a teenager -- and well beyond that. I hated myself for being attracted to men. I hated myself for being attracted to submissive women. I repressed my polyamorous tendencies. I told objectively terrible 'jokes.' And all of that... all of that caused me to waste a *great* deal of time, and deny myself a great deal of pleasure."

"Hunh. Okay, I get it. Uh. So is it cultural or biological?"

Lex smiles. "A little of both, I believe. Though I tell myself that it's *mostly* cultural -- and thus can be fixed with time and care and dedication -- in order to keep myself sane."

"Tim. Tim's kind of repressed."

"He's getting much better."

"Because of *you*?"

"Because of himself. Always remember, Superboy: no one can change you in any lasting way *other* than yourself, and that can be either for the better or for the *worse*."

"Uh."

"Yes?"

"That's fucking rich coming from the guy who *programmed* me."

Well -- yes. But. "Superboy, I can honestly tell you that you are *nothing* like what I intended you to be."

"Well, *sorry* --"

"No. No -- I didn't mean it that way."

"Uh. How *did* you mean it?"

"I mean..." Lex takes a breath. "Life is... a wonderful thing. I don't believe in miracles, but I believe that if such things *could* exist, life -- some lives -- could be considered them. I believe that the fact that you *are* such an individual -- unique and kind and wonderfully *strange* -- is proof of something larger. Something that science has not -- yet -- found an adequate explanation for. I am capable of speaking words that would, for lack of a better term, hypnotize you into following my orders and *only* my orders, but that would only be your behavior -- *not* who you are as a person."

"Um. You totally can't rip those words out of your head, can you."

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't be hypnotized into forgetting, either -- I'm a terrible subject."

"Fuck, I wish *I* was."

Lex closes his eyes. "So do I."

"Really?"

"I've come to believe... I've always believed that freedom was the better option for the wise and kind. I have... expanded that definition."

"Because of Tim?"

"Because of myself. Tim is, I believe, not the kindest person in the world."

Superboy snorts. "Really not. He's really kind of a *bitch* when you get right down to it."

"Certainly, he enjoys torturing me."

"What, like, your dick?"

Lex laughs quietly. "Not *yet*, thankfully. I rather prefer my cock to be as healthy as possible."

"Heh heh. You gotta try CBT sometime, Luthor."

"You've... found someone who could give you that?"

"Yeah, well, Wonder Girl was kinda curious, you know? And I already knew from... uh... other people. You know. Lots of super-strong people out there."

More every *day*, seemingly. Lex sighs. "I'm *quite* happy that you've been enjoying yourself, but my ability to heal from injury is only *slightly* greater than the average human."

"Uh. You're a *meta*?"

"I am, yes. Though there's no way to know, for sure, whether I would've developed my healing abilities had I not been exposed to all that radiation from Clark's ship when I was young."

"I can't believe you're a hypocrite, *too*!"

"I've *been* a hypocrite in many ways. However, I fully intend to come out about my metahuman abilities when I return to Metropolis. It's time to set something like a decent example."

"Jesus fucking -- what did Tim *do* to you?"

"He reminded me -- via the judicious use of contempt, mockery, and ridiculous attractiveness -- of both the boy I used to be and the man I *wanted* to be when I *was* that boy," Lex says, and settles himself more comfortably. "It didn't take me very long, at all, to realize that I wanted to have him in my life. After that... well. There are few things more useless and pathetic than a man who sees what he wants -- what he *needs* -- and *doesn't* do everything necessary to have it. Or him. Or her. Or hir, as the case may be."

"You think Tim isn't male?"

Lex blinks. "He... I don't believe I can speak about that in good conscience."

"Heh. You thought I knew."

Lex *winces*. "I --"

"No, it's cool. I *did* know, because I've seen all the ways he does and *doesn't* look at, uh, cis-gendered men and women. I pay *attention*, 'cause he's my best friend in the *world*, and he's... well. He's private. You gotta work to get him to open up."

"That does seem to be the case. Superboy..."

"Yeah, okay, I'm changing the subject. I'll ask *him* about it the next time we get together."

"Good thought --"

"I'm jealous of you."

Lex closes his eyes -- no. "He's *not* monogamous."

"He's boning someone *else*?"

Lex checks his watch. "Almost certainly within the next twenty minutes."

"What did you do to *him*?"

"Hopefully, helped to convince him that a body like his really ought to be used for more than *just* violence."

Superboy sighs. "Fuck. Yeah, he's got a sweet body. *Always* has. Even though he's little as fuck."

"Superboy..."

"Yeah?"

"Is Wonder Girl monogamous?"

"Um. For now? I mean, I *really* hope she's fucking her way across Themyscira right now for more than *just* the stories she'll tell me."

"I... a word of advice?"

"Sure."

Lex closes his hand into a fist. "There are few things more painfully avoidable than the arguments a monogamous person *will* have with a polyamorous lover."

Superboy sighs more gustily. "I know, I *know*, but she's *one* of my best friends, and the sex is fantastic, and she's just so... I don't know. She's stuck trying to live a civilian life thanks to her mother and her mentor, and *I'm* stuck trying to live a civilian life thanks to *my* mentor, and -- I don't know."

"She understands you."

"A lot of me, yeah."

Lex takes a deep breath -- "Tim understands more."

"Well -- he's known me longer."

"And he's a detective."

"And a stalker fucking *freak* -- uh. You know, in good ways."

Lex smiles somewhat helplessly. "Are you talking him up to me?"

"Hey, he's my best *friend*, Luthor. I can't have you getting the wrong idea."

"Of course not. But -- try for him, Superboy."

"Uh. What?"

"You want him. You care about him. You -- love him?"

"Well -- of course, but --"

"*But*... he's just as polyamorous as you are."

"But you're my freaking *father*!"

Lex inhales sharply -- no, carry on. "Neither of us will be fathering a child on Tim anytime soon. Additionally, I did not raise you. Additionally... I believe you should consider leaving certain human concerns behind as much as possible."

"Sometimes humans have the right *idea*, Luthor!"

Still Luthor. Still -- no, carry *on*. "And sometimes they don't, Superboy. I would much rather have you -- both of you -- happy than to have us be... socially correct."

"Uh. It really wouldn't... fuck with you?"

"Not if it didn't fuck with you or Tim."

"And -- uh. No, I don't actually have any other questions about that."

"I'll answer any --"

"Uh. Lex?"

Lex squeezes his eyes shut. "Please."

"What. What happens to all of us when you change your mind?"

"The same question could be asked of anyone, Superboy --"

"Lex --"

"-- but I know what you're saying. I truly do," Lex says, and opens his eyes again. "I can only say that when I make decisions about myself, I tend to avoid going back on them --"

"But --"

"Wait, please?"

"I'm -- I'm listening."

"Thank you, Superboy. To me, one of the ugliest things I've done with myself since I had my father murdered when I was nineteen was to stop examining myself, my actions, my emotions, and my motivations with the caution and care I used throughout my childhood and adolescence. While there are things I have done that I *wouldn't* take back -- no matter what -- there are other things I did solely for the sake of expedience, or to satisfy a moment's belch of rage or greed. When I was your age -- your physical age -- I planned for the long-term *always*. I approached every action with a mind to what it would do for me -- and the world -- not just tomorrow, but twenty years from tomorrow. I didn't stop doing that *entirely* -- I wouldn't have achieved any sort of success if I had -- but I used it far too sparingly. I was lazy, and often chose short-sightedness over wisdom. I will almost certainly always have to watch myself for that sort of thing... but I have, now, multiple reasons to do so."

"Fuck. I guess you do."

Lex smiles. "Yes."

"I -- um. So what's Mercy really like?"

"She's a psychopath."

"Uh."

Lex laughs softly. "She's also brilliant, passionate, a terrifyingly exciting lover, and the single most *useful* person I've ever known."

"*Useful* isn't really a *compliment*, dude."

"I disagree. A person who is useful to you will remain in your life long after you jettison the wise, the kind, the good, the loving, and even the beautiful."

"See, no, 'cause *I* don't think about how 'useful' people are compared to how *awesome* they are."

"Well. She is *quite* awesome in her ways -- no one person has ever filled me with awe as *many* times as Mercy has -- but many of those ways speak to her fundamental utility. As for you..."

"What?"

Lex smiles. "The fact that you haven't considered the matter consciously does *not* mean you haven't considered the matter *unconsciously*. As an example, who are the people you'd most enjoy having at your side during a fight?"

"My team."

"And if you could only pick, say, three members of your team?"

"Well -- KF, for one. And Starfire. And Tim."

"KF being... Kid Flash. All right. Why them?"

"They all know how to work with *me* -- and they can all do things I *can't*."

"All right. Next: Something terrible happens to you or a loved one. You're depressed beyond words. You're in pain. You're angry. You *hurt*. Which three people do you wish to have around you?"

"Uh. Okay. KF and Tim again. And Wonder Girl."

"Why?"

"They've known me the longest. They know... they know the kind of things I need when I'm all fucked in the head. They can make me, you know, better. Get me right again."

"I'm glad you have them. Next: you're having difficulty with an assignment, or perhaps a mission. The problem is mental, not physical --"

"Tim. All the fucking *time* Tim, because -- yeah. And KF, because, you know, he has an entire *library* in his head now. And okay, I get it. You're saying that I *do* think of people as useful or not useful, but *I* say I'm just good at picking people who are *good*. Good at all kinds of *things*." 

"That *is* another way of noting a person's usefulness, Superboy."

"I -- okay, no, call me Kon. Please?"

Lex -- grins. He can *absolutely* cope with the fact that it's the Kryptonian name -- "Of course. *Is* it what you prefer?"

"Kon-El was my *first* real name. The first name someone else gave me, and -- it means a pretty cool thing in Kryptonian."

"'Gift to/of the House of El,' correct?"

"Uh, huh. Anyway, you *can't* just think about how *useful* a person is, because then, you, you know, *use* them. And using someone is a *real* good way to start walking down the road to *abusing* them. Like, seriously, Lex, I've *seen* this. A *lot*."

"As have I. However, you'll note that those people tend to be short-sighted and fail at things like self-awareness. *Miserably*. If you're going to set out to own someone or something -- anyone or anything -- you must know yourself *and* the person or thing you want to own, and you must think deeply and seriously about how *long* you want to own that person or thing. And? You *must* keep all of that information in mind at all times. If you do that, you won't just use the person or thing, you'll use the person or thing *well*."

"Okay, what does that mean to *you*?"

"It means that I do everything in my power to make sure that my Virtues -- who are my incredibly useful property -- have *everything* they need at *all* times in order to be healthy and happy. I *also* try to make sure they have everything they *want*... but I don't always succeed in that."

"Hunh. I mean, I guess that explains why they haven't just killed *your* ass if they're all that psycho."

"Technically, Hope is a sociopath."

"Uh... okay, and I'm accessing my programming for that -- seriously?"

"Yes."

"But... she still cuddles?"

"There are very, very few *pure* sociopaths in the world, Kon."

"Hunh. So... it's kind of like a spectrum or something? If you're *enough* of a sociopath, you get called one?"

"Yes," Lex says, and thinks of Hope's emotions --

The *tides* within her that wax and wane in no particular pattern -- and with no particular touchstones of comprehensibility. Every time he has asked, she has refused help -- of any sort -- to feel more things. She was *born* neurotypical -- by her own measure -- and remained so well into her childhood. The emotions are *there* --

And it may be time to ask her again. Right now, Kon is silent in a way which *feels* thoughtful...

Lex can wait for him, and that's precisely what he does.

Mercy dislikes teenaged boys far too much to be exposed to Kon -- especially with all he has asked of her lately.

Hope may or may not find him confusing -- his effortless blending of warmth and open-mindedness with rock-solid vigilante-standard morality just isn't something she's *used* to.

Prudence...

Prudence may very well already be hoping for a threesome. Or, rather, to be double-teamed. That... would be a little much. More argyle in her future, he thinks --

"Is Tim useful to you?"

"Yes. He's a reminder to control myself and a reward for doing just that. I'd *like* for him to also be useful in a business context -- and perhaps in a security context -- but I am, of course, willing to live without those things."

*Brief* silence -- "Am *I* useful?"

There is --

There is an ache for that. A sense that he has been --

*Proof* that he has been lax, and wrong, and *Bruce's* definition of incorrect. Something *fundamentally* out of touch with all that is right, and good --

Bruce, darling, did *you* give Kon anything?

Would you have done it for me?

"Uh. Tough question?"

Lex can feel how pained his smile is. "Not really, Kon. The difficulty... the difficulty comes from how much I've failed you."

"You still don't even *know* me all that well, Lex!"

"That's *part* of the failure. Other parts... well, we don't have to speak about that if you don't wish?"

"I um. Yeah, we can... skip that part."

"Are you uncomfortable with being apologized to?"

"Usually, yeah. I mean... Clark does it a lot."

Lex narrows his eyes. "What did he do to you?"

"Leave it, Lex. Seriously, that's between me and him and my issues and his issues."

"But --"

"Next time you clone a dude? *Ask* him first. Or, you know, at least *tell* him."

"You... surprised him."

"Uh, *yeah*."

"I -- I *meant* for you to be a surprise..." Lex growls to himself. "Yet more short-sighted behavior on my part. Very few people *enjoy* being surprises to other people." 

"Yeah, well, it's not like you had any idea about whether or not I'd be that kind of person."

"No, but care must be taken --" Lex takes a deep breath. "You're useful to me, Kon. You're a reminder and a reward -- much like Tim -- and you are the sort of immortality any man could be proud of."

"That's -- um. That's pretty cool."

"So," Lex says, and builds a small fantasy of Kon accessing his economics, psychology, and business programming by choice -- "So are you."

"Heh. Yeah, I'm a badass."

"Tim has a pair of boots just like yours, you know."

"No way!"

Lex smiles. "He said -- before I confessed what I knew and got him to admit to it -- that he owned them because he was a 'fan' of yours."

"God, it's just fucking *like* him to do something like that and not actually let me *know*."

"You should give him a few of your t-shirts."

Kon sighs. "I'd rather talk him into the jeans. Well, jeans that would fit him."

"He seems to prefer a looser cut..."

"That's just 'cause he got used to not letting anyone see how ripped he is. At least, that's what he told me."

Lex nods. "It does make sense. His parents couldn't have possibly known --"

"They didn't. Until, like, they *did*. His Dad was searching his room for drugs -- 'cause he was kind of a huge dumbass, only don't *ever* mention that to Tim --"

"I won't --"

"Cool. Okay, like, he found one of Tim's secret compartments, and it happened to be the one with his spare Robin suit, which totally doesn't look like a costume even from a *distance*."

"He... made Tim quit?"

"Uh, huh. But first he pointed a fucking gun at Bruce's face."

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"I *knew* Jack Drake. The man was a *weed*."

Kon snickers. "He sure was. And he totally made Tim promise to not even *talk* to any of his friends *or* his family. His *real* family."

"And that explains the stretch of time when the vigilante-spotters didn't see him. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Uh. I'm pretty sure he's *real* fucked-up about that whole time, Lex. Maybe... take it easy mentioning it?"

"I will, thank you."

"You're welcome. What's Prudence like?"

"A psychopath --"

"Jesus, Lex, how do you *sleep* at night?"

"Quite well, as there are beautiful, brilliant, powerful, armed, and highly-trained women all working to make sure I do."

Kon snickers again. "Okay, yeah, asked for that. What *else*? I don't think there are even pictures of her, yet?"

"Not yet, no. Though she'll be with me for my next press conference. In any event, she's African-American, though rather lighter in complexion than Hope. She wears her *slightly* longer than shoulder-length hair relaxed and softly curled, has nearly black eyes surrounded by subtly curled lashes --"

"She curls her *eyelashes*?"

Lex laughs softly. "Some women simply don't feel like themselves until they do."

"I -- okay, yeah, I *did* actually know that. But she's another hottie, hunh."

"Yes."

"But a *submissive* hottie."

"With me, yes."

"Hey, aren't the subs supposed to call the shots?"

"Did you think they didn't? Let's just say that my home can be a frightening place when I'm not behaving the way my Virtues think I should."

Another snicker --

Lex smiles helplessly again --

"You would totally dress Tim in fucking Louis Buitton and Grada and give him a gun and call him Honor or Justice or something if he let you."

"Yes, I would. Though I would *quickly* stop that, as he's not suited for that sort of thing even a little."

Kon yawns. "Yeah, not so much. Though you should make him shoot in front of you sometime. Bruce taught the *fuck* out of him."

Lex blinks -- but of course Bruce would make sure he checked out on as many weapons as possible. Whether or *not* he was allowed to use them. Oh... Bruce. "I believe I will. Thank you."

"No problem. I... kinda need to do some more of my homework before I go patrolling, Lex."

"Of course."

"I -- um. When are you headed back to Metropolis?"

"I'm going to try to put it off for a few more days, but I might not be able to."

Kon takes a deep, shaky breath. "So..."

"Yes?"

"Maybe I'll go see you when you're there. You know. Like... in your office or something."

Lex -- swallows around -- everything. Absolutely everything -- "I'd like that."

"I don't think. I mean, I can't actually invite you *here*."

"Are you. Are you happy there?"

"Hunh? Yeah, most of the time. It's not a city, though. It's -- so incredibly not a city."

Lex laughs and -- perhaps -- rubs his eyes. One of his eyes. "That it isn't. I remember it quite well from my first and only visit there."

"Heh. I guess you would. Um. I might... I might not finish high school."

"You certainly don't have to --"

"I know. I -- yeah. I don't want to disappoint the Kents or Clark or anyone, but -- there are more things I can do with my time than trigonometry I totally already know."

"Yes, I agree. I... I'm not going to try to give you contradictory advice --"

"No?"

Well -- Lex laughs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to try very hard to remember that it would be a bad idea to do that."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I mean, I know everyone is just trying to make sure I *can* have a civilian life and everything, but... I'm not really seeing the point."

"It... can be good to leave oneself options --"

"I don't know. It's -- I guess I could fall in love with some civilian someday. I guess."

"But you don't think it's possible."

"Really, really, *really* not. I mean, I think about it, right?"

"Yes?"

"And I *always* wind up fantasizing the person into, you know, Kevlar and Nomex. And Tim would teach whoever it was to kick ass, and KF would teach whoever it was everything *else*, and Wonder Girl and I would bang whoever it was *together* -- wait. You actually know who Wonder Girl is, don't you."

"Cassandra Sandsmark, yes --"

"What, you were being polite or something?"

"I am capable of doing just that from time to time --"

Kon snorts. "Okay, fine, *Cassie* and I would have a threesome with whoever -- well, you know what I'm saying, right?"

"I do, yes. It's *possible* that you'll develop more of an... affection for civilian life as you age."

"Anything's freakin' *possible*, Lex."

Lex laughs. "True. All right, another piece of unsolicited advice?"

"I'm listening."

"Think of who you were when you first broke out of the crèche facility three years ago."

"Okay..."

"Now think of who you were a year after that."

"Really -- uh. I learned a *lot* that first year."

"I have no doubts about that. Did you find yourself wanting different things for different reasons?"

"Really *yeah*. And... now I think about what happened a year after that and a year after that?"

"Yes --"

"And... I think about what happens a year from *now*... and figure out how much more I'm likely to change. Okay, I'm hearing you. You're saying I should keep my options open."

Lex grins helplessly -- "Kon, you'll find that a *large* amount of my advice boils down to those four little words."

"Yeah, I hear you. And -- you think that I could surprise myself down the line."

"Oh, yes. As an example, I really didn't come to Gotham to fall in love with a seventeen-year-old male vigilante."

"You're in *love* with him? Like -- you don't *just* love him?"

"Yes."

"Whoa. Uh. That's a little scary, Lex."

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Uh -- yeah. I mean... do you wanna marry him or something? Wait, is that legal in Metropolis yet?"

"No, but it will be soon. At which point the rest of Indiana will bleat and pass various unconstitutional laws... time marches on. As for whether or not I *want* to marry him... well."

"Well, *what*?"

"I did ask him --"

"*Fuck*! Lex!"

"But I wasn't truly being serious. *Entirely* serious, in any event."

"Okay...?"

"I knew he would say no, Kon," Lex says, and smiles again. "It's rather like the question of having him be one of my Virtues. I *want* it... but I know that, ultimately, it wouldn't work."

"For him or for *you*?"

"I have... I have many more things I wish to do with my life. All too few of them can be achieved easily with a publicly acknowledged seventeen-year-old male lover. Which is not to say that I *won't* be encouraging him to let us come out together when he's *somewhat* older."

Kon sighs. "Yeah, I hear you. It'll be kinda cool to have you trying to take over the world in *good* ways."

"Thank you --"

"Will I. Um. I should go."

Lex frowns. "If there's something --"

"There *is*, but -- I don't know. It's stupid."

Lex *tenses* -- "I doubt that highly, Kon."

"It's -- okay. We'll just -- we'll just call this 'shit Kon says when he should be thinking about the most ridiculously boring and *annoying* parts of American History,' okay?'"

Lex makes a note to look into Smallville High School's curriculum -- "I'm listening."

"I want. I kinda want a brother."

"Oh."

"I told you it was stupid --"

"No! No. I... I'll do it."

"Seriously? Just like that?"

"I... perhaps I'll ask Superman for his input this time --"

And the ubermensch is hovering outside the window. Wonderful.

He's *naked* and covered in drying *come* -- no, he has *nothing* to be ashamed of --

"Uh. Lex?"

"Yes, I'm here --"

"He's there, too, isn't he?"

"*Looking* at me, yes. I'm going to be civil."

"Yeah, well, he's the father of your *child*, so *cope*."

Lex coughs -- and breathes. "As you say, Kon," Lex says, standing and moving to the window. "You overheard everything of relevance?"

The ubermensch's --

Superman's --

Kent's eyes are unreadable -- but not, actually, glowing. The blue is perfectly clear in the dawn sunlight. He --

"Will you allow it to happen, Kent?"

Kent raises an eyebrow at him. That --

"Bruce does that expression better."

Narrowed eyes --

"*Tim* does *that* expression better."

Kent turns vaguely west --

"Do you need time to *think* about it?"

And Kent is facing him again. He'd turned too quickly for Lex to *see* it --

Lex doesn't allow himself to *stiffen* --

And he mouths "Why don't you?"

"Because the world could use more people like you. I can admit that now without feeling *too* much gnawing in my gut. Additionally... additionally, there is more than enough room in my life for a second son. Finally -- and most importantly -- Kon has been alone for too long. Is that a sufficient answer?"

Kent stares at him *darkly* --

Lex raises his own eyebrow -- no. No. "I have been evil. I have been cruel. I have been foolish. I have been arrogant, murderous, and *vile*. I have been all of these things with you -- and more, and worse. You... you have done nothing to earn these things from me save exist in a manner that I found offensive. That I *find* offensive. I... am better than that. And I apologize," Lex says, and bows his head for a moment.

When he looks up, Kent has flown slightly higher --

His eyes are glowing *incandescently* --

And Lex wonders if Mercy will have to go activate one of the distressingly *hairy* clones which have only twenty percent of Kent's DNA... and thus no guarantees about how much programming they've successfully integrated.

Personality engrams are still *experimental* --

Tim might not even *like* all that hair --

Well. LexCorp makes some of the best depilatories in the world. Lex stands his ground.

And waits --

"Do it," Kent mouths, and -- disappears entirely.

Lex sighs. "Are you still there, Kon?"

"Yeah, I -- he said no?"

"He said yes. He... were we to wait until you completed your physical development --"

"You could just use me. I -- I'd rather have a brother. If that's okay --"

"It's perfectly fine. I... I've thought about what it would've been like to have a brother or sister."

"Yeah? Did you want one?"

Lex laughs softly. "Only... only in the strange alternate universe where that brother or sister wouldn't have also had to be raised by my father, who would've done everything in his power to turn us against each other."

"He was... really bad?"

"Worse, in some ways, than myself."

"And... you don't think he ever would've changed?"

Lex closes his eyes and smiles. "Anything is possible. Many, many things are, however, improbable."

"But -- *you* changed."

"My mother told me once that my father used to be... a loving, open man. A bit formal and stuffy in some ways, a bit coarse and rough in other ways -- but still someone any reasonable person could love. This was near the end of her life, and she didn't put it quite that way -- I was eight -- but she was unhappy. He was still that man with her, but she could see all the ways he simply wasn't that man with anyone else, and it made her troubled. Even then, it was clear that I wasn't the son he wanted... I don't want to whine."

"No, it's -- I mean. These are. Um. My grandparents."

"You would've loved my mother. She was warm, funny, practical..." Lex sighs. "She took us to every new restaurant she heard about. No matter how strange the cuisine seemed."

"She... she really liked food?"

"Loved it. She said, once, that there were few better ways to learn about the various cultures of the world than to eat their food -- with them, if at all possible."

"Oh, dude, *yes*! I fucking *love* that, and I can always learn more languages, and the food -- just. All the different *spices* people use, you know? And the different ingredients, and the different ways to put them together -- it's *awesome*!"

Lex's smile *hurts* on his face -- but it's a wonderful pain. "Perhaps you'll let me bring you to some of my favorite restaurants in Metropolis...?"

"Fuck, yeah! I mean -- uh. Wait. Will I have to wear a suit?"

Lex laughs somewhat helplessly. "Some of my favorites do require a more formal look... but. You *are* my son."

"No, no way, I'm not gonna *coast* on that or anything. I have a suit... somewhere. Clark picked it out, though," Kon mutters.

"Oh... dear. Perhaps you'll allow me to have your measurements taken by one of my tailors...?"

"You're not gonna dress me in purple, are you? 'cause that's kinda... uh. Not me."

"You enjoy blacks, blues, and deep reds...?"

"Well, yeah. Some golds, too. And *deep* blues. Not that powder color Clark likes so much. It makes him look like he's eight feet wide."

Lex laughs again. "Which may very well be the look he's going for."

Kon sighs. "Yeah. If I could get Lois to look at me like that? I'd wear a fucking clown suit."

"Please don't."

A snicker. "Got it. Okay, I'm heading out. My hearing is kicking in enough that I can hear stuff a couple of states away, and Nashville is freaking *crazy* tonight."

Such *power* -- no, no. He can focus, and cope, and all of those other fatherly things. "All right, Kon. Thank you for this conversation."

"Back at you, Lex. Um. I might head out to Gotham soon to visit Tim."

"I'm *quite* sure he'd enjoy that."

"Heh. He always does. Don't know how I forget that. I -- anyway. I'll talk to you later."

"Until then, Kon."

"Night!" And he hangs up.

Lex does the same. It's time for a shower -- and however much sleep he can give himself before the increasingly panicked calls start coming in from Metropolis.

It -- all of it -- is worth it.

*

It's always better -- in mostly wordless and rather wonderfully painful ways -- to have Robin in the car with him on their way home. For all that Bruce has loved seeing them on their bikes --

They've *all* loved their bikes --

Bruce smiles inside himself. When it was Dick, the challenge -- beautiful and warm -- was to keep his focus on the road while Dick did everything short of dancing *on* the steering wheel.

("It's dawn *already*?")

The dash had his boot-prints very, very often.

When it was Jason...

When it was Jason, who had loved the seats designed for his body with a purely sensual *joy*, Bruce's focus was often split dangerously. Powerfully --

("Aw, *yeah*, B, *harder*!")

When it's Tim -- and that happens so *rarely* -- there are small sighs of contentment, hums of pleasure as he strokes the dash and center console --

As he studies the steering wheel and controls with *covetous* lust --

("Mm. I do believe you've managed to increase the pick-up *again*, Batman. I approve.")

And now it's Stephanie. Her usual end-of-the-night scent of musk and aging sweat is somewhat blunted by the scent of singed hair -- she *will* want to have the damaged parts trimmed before she leaves for her mother's home -- but she is humming a popular country song to herself and beating out the time on the dash --

And chewing at least four pieces of bubble gum --

"Bum-bum-bow-woww --" She breaks off to blow a bubble nearly half-again the size of her *head* --

Once again, Bruce resists the urge to pop it --

"You know, Spooky. I can --" She stops to suck more of the gum into her mouth -- "I can *see* you thinking no-good thoughts over there."

"Hmm."

"Uh, huh. And that hum -- ahm nom -- that hum says it *all*," and she pulls the gum out in a long, drooping strand.

Thus far, she has managed not to get it stuck to her uniform, though Bruce isn't at all sure how. Still -- "Does it."

"Hee hee. Yeah, it *really* does," she says, and winds the gum strand around and through her fingers multiple times. She has, thankfully, removed her gauntlets.

"What all does it say...?"

"All the all. *All* of it."

Bruce smiles helplessly. "I see."

"Of course..."

"Hmm?"

"*Heh*. Of course, I can't see the no-good thoughts in *detail* or anything. Hint hint. Hint. *Hint* --"

"You were wonderful tonight --"

"*Spooky*."

"Hmm. Compliment."

"That's *right* --"

"Though watching you deal with Krzenko tonight --"

"Spooky."

"He had a *rocket* launcher --"

"I *know*. And so does my poor hair," she says, and makes a face. "Maybe I'll let Tim cut it. He needs his girly time."

Bruce was hoping --

She narrows her eyes at him. And continues to chew the half-wad of gum which *isn't* wound around her fingers. "You totally wanted to do it, didn't you."

Bruce licks his lips.

"Perv."

"Yes."

She snickers. "Okay. Okay. You can do it."

"Oh... yes?"

"Uh, huh. But, like, you have to wash it first. *Tenderly*."

"Mmm."

She snickers more and punches him. "*I* pick the shampoo."

"Of course."

"*And* the conditioner."

"Yes."

"And -- wait, no. You're using the lemon-ginger shampoo and the Ultrelle conditioner with jojoba oil. *I'm* taking a nap."

They're only three miles from the Cave. "Did you... want to sleep through having your hair washed and conditioned?"

"Uh, huh. Well, maybe."

Bruce's penis twitches desperately. It isn't that he didn't know he had that kink -- he's known since Dick was *thirteen* -- but to have it expressed *this* way --

"Such a freakin' perv."

"Hmm."

"If you do a good enough job? You can wake me *up*."

Bruce swallows.

And drives faster.

Once in the Cave, she gives him a look which is *both* narrow and heavy-lidded. She...

"Perhaps... I could carry you to the showers."

"Do you know what I *weigh*?"

"One hundred sixt--"

"Don't *say* it! Fuck, I can't believe you made me *heavier*," she says, and scowls at him.

"Your muscle development --"

Her scowl gets deeper.

"Perhaps I should... quiet myself."

She opens her restraints... and then simply looks at him. *Impatiently*.

Bruce smiles helplessly and uses every bit of his speed to get out of the car -- he can check the oil and fill the tank *later* --

He lifts her into his arms and kisses her forehead gently --

"Hmph."

And then carries her at a measured pace into the showers. She never uncrosses her arms... but she's blushing faintly, and Bruce believes the scent of her musk is... deepening.

Freshening.

Once in the shower, he sets her down out of the way of the spray on the Robin-sized shower chair he'd acquired for Tim for those times when he was too exhausted or too injured to stand for his ablutions... but not exhausted or injured *enough* to allow Bruce to help him. Bruce has hated that chair far more than any piece of entirely functional durable medical equipment deserves, but it's useful for moments like this.

Stephanie rests her head back against the wall and sighs --

And Bruce remembers that he'd wanted to let the water heat. He -- he *does* that, and then strips out of his gauntlets and moves back --

Stephanie licks her lips -- and shows her teeth.

"Stephanie..."

"All of it, Spooky."

All... oh. She's *leering* -- "My... clothes?"

"Uh, hunh," and she unwinds the gum from her fingers and balls it up with the gum that had been left in her mouth -- her toss to the wastebasket is perfect. She folds her hands behind her head. "Take 'em *off*."

Bruce smiles -- and pauses. "Stephanie."

"Are you gonna fight me on this?"

"No. It's only... I will quickly become erect once I remove my jock. You might... I don't want to offend you."

"Uh. You're a freak."

"Yes."

"Look at it this way, Spooky -- the quicker I see *exactly* what you're packing when you're happy to see me --"

"And... touch you."

She licks her lips again. "Uh, hunh. The quicker I see it? The quicker I decide what I'm gonna *do* with it."

Bruce shivers. "As you say." He strips himself quickly, feeling himself sweat and *relax* in the steam --

And not relax, at all, when she begins to study him.

"Would you like me to... pose?"

She makes a face.

"I don't have to --"

"Really *not*. Is *that* what you do with Barbara and Dick?"

"For Barbara, sometimes."

Stephanie nods and frowns thoughtfully. "I guess that *does* seem like it would be her kink. Okay. Start lovin' me up."

"Happily," Bruce says, and goes down on one knee to remove her boots -- heavy with the large amount of steel in the toes she'd demanded -- and thick, soft socks. Her feet are pale, and she sighs as she wiggles her toes. Bruce kisses the tops of her feet before giving them a quick and somewhat *rough* massage --

"Rrr -- okay, yeah, you're doin' that for me tomorrow."

"Thank you," Bruce says, and presses carefully with his thumb --

"Ooh -- no, no, later."

"As you say," and Bruce kisses them goodbye before carefully removing her belt and setting it aside --

She arches her hips --

Her round, *full* hips --

Bruce sighs and feels himself thickening still more, *heating* --

He tugs down her shorts and tights together, noting that her leg hair is growing in much more sparsely than it used to before she'd begun wearing the Robin tights for hours nearly every night. Spoiler's tights were of a much lighter and more forgiving weight and weave.

He gives himself permission to ask how she feels about the loss of so much of her leg hair some other time -- Tim had been somewhat stricken when he noticed it, before turning thoughtful -- and lifts her right foot, licking a stripe from her ankle to her knee.

"Oh -- Spooky."

He kisses the inside of her knee --

"I um."

"Please tell me."

"Your mouth... isn't anything like Cass'. I --" She snorts and giggles.

"I'm afraid not. I... would you like me to shave?"

"Too much *time*. But -- no, wait, lemme feel your stubble."

Bruce shivers and meets her eyes. "Where."

She parts her lips -- had she enjoyed the roughness of his voice?

"Please tell me. Or... show me?"

"Right on my spots," she says, and drags her finger over the loose grouping of seven beauty marks on her left thigh.

The Pleiades.

Bruce leans in and nuzzles her there, kisses her and drags his cheek --

"Nnh -- oh. Uh. Hunh."

That wasn't 'stop,' and so Bruce doesn't. He uses his tongue to trace her beauty marks --

He breathes on the slick skin and drags his *other* cheek --

She spreads her legs more widely apart --

"Stephanie..."

"You -- uh. Naked now. And then *hair*."

Bruce raises an eyebrow and kisses each of the beauty marks --

"Spooky."

"Of course," he says, kneeling up and opening the catches on her chest armor instead of simply tearing at her simple cotton panties with his *teeth* --

He is capable of control -- even when the scent of her breasts through her t-shirt and brassiere is almost overpoweringly milky, musky and sweet at once --

She sighs and lifts her arms over her head with *casually* languid grace...

And Bruce can't help but rumble his pleasure as he sets her headband aside and tugs off her t-shirt. "I've wanted this."

"Uh, huh."

"I mean... specifically the chance to bare you. To be able to look at you --"

"Uh, huh."

"Hmm. Perhaps I should be quiet."

She -- smirks at him. And raises her dark blonde eyebrows. And plants her hands on the seat between her thighs, pushing up and swinging --

"Dick would do that --"

"When you were boring him?"

"And when I wasn't, as well. May I continue?"

She bites her lip and makes a show of thinking about it --

She rolls her eyes back and forth --

And Bruce realizes, with something of a start, that she's nervous. That some part of her...

Bruce cups her right shoulder and squeezes firmly --

"God, your hands are huge. Uh. Where was I?"

"Perhaps... telling me how I could help you relax."

"Uhh. That's not gonna happen until you make me come. Like -- and it pretty much has to be a *serious* special moment, Spooky. You're just not comfy enough to be able to get away with a little one -- yeep --"

"It seemed," Bruce says, and arranges her in his arms like a bride about to be carried over a threshold, "to be a good time to explain myself to you."

"Like you *haven't* been -- *mm* --"

The kiss is not a rough one, and it could be far more *hard* --- but Bruce makes it as deep as he can, as *serious* as he can. It's tempting to bring her to the spray, but she may not wish to get her underwear wet --

And she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him back, wriggling and twisting in his arms until he moves her into a position from which she can wrap her legs around his hips and squeeze --

So *tightly* --

She pulls back and grins at him. "Is that what you needed to explain, Spooky?"

"It's one of the things. Another is this," he says, and lifts her higher --

"*Fuck* --"

And sucks her hard nipples through the brassiere, left and right and left again --

"*Jesus* --"

"I never, ever wish to bore you," Bruce says, and tries a *careful* bite --

"*Nnh* --"

"I understand... I understand that I may do so, anyway --"

"*Bruce* --"

"I love it, unabashedly, when you say my name, Stephanie. Every time," and Bruce slips his tongue between her breasts and licks his way to her sternum, up to her suprasternal notch -- "Which is not to say that I don't love 'Spooky.'"

"Yeah -- you. Uh. Uh. Okay --"

"May I bite your throat?"

"No *marks* --"

Bruce growls *quietly* -- "I would... I would have you be mine, Stephanie."

"Yeah, well -- *no*," she says, laughing nervously -- and happily. "I was starting to think you were *all* talk."

"There have been times when I've wished to be just that --"

"Because you're a freaking *dumbass*. Uh." She leans in and bites his lower lip, eyes narrow and hot, *bright* --

And so Bruce moves his hands to her buttocks, which are everything the breadth of her hips promises, teases --

She pulls back and grunts. "Fuck."

"Yes?"

"You're touching my ass."

"Yes."

"You're touching my ass like you're thinking *thoughts*, Spooky."

Bruce squeezes. Hard.

"*Mm* -- you wanna fuck my ass?"

"I've fantasized taking your mouth, your thighs, your breasts, your vagina, and your rectum."

She stares at him.

"I... I've learned how to please lovers over the years, Stephanie."

"Yeah, well, you had to learn *something*. Um. You're too big for that. I mean -- Cass only ever gets two fingers up there and her hands are smaller than *mine*."

"Your hands are strong. Beautiful and scarred --"

"You want 'em on your dick?"

"Yes. I want them -- everywhere."

Stephanie licks her lips -- "Get your dick between my thighs."

"May I remove --"

"Not yet."

"All right," he says, and lowers her until he can press his penis to her vulva through her panties --

"Oh -- ooh..."

"Stephanie."

"Uh, huh. I..." She smiles somewhat wickedly -- and pushes two fingers into his mouth. She --

Bruce hums and *sucks*, tasting sugar and salt, artificial watermelon flavor and sweat, the lingering hints of her gauntlet and *smoke* --

"You like that, Spooky?"

Bruce nods slowly and never looks away from her eyes.

"How long can you hold me -- all right, that's a *retarded* question --"

Bruce narrows his eyes --

"You're gonna get on me for my language? Did you want my pussy or *not*?"

"Hmm." Bruce forces his tongue between her fingers and licks --

"Unh. Okay, that *is* an answer," and her giggle -- is nervous again.

Bruce pulls back. "Stephanie?"

"Fuck, just -- um." She bites her lip and blushes -- and then snorts. "Okay. Okay. I just had the most ridiculous thought ever."

"Tell me?"

"Uh. Mainly about how pregnant you could get me. Like maybe the bigger it is, the *more* pregnant I'd get. Which, considering what Dean *didn't* have? Would mean you'd give me, like, octuplets."

Bruce blinks. Several times.

She snorts again.

"I... perhaps we should... talk --"

She *squawks* -- and smacks the side of his head. "I *know how pregnancy works*!"

"Of course --"

"Hey, what's your sperm count even *like*?"

"Ah... laughably low. According to Dr. Thompkins --"

"She *laughed* at your poor little guys?"

"She can be... bracing... Stephanie --"

"Don't worry, I *know* you've got some freaking Spartans around here somewhere."

"Yes, I --"

"Put me down."

He lowers her to her feet, and she removes her brassiere and panties quickly and casually, stretching up onto her toes -- and then planting her fists on her hips. Her breasts are faintly welted from the semi-rigid 'boning' in the brassiere -- "I need to measure you again --"

"You do *not*."

"But --"

"They only *look* bigger!"

"I..." Bruce frowns somewhat helplessly.

Stephanie snorts *again* -- "Oh, *ow*, that one *hurt* -- and you're totally rubbing my nose like that would help."

"It... seemed..."

"You're kind of adorable, aren't you?"

Bruce widens his eyes as much as possible and fills his expression with tremulous hope --

Stephanie looks appropriately horrified.

"Hmm. Perhaps I'll stop that --"

"Do my *hair*!"

"As you say," and Bruce leads her into the spray --

"Oh -- ooh. You know my favorite temperature!"

"Some have said that I can be obsessive."

She giggles and punches him over the ribs --

And Bruce hums and picks up the lemon-ginger Prima shampoo. There are two other shampoos of hers in this shower, but, to date, she has *only* used the Prima when showering here. He'd like to know more about her reasoning -- the other shampoos smell just as pleasant, and would complement her own scents just as well -- but not as much as he would like to do just this:

He works up a modest lather between his hands and then begins massaging the shampoo into her hair, against her scalp --

"Uhh. Wow. You're totally just gonna. Uh."

"I've wanted to do this for you since the first time I watched you yanking tangles out by main force."

"Hey, I can do my own... hair... ohh..."

"Here," Bruce says, and presses his thumbs to the apex of her spine.

"Nuh. You just. Do that."

Bruce hums.

"Wait, I get *way* less tangles since I stopped wearing the full cowl."

"Yes."

"You've wanted to do my hair since I was *Spoiler*?"

Bruce smiles and drags his thumbs down the back of her neck --

"*Mm* -- oh, Jesus, my nipples are *harder*."

"Are they."

"Uh, huh. Don't even think about taking your hands out of my hair yet, though. And I need *two* washings."

"Not three...?"

"Be more *desperate*!"

Bruce raises an eyebrow -- and leans over to let her see him doing it --

She snickers and elbows him. "You gotta make me feel *hot*, Spooky."

"You're incredibly beautiful --"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Would you like to... perhaps you could touch me."

"Touch you *where*."

"Any--"

She elbows him again.

"Hm. There is... an ache."

"In your *ribs*?"

Bruce laughs softly and walks her into the spray --

She closes her eyes and hums as he sluices the shampoo away --

"Were you to touch my penis, I would quickly start becoming... impatient."

"'Impatient,' hunh?"

"Yes."

"Grabby?"

"Would you like --"

"Yes or no, Spooky."

Bruce licks his lips. "I could easily imagine clutching at your lush, powerful body --"

"Did you just call me fat?"

Bruce blinks. "I... no."

"Hee heee. How's this," she says, and grips the base of Bruce's penis --

Squeezes *hard* --

"Stephanie."

"Yeah...?"

"I..." Bruce swallows and focuses on tugging out the few tangles he hadn't already eased. Except --

She starts to stroke. Viciously.

She -- "Stephanie..."

"Uh, huh...?"

Bruce sighs and cups her breasts --

"Oh -- hey, now, you've got hair to do."

"I... a moment --"

"Nope," and she never stops *stroking* --

*Forcing* him to pleasure --

("Darling, you really shouldn't encourage me to be this rough with you."

"I... please..."

"Hmm. And you're *sure* you wouldn't prefer --"

"*Please*!"

"Oh. Bruce...")

And Lex had gripped him even more firmly, used his *calluses* --

As Stephanie is using hers. She...

Bruce shudders and rubs her nipples with his thumbs --

"*Hair*."

"Please --"

"Hair or I *stop*, Spooky --"

Bruce grunts and releases her breasts. "As you say." He retrieves the shampoo and lathers a measure of it between his hands once more --

He isn't sure if he wants to drip some of her shampoo onto his penis or *not* --

"The friction. It..."

"Kinda... kinda shuddery, right, Spooky?"

"Yes. I feel myself... quaking internally," he says, and begins lathering and massaging her scalp once more.

"Heh. You're doing it faster."

"I'm sorry --"

"Unh-uh. I like it."

"Oh. Yes...?"

"Uh, huh. 'cause it means you'll do it the *right* way for me whenever I tell you to."

"I could -- *Stephanie*."

She *scratches* him with the nails she'd turned in against his flesh -- "Get me *clean*."

"Yes. Yes," Bruce says, and he can smell his own sweat under the scent of the water, lemon and spice --

"You wanna fuck me."

"I want... to penetrate you --"

"Eugh. See, that just makes it sound like you wanna fuck a *wound* on me."

"I... hm. I assure you, Stephanie, that I am not a bedbug."

She cackles -- "Aw, *gross*!"

"I... apologize?"

"You'd *better*," and she releases her grip --

"Oh --"

And *claws* him, making him twitch and spatter her hip with his pre-ejaculate -- "Oh -- I *feel* that. You're already getting me *dirty*, Spooky."

"I... apologize. Perhaps you'll let me lick you clean."

"Maybe. Ooh -- scritch a little right -- *mmmm*..."

Bruce works at her scalp there for a few moments more, then eases the few new tangles --

And then she's stroking him quickly, rhythmically and -- with experience. With.

"Do you... do you touch Clark this way."

"Uh, huh. Sometimes I use my feet --"

Bruce grunts. "Will you... may I watch you?"

"With my feet, hunh?"

"Or -- anything you wish."

"But the *feet* is what made you sound like Wildcat just punched you in the gut," she says, smiling teasingly and *speeding* her hand --

"It's only..."

"'Only?'"

"If you were to... spread your thighs while touching him that way..."

Stephanie snickers. "He always starts breathing *real* deep and looking stoned. You people are gonna give me a complex about my sex-stink."

"It's hardly a *stink* --"

"Spooky."

"I would like to bury my face in your vulva and bring you to orgasm --"

"Knees. Now."

Bruce smiles and tugs her into the spray once more --

"Hey --"

"I wouldn't want you to get shampoo in your eyes, Stephanie," Bruce says, and sluices her quickly and thoroughly --

"God, hurry --"

He drops to his knees and pulls her to him, *over* him --

"Oh, *yeah* --"

And the water has barely touched her here. He can smell fresh and aging sweat, fresh and aging arousal --

Bruce growls and kisses her clitoris, sucking lightly --

"Nnh -- oh -- oh -- *more* --"

He kisses her harder, nuzzles and crushes his nose against her -- and she drips on his chin.

Bruce smiles and draws her closer so that her clitoris is beside his nose, lapping at her vagina and urethra --

"Oh -- *Jesus*, Spooky --"

Bruce *hums* into her vagina --

"Oh -- do *that* -- *hnh* --"

He grips her hips to hold her steady and hums while stabbing in with his tongue, *taking* her with his tongue --

"*Fuck* --" And she's clawing at his scalp and bucking, *thrusting* --

Bruce holds her tighter, but not to still her. No, Robin always moves, Robin always *must* move, and tonight she had met him with poetry and grace, violence and *directed* cruelty --

Tonight she had shone as she has on *every* night she'd spent at his side --

And every night at Cassandra's --

And every night at *Tim's* --

Tonight she was his, though, and he believes he can allow himself this greed, this *hunger* -- if only because now she doesn't seem bored in the slightest. Bruce smiles and takes her faster --

"*Ah* -- oh, *Jesus*, Spooky --"

It's difficult to believe that Clark hadn't given her just this --

*Taken* just this --

But perhaps there's something to be said for a tongue which feels only human, for *strength* which can *be* only human --

"Oh -- my clit my clit my -- *Bruce*!"

And growling against her clitoris stops seeming excessive and starts seeming like the best possible use of his time when she begins to buck and *grind* against him --

When she grips his ears and *shouts* --

Bruces nuzzles and kisses, nuzzles and *sucks* --

"Yes -- fuck, *yes*!"

And so he stays just there -- and hums --

Extensively --

Until her cries begin to peal and echo --

Until she begins to *quake* --

And then he *slaps* her clitoris with his tongue while she screams and seems to try to do her level best to remove his ears from his head. It only seems that way, though. She has more than enough hand-strength now to do precisely that if she were truly motivated --

She groans and *shudders* --

She *stops* bucking --

And Bruce eases both suction and licks. Slowly.

"God fucking -- *Spooky*!"

"Mmm?"

"*Unh* -- uh." And Stephanie steps away -- and *then* releases Bruce -- "Oh, your poor ears!"

"It's quite all right --"

"They're *purple*!"

Bruce hums and rubs them -- yes, they're swelling to a certain extent. And... Bruce hums again.

"Why are you *amused*?"

"I can't help wondering," Bruce says, and stands, "if this will make them more attractive to you... and Tim."

Stephanie snorts. "*Bruce*. Oh, wait, is this why? Did I get him all kinked for people who love the best color of all?"

"Yes, Stephanie. It's *entirely* your fault."

Another snort -- and Stephanie hums and rocks on her heels, stepping into the spray again -- but only to wet down her hair more thoroughly before she turns the water off.

Bruce raises an eyebrow --

"No reason to waste the good soap, Spooky. We're *just* gonna get more dirty in a few minutes."

Bruce smiles helplessly. "As you say."

"I *do* say," and Stephanie gathers her uniform in her arms and walks out. "Hurry up!"

He does so, following her to the hampers and from there to the disguise area. Tim's bike is in --

And Tim himself is at the console. Bruce can't see anything of him from this position, but the restless back-and-forth of the chair is... distinctive. The knowledge that Lex had learned their identities --

That he'd been holding the knowledge for *days* --

They are all ready for Operation Starfall should it become necessary -- even Stephanie is willing to allow her mother to be all but kidnapped for her own safety, and Bruce has had the alternate identities and funds set up for quite some time -- but...

("B --"

"O. We *must* trust in R-1's judgment. And in Prime's ability to monitor."

"Are we trusting them or are we trusting your *ridiculously* soft heart and even more ridiculously hard *dick*?"

"We will prepare -- we *are* prepared -- for the worst --"

"Yes --"

"This may very well turn out to be a time when hoping for the best is an equally valid pastime.")

And Oracle had snorted --

("This is why we should never let you have orgasms, B."

"Hmm. If you're sure --"

"Just so you know? If this *does* all go pear-shaped, I'm *letting* R-1 do something ruthless and decidedly non-Bat-approved to that bastard. He'll have *my* sanction, B. Just as soon as he fucking well gets back on the grid."

"I -- understood."

"O out.")

It...

Tim wouldn't do it out of vengeance. While Tim believes in allowing victims to strike back at their abusers, he, himself...

It would be something measured, and cold, and sure.

And it would be, in his mind, for the greater good. It -- does Lex *know* that?

Could he?

Would it be part of --

Stephanie whistles, sharp and harsh. "Let him *work*, Spooky! Hair, now!"

Tim stops spinning the chair -- and then turns, showing himself dressed in nothing but a gaff, a training brassiere, garters, stockings, and... heels. Traditional heels. "You're letting him do your  -- oh. You were burned," and Tim rolls to his feet and moves quickly to join Stephanie among the disguises.

She sighs. "*I* wasn't. But my hair is -- well, you see it."

Tim nods and frowns. "How short will you cut it? And -- you're all right."

"*Yes*, personfriend, I'm all *right*. And -- I don't know. Cass-length, maybe? What do you think?"

Tim checks the damage more thoroughly --

"Also, are you dressed like that for Bruce?"

"Yes," Tim says, calm and matter-of-fact -- "Though I was hoping you'd enjoy it, as well."

"I *enjoy* being able to see your *dick*, personfriend."

"Hn. We can do that, too. Once Bruce is done with your hair."

"Oh. Oh. Seriously?"

Tim smiles sharply -- and then ruefully as he strokes her jaw. "If it's something you -- both of you -- would like."

She stares at him for a long moment --

He offers his ribs --

And she punches him firmly. "You know what that's for."

"Indeed," he says, and goes back to examining her hair. "You're going to need it to be a little longer than Cassandra's, I think --"

Stephanie sighs. "Yeah, yeah. *Her* hair actually lies flat when it's *not* wet, and -- I need my ponytail time. Get *over* here, Spooky."

"Yes," Bruce says, and examines the scissors -- they're sharp enough. He raises an eyebrow at Tim --

And Tim smiles and inclines his head before stepping out of the way. He --

"You. You're beautiful, Tim."

"Thank you, Bruce. And thank you for being terrifying enough to make me a training bra," and Tim snaps the straps.

Stephanie blinks and cocks her head to the side. "Hunh. That -- that's actually kinda *ridiculously* pervy, Spooky."

Bruce hums and tilts her head forward gently. "I assure you both, I was not planning on engaging in any sort of... age-play."

"Uh. Then *why*?"

"Tim will, relatively soon, need to wear a brassiere nearly every day for several hours at a time," Bruce says, and begins to trim Stephanie's hair as close to the damage as possible. "I thought it would be useful for him -- hm. Tim...?"

Tim smiles again and rests his hands on his hips. "Good enough for now."

"Are you sure?"

Tim waves a hand. "For whatever reason, it's much more uncomfortable to be *actively* referred to as a male of the species than it is to be *passively* referred to that way. Which is to say that while *sometimes* it matters when I'm being referred to as him, her, or hir, *most* of the time it really doesn't. Though I suspect I would have a very, very different answer to that question for someone I wasn't in love with... and thus someone who probably didn't know me all that well."

Bruce -- doesn't fumble the scissors --

"Easy there, Spooky. If you mess up my crowning glory, we're gonna have *problems*."

"Of course. I..." Bruce turns back to Stephanie's hair --

Tim is looking at him so *softly* --

And Stephanie reaches back to stroke Bruce's thigh. They --

"Robins."

"Yah-huh?"

"Yes...?"

Bruce swallows and feels himself flush. "I love you. Both of you. I. I can't imagine a life or Mission without you both, for all that I know I must do just that for the future --"

"Not tonight, Bruce," Tim says, and strokes Bruce's biceps.

"I --"

"What he said, Spooky. Just -- um. Be with us."

"I'd like. I'd like to hold you both."

"Hn. We'll see."

"Heh. Yeah," and Stephanie scratches Bruce's thigh before settling her arm on the rest again.

"Every moment..." Bruce shakes his head and continues trimming Stephanie's hair, careful to keep as many of the wisps as possible from landing anywhere but the towel.

Her hair, for all its thickness, dries quickly as a general rule, and they had failed to work in conditioner -- hm.

"Stephanie..."

"Yeah?"

"Will your hair be manageable without conditioner?"

"Not even a little, Spooky. Which is why I'll be taking a *real* shower when all the fucking's done. And *Tim* can do my hair."

"You *do* love me."

"You know it, personfriend. Uh. Okay, I'm confused a little. Titty-wise."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Like -- yours won't sag. Ever. And they won't really *move*, either."

"Not very much, no."

"So... you're pretty much only going to need breast *armor*."

Bruce opens his mouth --

And Tim holds up a hand to him. "You'd think so, but..." Tim shakes his head and smiles. "Cissie's breasts were both small and *very* firm when she was Arrowette, but she was *vehement* about the necessity of wearing both brassiere and armor -- even after Bruce acquired more breathable armor for her to work in. She said that even a little unpredictable movement was enough to throw her off her game. And Cassandra --"

Steph waves a hand. "*Cass'* tits are *soft*. They *move*. But -- okay, yeah, I guess I'll stop being jealous of the harder-tittied types. Except for Wonder Woman. I mean, it's not even close to fair that her tits are that huge *and* that firm."

Bruce hums. "It helps that she's a statue brought to life by a god, Stephanie."

"Yeah, yeah. Still a lot for the *rest* of us to live up to, Spooky."

"Stephanie, your breasts are --"

"Wonderful in *every* way. I *know*," she says, reaching back to smack his thigh. "They're still gonna break my heart when I hit my thirties. Or my late twenties, if Mom's anyone to go by."

Bruce frowns. "Would you like me to design more supportive --"

"Spooky, if your bras get any more supportive, my tits will be up by my ears."

"I --"

"Hn. This is where we let Steph whine, Bruce," Tim says, sitting on one of the oversized vanities and crossing his legs --

"*Exactly*."

"Hm. As both of you say," Bruce says, and snips away the last of the singed hairs, moving to the healthy hair.

Stephanie sighs. "So that implant Clark showed you was like mine?"

"Oh, yes. It was difficult not to press it to my face."

"And you're totally letting the AI cut on you."

"Mm-hm."

"And you're still not gonna let poor Clark get a taste?"

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Did you think I should pay him for the implants, Steph?"

"Uh -- heh. Okay, yeah, fucked-up," she says, and Bruce can just see her blush. "But also *not*! You *know* he'll rock your little world."

"I do, yes --"

"*Well*?"

"Hn. There's something to be said for his disappointed expressions."

"Oh -- that's mean, personfriend."

"And -- really. Should *anyone* be allowed to fill their Bat-bingo card? Don't we have an image to maintain?"

Stephanie -- sniggers.

Tim smiles and kicks his feet. "Appreciated that, did you...?"

"Uh, huh. Of course, the fact that you screwed *Lex Luthor* *twice* -- wait. Spooky, how many times did *you* screw Luthor?"

"Three hundred and seventeen."

"Uh."

Tim looks at him.

"Uh."

Bruce hums. "Was I not supposed to count, Stephanie?"

"Uh. So -- wait."

"Yes?"

"How long were the two of you *dating*?"

("Lex... what are we doing?"

"Speaking about something awkward and confusing."

"Lex."

"Speaking about something awkward, confusing, and traumatic."

"Lex."

"Oh -- fine. We're not dating."

"All right."

"'All right?' What's that supposed to mean?"

"I... hm."

"You -- *argh*."

"Yes, Lex?"

"We can date.")

And Bruce remembers smiling, remembers feeling *warm* --

("*Privately*."

"Of course."

"You -- we have our futures to consider."

"Yes."

"Do you -- how do you... never mind."

"Lex?"

"Never *mind*."

"As you say.")

And -- Bruce's hands are shaking.

And Tim is looking at him *sympathetically* --

And Stephanie is stroking his thigh.

"I... are you both sure..."

"What is it, Spooky?"

This... *this* greed, this need to brood and air his difficulties and issues out in *public* -- "Never mind --"

"Tim, stomp on his foot in those heels."

"Just waiting for an opening, Steph."

"I -- hm. It's only..."

"Yes, Bruce...?"

"Make it good, Spooky."

"Hm. It seems... improper to brood on lost love -- we were together for nearly twenty-two months before I left to begin my travels and he had his father murdered, Stephanie -- when quite literally surrounded by new love."

Tim hums. "Shared pain is, in fact, lessened pain."

"Uh, huh. And it's not like it's not *relevant*. I mean, we already knew he likes to off people, but what *else* does he do to his boyfriends?"

Bruce sighs. "Love them. He -- whether or not he's capable of saying the words." Bruce shakes his head. "He is... I was warm with him."

"*Seriously*?"

Tim bites his unpainted lip. "He... when he focuses on you..."

"There is a certain purity. A certain..." Bruce frowns and clips faster. "It was impossible not to feel greater than myself in his arms."

"Ah... yes."

"Uh. You guys are kinda. I mean, we're *talking* about a *supervillain*."

"A rather romantic one," Tim says, and smiles ruefully. "I'm still *trying* to believe that he's not in love with me... but it's difficult. Especially since he *hasn't* said anything about ceasing to kill people he feels deserve to die."

"And somehow that's not a *problem* for you now? Personfriend, do you need a punch in the junk?"

"Hopefully not. I just... I like him, Steph. He's charming, funny, brilliant, interesting --"

"Murdery, murdery, *murdery* --"

Tim laughs softly. "Yes, *that*. Well. We'll discuss the matter further."

And that was... not entirely truthful. Bruce doesn't let himself pause in trimming --

"Uh. Personfriend."

He doesn't have to. Bruce hides a smile -- no. "Stephanie."

"Hold up, Spooky --"

"Compliment. That's all."

Stephanie snorts. "Like I'm *not* gonna know when my *boyfriend* is lying?"

"Many young people have difficulty with just that," Bruce says, and gives himself permission to stroke the shell of her ear.

"Yeah, well, not *every* young person gets a big, seven-pound *lesson* about what happens when you don't trust your freakin' *instincts*," Stephanie says, and rolls her shoulders somewhat belligerently.

Bruce adjusts the towel --

And Tim sighs. "All right. I'll be honest. I -- a part of me had planned to let that slide."

"The *murdering*?"

"The murdering of other supervillains. Please don't make Bruce pause, Steph. Your hair is drying *rapidly*."

"I *know* that, you -- you -- *Tim*!"

Another rueful smile. "It's not like we *don't* let things like that happen with other *heroes*, Steph."

"We *shouldn't*. I -- Bruce, back me *up* here."

"I do not... I can never condone murder."

"Nor should you," Tim says, and uncrosses and recrosses his legs --

"Don't *distract* him, Tim!"

"What -- oh... goodness. That sort of thing really is getting somewhat *reflexive*... I. Sorry."

"You need not apologize, Tim. I'm capable of enjoying myself immensely *while* doing practical things."

"Hn. Dick taught you just that."

Bruce smiles. "Yes, he did --"

"*Spooky*! Murder!"

"Yes, Stephanie. I... I have never tried to bring Diana, or Oliver Queen, or Dinah Lance, or Roy Harper, or any of the other heroes who have committed murder to justice --"

"Why *not*?"

"Because I asked myself..." Bruce shakes his head and swallows. "I asked myself if I was prepared for their lives to go under the microscope. And if the rest of the vigilante community was prepared for that. And if I thought they would allow themselves to be turned away from the Mission entirely. And if I thought... if I thought the world could do without them."

"The greater good," Tim says, and his eyes are distant and dark --

"I... I cannot use those words in this context," Bruce says --

"Don't sound freaking *apologetic* about that, Bruce! *You're* the one who's right. Murder -- murder's never the *answer*."

"Not for me."

"And not for me, Steph. I promise. I... it's just that a part of me believes that there are some people the world could live without. I *believe* that I would never make that choice without... without a great deal weighing on the decision --"

"*Tim*. That's not fucking *Robin*."

And Tim... looks at him. His expression is bleak and *pained*.

"My love, what is -- oh. So soon?"

"It's been -- but of course it seems like hardly any time -- I... take it you didn't speak to Barbara --"

"Personfriend, what the *fuck*?"

"You -- Steph. You make a better Robin than I ever have or ever *will* --"

"Don't even *go* there -- Spooky, hurry the fuck *up*!"

"Yes, Stephanie," Bruce says, and trims the last few locks --

"Are you *done*?"

"Yes --"

And Stephanie stands and shrugs off the towel, moving to brace Tim at the vanity. "You are not fucking allowed to quit *again*!"

"I have no intention of quitting vigilantism or leaving Gotham. I have no intention of moving *out* --"

"But --" Stephanie cuts herself off and frowns. "What's the freaking point of *quitting*?"

"There are some things Robin should never, ever do, Steph. And I... I think there's going to come a day when I need to do those things. Some of those things."

"That's not --"

Tim holds up a hand -- and raises an eyebrow.

Stephanie slaps Tim's hand aside and growls... but Bruce knows that she understands. That much is clear in the *grief* in Tim's eyes. He never --

He never wishes to hurt her.

"We -- we're supposed to be *partners*, Tim. *All* of us."

Tim shivers and twines his fingers with Stephanie's. "I. I don't want to give that up."

"Then *don't*. You -- you've been doing this for years without being some ultraviolent prick, so -- keep it *up*."

"For as long as I can --"

"Don't give *up*!"

"Steph --"

"Don't. Give. *Up*!"

And Tim... closes his eyes.

"God fucking *damn* it, Tim --"

"Steph, it -- I've been thinking about this for quite some time. Before -- before my father made me quit."

Stephanie stiffens -- and turns to glare at him.

Bruce doesn't close his eyes or --

He meets Stephanie's gaze. "I can never apologize --"

"No, you can't," Tim says, and stands, moving close to him and taking his hands in his own. "Because you'd find *some* way to do it again -- to *anyone* you chose as an heir -- and because it was something I needed --"

"*Tim* --"

"Steph..." Tim shakes his head. "I've let it fuck with me... a lot. More than it should have --"

"It would drive *anyone* crazy!"

"Well, yes. But I didn't have to help it *along*, Steph," and Tim squeezes Bruce's hands and moves back to Stephanie, squeezing *her* hands. "It... it forced me to take a good, long look at my personal morality -- something I hadn't done since the Joker murdered Jason, and I was too wrapped up in my grief and *hunger* to do it seriously then. I... the way I was going..." He squeezes Stephanie's hands even more firmly --

Stephanie doesn't so much as *wince* --

"Well... I don't know. I don't know that I would've done something horrible without thinking, or... anything like that. I just know that self-awareness is always better than the alternative, and that I knew this about myself long before I had a conversation with Lex. I was just... burying it. Burying it more successfully, I mean. I've wished that I could be more like you... many times. In many ways," and Tim smiles ruefully.

"Oh -- personfriend --" And Stephanie pulls Tim close for a powerful hug that makes Bruce's arms ache in sympathy, desire --

Need --

But he is allowed touch with them. He is...

He'd promised not to wash his hands after removing his gauntlet tonight, but surely Tim can forgive --

Bruce cups Tim's shoulder and squeezes --

Tim shivers --

Stephanie hugs him more forcefully --

And it's abruptly and painfully necessary to hug them both, to *have* them both. He presses himself against Tim's back and cups their right hips --

And Tim laughs quietly. "I'm rapidly going to run out of air."

"*You* told me you *liked* that, you freak."

"Ah... so I did," Tim says, and kisses Stephanie's cheek. "I'm all right --"

"You are *not*."

"Steph --"

"Stop *Stephing* me and cope with the fact that you've got, like, seven hundred issues. And -- seriously, Tim, *one at a time*, okay?"

"I... suppose I am trying to fix all of them at once --"

"Yes," Bruce says, and squeezes their hips.

"And... you've definitely taught me that multitasking isn't always the best response to a given situation."

Bruce smiles and kisses the top of Tim's head. "I've tried."

Stephanie snorts. "So has every-freaking-body *else* in your life, personfriend. Well, everyone who *loves* you."

"And there are many such people," Bruce says, and kisses him again, again --

Tim sighs -- "I'm -- listening. And both of you feel very, very good."

"Yeah, personfriend...? How good?"

"Hn. Well... I can't help feeling somewhat overdressed --"

"You're beautiful," Bruce blurts --

And Tim sighs and rubs himself against him --

Bruce feels his breathing roughen, his penis *thicken*...

And Stephanie hums and licks Tim's cheek --

"Oh --"

-- before leaning back enough to look at both of them. "How do you want *me* dressed, Spooky?"

"However. However you feel most comfortable --"

"What's the *kink*?"

Of course he must be honest --

*Always* with his loves --

*All* of his loves -- "A certain... ambiguity in terms of gender has always been attractive. In... any direction whatsoever."

Stephanie blinks at him. "Seriously? You wanna pack all these curves *away*?"

"No," Bruce says, and smiles helplessly. "I've thought about tailoring a 'men's' suit for you that would accentuate your curves while still suggesting --"

"'Ambiguity.'"

"Yes."

She reaches past Tim's shoulder to shove him. "Where'd you even *get* this kink?"

"The seventies were a time of great experimentation --"

"*And*?"

Bruce hums. "Lex... and his tendency to plaster his bedrooms at Exeter with posters of David Bowie."

Tim strokes Bruce's thighs. "I think I need to see him in eyeliner at least once."

"I'm quite sure he would oblige you, Tim --"

"See, I was *gonna* let you put me in a suit, Spooky, but if you're only into it because of freaking *Luthor* --"

"I assure you, Stephanie: I would not be thinking of him were you to allow me to dress you in that manner."

Stephanie raises her eyebrows in purest skepticism, which...

"Hmm. Perhaps I should do a better job at proving I'm capable of pushing thoughts of him aside. Come upstairs with me, please. Both of you."

"My conditioner --"

"Every toiletry you've brought to the Cave is duplicated in the en suite bathroom of the bedroom Alfred has chosen for you upstairs," Bruce says, and raises an eyebrow of his own.

"Uh. And that would be the room I haven't even walked into yet."

Tim laughs quietly. "We can always bring your toiletries to *my* bathroom, Steph. I'm willing to enable your avoidance."

Steph smacks the side of his head. "There's no *room* for my stuff in your bathroom, Product Wonder."

"I'm *also* willing to sacrifice the space I need for the various gels I use to keep Clark from coming too close."

Bruce coughs. "That's -- I wasn't aware that that was why you chose them."

Tim tilts his head back just enough that both he and Stephanie can see the sharpness of his smile. "It's possible that I'm a terrible person."

"You're gonna be *so* pissed at yourself when you finally let him have a taste, personfriend."

"Perhaps. For now... I'm enjoying myself."

"I can regret nothing about your pleasure," Bruce says, and strokes the bowl of Tim's right hip. "Please come upstairs with me."

"I... Steph?"

Stephanie bites her lip -- and then nods. "Lemme get my robe."

"Hmm. I think it would be somewhat odd for me to wear a robe over this --"

"Odd is better than *Alfred* catching you wandering around in your freaky underwear, personfriend."

"I -- you're absolutely right. Let's go."

They retrieve and don their robes together and go, and the part of Bruce which wishes to remain in the Cave --

The part of him which only wishes to *work* --

But all of the Robins have taught him that Batman is incomplete without them. All of them have taught him, in their ways, that time spent loving them in every way possible --

Every way *allowed* --

Bruce doesn't throw them over his shoulders. He -- he follows them --

He swallows when they hold hands and jog --

He smiles when they *laugh* together --

And he shivers when they stop in the doorway to his bedroom and breathe as one and squeeze each other's hands more firmly. They --

"You need do -- there is nothing --"

"Quiet, Spooky. I'm just dealing with the fact that you wear some *seriously* fruity cologne."

"Hn. There is, in fact, one with cherry accents."

And Stephanie lets go of Tim's hand to turn and glare at him.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time... and rather amusing --"

"Do you own any *good* colognes?"

"What... what would count as --"

"Nothing that smells like it belongs on a teenaged girl!"

Tim hums. "I think the Croquet *would* smell wonderful on you, Steph."

Stephanie punches his biceps --

"Hn. It also makes Bruce smell *exactly* like someone who would, oh, say... drag you into a cloakroom and have his wicked way with you."

Stephanie blinks... thoughtfully.

Bruce smiles. "Perhaps you'll accompany Tim to the next party, Stephanie...?"

"I don't have -- but you'd absolutely buy me some ridiculous dress."

"Happily. Or... perhaps something with loose, flowing trousers? Cassandra rather prefers those --"

"Hey, I can *wear* a damned dress, Spooky," and Stephanie glares at him again.

Tim leans in and kisses her cheek. "You can wear such things exceedingly well. You can also wear nothing, at all."

Stephanie blinks. "You're rushing me."

"Perhaps a little --"

"You're *rushing* me!"

"I'm... sorry?"

Stephanie giggles and turns to walk and shove Tim into his bedroom --

"I'm not sorry?"

"You're *totally* not sorry, personfriend," and Stephanie strips Tim out of his robe --

Shrugs out of her own --

And tackles Tim onto Bruce's bed --

"Oh, hey, the bed smells *nice*!"

Tim shivers and strokes the duvet. "So it does. Bruce...?"

"I try to avoid wearing the colognes to bed," he says, and takes off his own robe before hanging it on the closet door --

"Oh -- God. I'm in Bruce's bedroom."

"On the bed, even -- wait, personfriend, don't freak!"

"I'm trying -- I sleep down the *hall*, Steph --"

"Uh, huh, and after this you can go in there and close the door and tell *everyone* to fuck off. Well -- everyone but me," she says, and moves him further onto the bed --

"Oh -- I'd never --"

"I know. Also -- I'm here."

Tim gazes into her eyes...

And smiles in the moments before he pulls her into a kiss. They --

The urge to call to them --

To stop -- not to *stop* them, but to arrange them in a way more similar to his fantasies of them --

If Stephanie would nudge her thigh between Tim's --

If Tim would *ride* her to a certain extent --

Bruce squeezes himself and watches --

Moves to watch them from the foot of the bed --

The heels make Tim's feet seem -- slightly -- larger than they are.

The position -- Stephanie is on her hands and knees -- makes Stephanie's posterior seem larger than *it* is --

And her vulva is pink and soft, slick --

He shouldn't *stare* like this. He -- Barbara always finds a way to punish him for it --

"*Mm* -- oh, Tim --"

"Mm-hm..."

Oh. He'd missed -- Bruce moves around to the side of the bed again --

And Tim is biting Stephanie's upper lip, biting a path *along* it --

Stephanie is shivering -- and she gives Tim her weight. She --

Tim rolls them and pins her -- reflexively? He's never done that when they've been together in her bedroom or Tim's bedroom in his father's townhouse. He --

"Oh -- *fuck*, personfriend, tell Bruce to stop *staring*!"

"I'd rather not," Tim says, and pushes her head up and to the side before tasting her throat slowly, meditatively --

"Why *not*?"

"The weight of that stare is making this feel... absolutely nothing like a bedroom."

"Tim. Can we talk --" And Stephanie grunts for Tim biting over her jugular -- "Wait, never mind, *fuck* --"

"We can always talk --"

"Not *now*!"

Tim pants and licks his lips. "But. If there's something --"

"Your issues are incredibly weird and freaky!"

"I -- that's true --"

"And they'll be weird and freaky tomorrow when Spooky *isn't* jerking off to us making out, so -- sex now?"

Tim licks his lips -- and turns to stare at him *hotly* --

To stare at his *penis* --

"Tim..."

Tim nods and looks up into Bruce's eyes again -- and then he smiles and turns back to Stephanie --

"Yeah, personfriend...?"

"How much do you like watching Bruce jerk off?"

Stephanie bites her lip and stares at Bruce's penis --

At Bruce's working hand --

"Please," Bruce says, and takes -- one step closer. Only one --

"I like... uh. What do *you* wanna see us do, Spooky?"

Bruce grunts and squeezes himself again --

"Hn. Be *nice* to that, Bruce. It's ours tonight."

Bruce feels himself *spasm* -- "Yes. Yes, it. I..."

"C'mon, Spooky, spit it out."

Bruce licks his lips. "If... if Tim were to suckle your breasts..."

Stephanie grins --

And Tim cups her left breast. "Watch closely."

"I. I *will* --"

"Oh -- personfriend..."

Tim licks around the areola --

And around again --

Again --

"*Mm* --"

He flicks at the stiffened nipple with the tip of his tongue -- and sighs. "It's only..."

"Uh. Yeah?"

"'Suckling' has always seemed, to me, to be a very different animal than simply 'sucking.'"

"Oh. Fuck, Tim --"

"Hn." And Tim moves further down Stephanie's body and nuzzles her breast --

Cups and squeezes her *other* breast --

"Fuck fuck -- *nnh* --"

And Tim is -- he is suckling at her, very clearly using his tongue to great effect --

Humming and moaning --

Sucking in *pulses* --

And Bruce can't --

He moves closer, kneeling beside them on the bed and stroking the air above Tim's back --

Stroking Stephanie's cheek --

"Oh -- *ohn* -- *Bruce*..."

"Yes. Yes -- please."

"What -- what *else* did you want to see?"

"Everything."

Stephanie growls and glares at him --

"Please --"

"Be *specific*."

"I've." Bruce swallows and tugs helplessly on the back of Tim's brassiere --

"*Now* -- ohn -- *Tim*!"

"Is he --"

"He's *nibbling* while he sucks -- oh, *fuck* --"

"I would like... to do the same --"

"Well, you *can't* -- yet," Stephanie says, and giggles. "What should *Tim* do?"

"Touch. Perhaps if you were to touch him through the gaff..."

"Then *what*?"

Bruce shakes his head and strokes the dip of Tim's spine --

The wings of Stephanie's collarbone --

"Come *on*, Spooky --"

"It's nothing... I don't know how I would have finished that thought beyond being sure that watching you touch your love... your *lover*..." Bruce swallows and shakes his head. "You... both of you are arousing me beyond words."

Tim switches his hips -- slowly.

Stephanie arches and scratches Tim's scalp --

"The scent. Both of you..."

"Uh, huh. Off, personfriend --"

"Mmmm. Anything you say," Tim says, kneeling up and licking his lips --

Stephanie's areola is significantly darker than the other now, and the shine of Tim's saliva on her nipple --

Bruce shudders and reaches to touch --

Stephanie smacks the back of his hand. "Just *watch* for now."

Bruce grunts -- and sits on his heels. "As you say."

Stephanie's expression is avid, *sharp* -- and then she sits up and pushes a hand between Tim's legs *rudely* --

Tim makes a soft sound -- and shows his teeth.

"Ooh, I think I found Victor/Victoria's Secret," she says, and begins to *massage* Tim through the gaff --

"Nnh -- that's terrible, Steph."

"That's *Robin*, personfriend."

"Dick has... so much to answer for..."

"You gonna let him give those answers to my *little* personfriend...?"

Tim laughs breathlessly and grinds against Stephanie's hand. "I -- think so. I told Lex I would."

Stephanie snorts and squeezes him firmly --

"*Oh* -- Steph."

"You just keep torturing him, personfriend."

"He does -- he *enjoys* it."

"So does *Bruce*," Stephanie says, smiling at him with relish before leaning in to tease at Tim's lips with her tongue --

"Oh... yes?" And Tim sticks his tongue out, as well. He --

They play with each other that way, tongues meeting in slick pornography as Tim begins to grind and thrust --

Bruce swallows. "Perhaps. Perhaps Tim could touch you that way."

Stephanie snickers --

"*Mutual* third base, Bruce...? You don't think that's a little fast...?"

Bruce groans and moves his hand to his scrotum, squeezing hard --

His penis twitches *needily* --

"Ooh. I think he's telling us that it's just fast *enough*," Stephanie says, spreading her legs wider --

"Forgive me ahead of time for having no idea what I'm doing --"

"For-- ooh. Oh. Oh, *yeah*..."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "I take it I found your clitoris?"

Stephanie snickers. "I'm just gonna take a minute to love on Spooky's anatomy lessons."

"Hn. Good -- oh. That squeeze --"

"This?"

Tim closes his eyes and tilts his head back --

Shifts his hand --

"Eep -- not that, Tim --"

"I'm sorry --"

"It's okay," and Stephanie smile and thrusts forward with her hips --

"*Oh*. So --"

"Slick? Sticky? Dirrrty?"

Tim laughs quietly and flushes. "All of the above. I... in?"

Stephanie licks her lips. "Maybe?" She turns to *him* with the question in her eyes --

And Bruce realizes that he's trying to stroke himself in the rhythm of squeezes she's giving Tim --

He squeezes himself, instead --

Shakes his head -- "I want. I want more."

"Be -- *mm*. Be specific, Bruce --"

"I want to taste you again. Both of you," and Bruce shivers for the fact that he'd gotten that out, that he'd managed to give them what they *want* of him in this moment --

But they're sharing a wry look and shaking their heads.

"Not tonight," Tim says.

"Yeah, I. I kinda need more than that," Stephanie says -- and gasps -- "Oh, *personfriend*..."

"You're... so soft inside..."

"Oh -- mm. Oh, yeah, you can --"

"Tell me --"

"*Fuck* me --"

"*Please*," Bruce says, and he's aware that he's staring, that he's looking back and forth *between* them --

"*Down*, Steph --"

"*Jesus*, yes," and she drops onto her back, planting her feet and arching --

Tim pushes *deep* with two fingers --

His eyes are wide and full --

He's thrusting at the air --

Bruce groans. "Would you. Would you ever penetrate her with your penis?"

"I." Tim licks his lips and stares at him with *panic* in his eyes --

"It's all right --"

"It's -- ooh, fuck -- it's *better* than all right, Tim --"

"You -- I want to give you an orgasm, Steph --"

"Then -- um. Get your thumb --"

"Here?"

And Stephanie whines for the first touch of Tim's thumb to her clitoris, winces and spreads herself still wider --

She is flushed pink everywhere save her vulva, which is flushed *red* --

"Please please -- oh, *Tim* --"

"I love you -- Steph, I --"

She moans, low and *loudly* --

"Oh. Oh, you're *opening* --"

"It's okay, it's okay --"

"You're so beautiful --"

"Please, Tim, *more* --"

Tim cries out and gives her a third finger --

"Oh, *fuck* -- *fuck* -- no, wait, pull *out* --"

"Steph?"

"Now now -- *nnh* -- Tim. Will you..." She sits up on her elbows and bites her lip. She looks hungry, and hopeful, and anxious --

Bruce squeezes himself with both hands and tries to quiet the ache, the need to give --

She does not need *him* at this moment --

"Anything, Steph. It's -- well, you're right. It's better than okay," Tim says, and his smile is both shaky and a kind of *pure* --

"Robins," Bruce says, and he has nothing which comes after that, he *is* nothing --

Until they both smile at him, and he is welcomed and held --

"Get *behind* me, Spooky," and Steph sits up farther, leaving a *tight* space between herself and the headboard --

"I --"

"C'mon, I need to *feel* --"

"Of course," Bruce says, and can't keep himself from using his speed, his strength to *lift* her --

"Oh, *fuck*, you feel so huge --"

"I'm --"

"He *is* huge, Steph," and Tim smiles ruefully. "He's... mm. He makes you look petite."

Steph grunts and works her index finger against her clitoris, arching and shoving herself back --

Arching and shoving herself *back* --

"Hn. Is that a kink I should know about?"

"*You* try dating someone smaller -- *thinner* --"

"I'd rather avoid dating *actual* children, Steph --"

She snorts --

Squawks --

"Get the *gaff* off!"

Tim's smile is wide and sharp -- "Say please?"

She kicks his shoulder *firmly* -- "Say *uncle*!"

And Tim grins and catches her ankle, biting her there --

"*Oh* --"

-- before throwing himself back in the showiest possible way, exposing the flexibility of his thighs, his abdominal muscles --

He kicks up and *wriggles* out of the gaff --

"You can't *tell* me you don't want that ass, Spooky --"

Bruce grunts and clutches her hips -- "You. Both of you -- I am lost," and Bruce nuzzles her ear, licks in --

Stabs in --

"Oh -- nuh -- *Spooky* --"

"Please."

"*Grind* against me. Unless..."

"Tell me."

"Will you come? Can you stop yourself?"

Bruce shivers and massages her hips, her abdomen --

He cups her full, soft breasts and lifts them the little distance they'll go --

He kisses her ear, her cheek --

"Bruce. Answer her."

"Yes. I. I can. I will not ejaculate until it's desired."

Stephanie grins and reaches up, wrapping her arms around Bruce's *neck* -- "Get the condoms, Spooky. And stay *close*."

"As much -- as close as I can. Thank you for this. *Both* of you --"

"You're welcome --"

"Uh, hunh. Especially since you're *gonna* make it worth our while."

"Yes. Anything --"

"*Condoms*."

Bruce clutches Stephanie for one more moment and then reaches into the top drawer of the bedside table. Dick had berated him *roundly* for not keeping condoms there -- despite the length of time since Bruce had last made love -- and had left to purchase a case of Spartans from a twenty-four hour pharmacy. The fact that they'd then made love without using any of them hadn't seemed to *touch* him --

("It's the *principle* of the thing. And the fact that my inner child needs as much of your come as *possible*, boss.")

Bruce shivers and catches himself opening one of the packets --

He pauses --

And Tim sighs and crawls close. "Put it on for me...?"

Bruce *pants* --

"Oh, *dirty*, personfriend."

"Isn't it, though?" And Tim smiles at him, arching back *slightly* --

"Offering -- you're offering yourself."

"To you. In certain limited ways."

"Your penis rises so straight, so dark..." Bruce licks his lips. "If you were to tell me *how* to taste you --"

"Not tonight, Bruce. You... you know what I need."

"What *we* need, Spooky."

Tim smiles again and strokes the underside of his penis. "What we need to show you."

Bruce's hands are shaking too much -- he wills them to *stop* --

And Tim parts his lips --

"Ooh, what'd he just do?"

"Willed his hands to stop shaking."

"Oh -- fuck, yeah," and Stephanie pushes back against him, grinds back --

"Stephanie --"

"Get that condom on Tim... and then you'll get a condom on *yourself*."

Bruce grunts again --

Stops *shaking* --

And the only way to do this successfully --

He watches Tim's eyes, Tim's *heated* expression --

He rolls on the condom and dreams of bending over for him, of spreading himself wide --

"I'm not sure whether I want you to share those thoughts or *not*, Bruce --"

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything --"

"Spooky... hold me still."

*Tim* grunts --

And it feels right, feels *perfect* to grip Stephanie's broad, strong thighs and hold them spread --

No, he reaches beneath them and pulls them back against her chest and abdomen --

"Oh, *fuck* --"

"Steph --"

"God, are you *staring* now?"

"Ah -- yes? Yes."

Stephanie giggles and *tries* to shift --

Bruce holds her more tightly --

And she moans, gasps --

"Oh, you clenched --"

"You would, *too*. Get *in* me!"

"I love you. I want. I want you to know --"

"I *do* know --"

"I want you to *understand* --"

"I *do* --"

"*All* of me --"

"Oh, Tim -- I promise you can always tell me anything, and --" Stephanie shakes her head, licks her *lips* -- "*Anything*, okay?"

Tim takes a shaky breath and nods --

Blushes --

And then he takes himself in hand, spreading her labia with his other hand --

"Oh, fuck, it's already --"

"I love you," Tim says again, and starts to push in slowly --

*Carefully* --

And Stephanie is fighting against Bruce's hold -- "C'mon, c'mon --"

Fighting for more --

"I *understand*," Bruce blurts, and holds her tighter still --

"Oh, *God* -- Bruce -- *Tim* --"

"Steph --"

"It's -- you're both so beautiful --"

Stephanie giggles and gasps again -- "You -- you're not allowed to wear a bra when you're fucking me, Spooky --"

"*Anything* --"

Tim groans and shudders, squeezing his eyes shut --

And then he places one hand on Stephanie's shoulder and the other on Bruce's --

He *grips* them --

"This. I." He opens his eyes again, and he's *not* glaring, but it's a near thing, a --

"Oh, Tim, so *hot* --"

"You -- *you*, Steph -- oh, *fuck* --"

"Can't -- God, you can feel me --"

"Steph, *everything* -- no. I -- every *time* --" And Tim growls and starts to thrust in sharp, *hungry* motions --

Stephanie cries out and bangs her head against Bruce's shoulder --

"Easy, you must --"

"I *can't*, Spooky, he's *fucking* me --"

"Taking you. He's -- giving --"

"I need --" Tim groans and growls again, clawing at their shoulders and staring at nothing -- "I won't *last*."

Stephanie moans and reaches to touch Tim's face --

Tim sucks her fingers into his mouth and bites --

"*Fuck* me, I -- more, Tim --"

Tim nods and releases Stephanie's shoulder, reaching down to her vulva --

And Stephanie begins to buck and writhe immediately, she --

He must know -- "Tim, please tell me --"

He tugs her fingers out of his mouth and pants --

Groans again --

"I -- I'm using my writing callus on her clitoris, Bruce, I -- oh, God, Steph --"

"I'm *clenching*, Spooky --"

Tim shouts --

Stephanie shudders --

And they're staring into each other's eyes, they --

They're *feeding* each other, giving so *much* -- and Bruce can't keep himself still, or quiet --

Bruce grinds against the small of Stephanie's back in a rhythm as close to Tim's as possible --

They're *crushing* her between them --

They -- and Tim looks to him --

Tim moans and *darts* in for a kiss, biting Bruce's lip and licking, *sucking* --

Bruce moans and gives it back as best he can, *urges* as best he can --

Tim pulls back and opens his mouth -- but only groans, again and again, before gripping Stephanie's hair and tugging her head back --

"*Tim*!"

And he groans into her mouth, *growls* into her mouth --

She shudders all over --

She *fights* him -- hard enough that he wonders if he should let her go, allow her *freedom* --

But she turns out of the kiss and shouts again, cries out and --

"Please! Fuck, *please*!"

"*Steph* --"

"Oh, fuck, you sound so --"

"I *love* you --"

She groans his name and beats at his shoulders --

She tries to *buck* --

"*Faster*, Tim --"

"Steph --"

"*Now*!"

And now the rhythm is a brutal one, fast and *rough* --

Stephanie is crying out *arrhythmically* --

Bruce hears himself *growling* -- and he can't stop. He *won't* stop, because this is like taking both of them at once, this -- no.

He pauses for long enough to slip his penis between her thighs -- and immediately shouts for the feel of her labia majora, which are soft and damp with sweat and pre-ejaculate. He wants to feel Tim, as well, but he can wait --

He can give himself *this*, and the sound of their cries, their beautiful --

"F-fuck -- *Batman* --"

And Tim gasps --

And Bruce growls for both of them, clutches Stephanie *cruelly* --

She screams, bright and loud --

Tim curses and *yanks* her hair before letting go to beat at Bruce's shoulder --

And Stephanie's orgasm makes her cry out and shudder, quake and claw at both of them --

Bruce doesn't stop *thrusting* --

And neither does Tim until she slumps and moans, wordless and, perhaps, some degree of sated.

Bruce slows to a stop and kisses her forehead --

Tim grunts and begins to shudder himself --

"Fuck. *Fuck* -- uh. Leggo, Spooky."

"Yes --"

"Pull *out*, Tim --"

"Steph --"

"You're gonna bounce on Bruce's dick while I suck you off -- *yeep* --"

"Sorry -- I'm sorry --"

Stephanie giggles and shifts to *kick* Tim away from herself -- gently. "We're just gonna have to *examine* that whole Steph-says-dirty-things-while-Tim-is-inside-her thing *later*."

Tim pants and stares --

"Oh, you're close -- switch *places* with me!"

"Steph -- yes, all right --"

"And you're *not* gonna come in Tim's ass, Spooky. That's *mine*."

Bruce groans and clutches at the duvet -- no. He can speak. "As you say --"

"Slick him up *fast*, Spooky. You can *see* how much he needs it," Stephanie says, and pulls the lubricant from the drawer --

Specifically, the faintly glowing lubricant Clark tends to provide to each and every one of his biologically-compatible lovers as soon as they express a believable interest in being taken. The fact that the lubricant *can't* be safely used by many metahumans is something that wounds Clark --

And is, thus, something his AI has been working on for years. For now...

For now, Tim is kneeling in front of him, shuddering and *waiting* --

Shuddering and, perhaps, *needing* -- but. "Tim..."

Tim squeezes his eyes shut and laughs breathlessly. "I'm -- going to need to have something of a breakdown... but not now."

"Please, stay with us --"

"I -- I'll try --"

"You'll do better than *that*, personfriend," and Stephanie cups Tim's face and kisses him hard, gesturing 'go' over Tim's shoulder --

And slicking his fingers feels necessary, important and true and *right* -- but no more so than it feels to push in with two --

Tim growls and shakes *harder* --

Bruce pauses -- no. He *crooks* his fingers --

And Tim shouts and begins to *ride* Bruce's fingers, fast and heedless of the swelling Lex had left behind --

Bruce wants to *watch* Tim with Lex -- and doesn't want anything of the kind. There are wounds, aches he *doesn't* wish to wallow in --

("*Bruce* --"

"I *need* you!"

"*Fuck* -- you. You can have me --"

"*Please* --"

"You can *have* me, Bruce, just -- come *here* --")

-- any more than he already has. This is enough. This is *more* than enough, because Robin has shown him where he was needed --

Because Robin is in his arms --

Because Robin is making *love* to Robin, and when Bruce reaches to touch Tim's penis -- he finds Stephanie's fingers wrapped around the base, holding him --

Holding him *trapped* in his pleasure --

"Stephanie..."

Stephanie holds up a finger on her other hand -- and bites Tim's lip viciously hard --

Tim whimpers and shakes *again* --

And then Stephanie pulls back. "He's gonna come in my *mouth*, Spooky."

"You've. You've desired that."

"Uh, huh," and Stephanie smiles at Tim. "I *promise* I'll make it good, personfriend."

Tim nods jerkily and cups her shoulders again --

"Ooh, yeah, hold on and let Bruce *do* you."

"He -- four *years*."

"And he's wanted you for *most* of 'em. Right, Spooky?"

"Yes. Here. I've. I've dreamed of carrying him here so many times --"

Tim groans --

"Shh, personfriend, let him keep talking."

"Steph --"

"You can do it."

"It." Tim swallows and shakes his head. "I'm going to come as soon -- possibly as soon as he pushes in --"

Bruce growls helplessly and thrusts faster, spreads his fingers --

Tim cries out and *yanks* Stephanie closer, nuzzling her throat and *biting* --

Stephanie groans and shudders -- "Okay, yeah, I'm gonna be ready for you when you're done making *him* come, Spooky --"

"Yes. Please. *Robins* --"

"You *sure* you got enough for us --"

"*Yes*. I -- I will hold myself *rigid* --"

Stephanie snickers. "You're doing *that* already."

Bruce laughs breathlessly and cups Tim's hip, so lean --

"Fuck me, *fuck* me --"

"He's *gonna* --"

"I want it -- I want it so *much* --" And Tim licks a stripe up Stephanie's throat to her ear --

"Oh -- Jesus, Tim --"

"The last. The last time I masturbated..."

Bruce grunts again, fingers spasming -- "*Tell* us --"

*Tim* laughs --

Shudders and *works* himself --

"Just this, Bruce -- just -- this is what. What made me *come* -- *hnh* --"

Three -- he didn't mean --

But Tim is crying out and tossing his head --

Tim is shaking and *working* himself --

"Oh -- fuck, Tim, can you *take* this?"

Tim nods frantically, licking his lips and *undulating* --

"Like -- Dick moves this way --"

And they moan together, they --

"I *need* you --"

"You can *have* us, Spooky --"

"Now. Please, now --"

Tim growls and clenches *hard* --

"*Tim* --"

"Pull *out*, Bruce --"

Bruce bites his growl into the back of Tim's neck --

"*Please*."

Pulling out feels terrible --

Bruce knows it will feel even worse when it's his penis, even though Stephanie will welcome him --

But Stephanie is rolling the condom on, one-handed and possessive --

Stephanie is *smiling* at him --

And if it's impractical to kiss her while entering Tim --

"Oh, *God* --"

"*Mmph* --"

If it's *greedy* to do so --

"*Bruce* --"

"*Mmm*..."

He needs them *both*, and there must be ways to make them understand that, there must be a *path* to follow, something which will lead them all to pleasure, happiness, *worth* --

"Steph, *please* --"

"Mm-hm," and she pulls back with a grin before leaning in, leaning *down* -- "Oh -- God, yeah, getting rid of this," and she tugs off his condom before swallowing him --

Tim *screams* --

And he's holding *himself* rigid, shuddering violently in *place* --

Bruce massages points of tension everywhere he can *reach* --

"Bruce -- *Steph* -- *Bruce* --"

But it's necessary to tug and twist his nipples through his brassiere --

To lick into his ear --

To rock in and in and --

And *bury* himself in Tim's screams, Tim's beautiful body --

"*Tim* --"

"I can't -- oh, fuck, I *can't* --"

"Clenching -- so tight around me --"

"*Bruce* --"

"So... so *warm*. My love, tell me I may have this --"

"Please -- *please* --"

"I've *got* you --"

And Tim throws his head back and screams --

Clutches Stephanie's hair --

He's still not *thrusting* -- and Bruce can't wait any longer. He cups Tim's hips and squeezes as hard as he'd squeezed Stephanie's thighs --

Tim screams again --

And Bruce works Tim's hips for him, for all of them, for --

The ache of this --

The sweet *power* --

Tim *whimpers* --

("B -- oh, *fuck*, B, don't *stop* --")

("Oh, God, oh -- boss, I can't even -- don't * stop* --")

Bruce growls again, but he has to kiss Tim, he --

The top of his head and his cheek --

His temple and his ear --

His bruising throat --

And Tim's cries are spiraling high and sharp --

Tim is shaking like he's *ill* --

And Bruce knows he has no time, at all --

He knows that the time he's *had* has more to do with how roughly Tim had allowed himself to be used by Lex --

But it was lovemaking, just as this is --

And that's the sound of his own shout, drowning out Tim's cries and Stephanie's soft hums and slurps --

He needs to *quiet* himself -- and so he bites Tim again, and this time he holds *on* --

And Tim reaches up and back to claw at Bruce's scalp with one hand --

And Stephanie looks up and meets Bruce's eyes -- before scraping her teeth down his shaft --

Tim's scream is nearly a *shriek* --

Tim clenches hard enough that Bruce loses sense, *control* --

Loses enough to thrust too hard, *work* him too hard --

Stephanie's gulp is *surprised* -- and then she pulls back, though not off, and hums with *sharp* satisfaction.

For the taste of Tim's semen? For the desperate twitch of his penis as Bruce holds him *still* once more? Perhaps for the way he's *gripping* her thick, unruly hair --

("Just don't come in it, B. That shit's gross.")

Stephanie would almost certainly feel the same --

And Tim's cries are rhythmic once more, *wearily* pained -- oh --

"I don't. I don't want to *stop*."

Stephanie *slurps* her way off Tim's penis. "You gotta."

Tim slumps and clutches at both of them --

"Oh, personfriend -- tell him."

"Nnh -- *nnh* -- *sore*."

Stephanie's expression quirks. "Is that all the language you have left right now?"

Tim nods -- and croons for the feel of Bruce gripping his hips more firmly -- no. Not --

Bruce relaxes his grip and slows himself to a stop. He -- he *breathes* --

"Oh, Spooky. He'll let you do it again someday. Won't you, personfriend?"

"Can't -- fuck. *Yes*."

And Stephanie raises her eyebrows at him pointedly. And then... points.

To her own groin.

Bruce narrows his eyes and twitches helplessly --

"*Ahn* -- please, Bruce, pull *out*." And Tim laughs breathlessly. "Before my ass convinces me... *mm* -- that it's a good idea for you to fuck me until I *bleed*."

Stephanie snorts --

And Bruce takes a moment to be relieved that the images in his mind *aren't* making him more aroused. He -- "I will not injure you --"

"I know. I..." Tim sighs and smiles back at him from over his shoulder. "That was amazing, Bruce."

Bruce -- twitches again --

And Tim moans and pants, gripping his own knees -- "*Now*, Bruce --"

"Breathe --"

"I'm *breathing* -- *hnh* -- *hnh* -- oh, *fuck*, you're so --" And Tim shakes his head violently before crawling away from Bruce --

And wrestling Stephanie down onto her back --

"Hey, maybe I wanted to *ride* him!"

"He'll... get deeper this way. And I really can't recommend that enough."

Stephanie licks her lips -- "Yeah, okay, I'm convinced. Spooky, get a new condom --"

"I'm doing so --"

"*Faster*," Tim says, and grins down at Stephanie. "You realize that I'm going to spend the next two days crossing my eyes every time I sit down."

"Hey, *I* didn't tell you to bend over for *Luthor*."

"Hn. And you definitely didn't tell me to do it twice --"

"God! Stop that!"

"I... no," Tim says, and kisses her chin --

Her throat --

Her sternum -- and he licks a Valentine's-style heart there. "He really is ridiculously good."

"Meaning he made you make those noises, too?"

"Maybe a little," and Tim continues kissing a path down her body --

"Oh -- ooh. Tim."

"Mm-hmm?" And Tim stabs her navel with his tongue --

Over and over --

"Uh. Uh. Wait, how are you *doing* this?"

Tim bites the soft round of her abdomen. "I'm... ignoring certain parts of my mind --"

"*Tim*!"

"-- because they have nothing to say I haven't heard before. Just..." Tim shakes his head and licks his way back *up* to her navel. "Just bleatings about trust and pain and fear. I'm -- I'm allowed to have pleasure --"

"*Yes*," Bruce says, and moves to massage Tim's back --

"Yeah, *that*, personfriend --"

"Mmm. Well..." And Tim cups the backs of Stephanie's thighs --

"Oh -- easy, I'm pretty sure Bruce bruised me there --"

"Hm. So he did," and Tim moves his hands to the backs of her knees. "You smell incredible, Steph."

"I *smell* like horny *chick*."

"That, too," Tim says, and draws patterns on her clitoris with the tip of his tongue --

"Oh -- *tease* --"

Tim kisses her there, kisses down to the aperture of her urethra --

"Nuh -- *fuck*, no making me come until Spooky is -- is --"

Tim growls and *drags* the flat of his tongue up over her clitoris --

"When do you even -- oh, *fuck* -- how are you *good* at this?"

Tim takes her clitoris between his lips and *then* hums --

"*Tim*!"

And then pulls back. "When you're letting me be creepy at you... I'm thinking about this. Mostly this."

"You always look like you're thinking about -- eating me. Uh." Stephanie frowns. "You needed to *not* get me kinked for that expression, personfriend."

Tim smiles. "Sorry."

"You are *not* -- oh -- *ohn* -- oh, fuck --" And Stephanie reaches for *him* --

Bruce takes her hand and kisses it, squeezes it firmly -- "Stephanie --"

"He's -- he's getting me *ready* for you, Spooky --"

Bruce shivers. "He knows. He knows I'll wish to... let go."

"Uh, hunh, yeah, whatever --" And then she giggles her way through a moan --

Squeezes Bruce's hand *hard* --

"Oh, God, I'm clenching around Tim's *tongue* --"

Bruce groans. "I want -- I want everything," Bruce says, and offers his own laugh --

And Tim hums again --

And Stephanie drums her feet against the bed --

She --

"May I --"

"*Yes*, Spooky --"

Bruce growls and kisses her, lifting her into it and cupping her right breast --

The feel of her nipple against his palm is electric, *shiver*-inducing as he rubs her again and again --

She moans into his *mouth* --

And it's all he can do not to thrust against her side. He must -- he must control himself for a little while longer --

He must give *all* of himself, and right now that means he must give the parts of himself which are capable of looking beyond the moment, living beyond the *pleasure* of the moment --

The taste of bubblegum and Tim's semen --

The feel of a soft, heavy breast --

Moans and wetter sounds, cries and *needier* sounds --

And Tim's ruthless, rhythmic hum.

It seems to take only seconds before Stephanie is clutching and clawing at him, before she is shaking the way Tim had been --

Bruce *pinches* her nipple --

She cries out and shoves them both back --

"Now, Steph?"

She lunges at Bruce, taking another kiss --

Another and another until it feels only necessary to roll her beautiful body beneath his own --

"Hn. I suppose I *can* move," Tim says, and drags his short nails up Bruce's spine --

Bruce thrusts against Stephanie's thigh --

"*Mm* --"

And Stephanie is moving underneath him, struggling --

"Stephanie --"

She gasps and moans -- "Please -- I mean -- no, I mean *please*," and she giggles and pushes on his shoulders, smiles up at him *brilliantly* --

And Bruce *wants* to smile back, but he's too hungry, too *needy* again -- "May I. Please, may I have you?"

"Uh. Temporarily?" And she giggles again, shifting until she can spread her legs beneath him --

Bruce moans and kisses her again --

She bites his *tongue* --

He pulls back -- "I'm sorry --"

"*In* me!"

Bruce pants and moves, taking hold of himself and guiding --

Groaning and *pushing* --

"You are --"

"Fuck, so *big* --"

"And he's got about four inches left to go, Steph --"

Stephanie whimpers and wraps her legs around Bruce's hips and *pulls* --

"*Stephanie* --"

"C'mon, I need -- I *need* you --"

Bruce gasps and thrusts --

She cries out, tossing her head and squeezing her eyes shut --

And Tim cups her left breast and begins to suckle --

"*Fuck* --"

She clenches -- and it's too much, too --

Bruce feels his control *crumbling*, because she is warm, and slick --

*Soft* --

She's *holding* him, softness and *power* --

And he knows what she tastes like --

And he knows what she sounds like when Tim is taking her --

And he knows the taste of Tim's semen in her mouth, her beautiful mouth --

"*Robin* --"

"*Fuck* me, Batman!"

Yes --

Oh, *yes* --

And it's wrong that he can smell no leather, that he can feel the air against his eyes and forehead --

But it could never be wrong for Robin to be bare. Robin needs no uniform to express the facts of herself, needs no *symbol* to be precisely who she is --

Who she has always *been* --

Bruce cups her face, holds her head still enough that he can see Robin's cornflower-blue eyes --

And she lunges to take Bruce's thumb in her mouth, to suck in *sharp* pulses, to nibble and *bite* --

"*Yes*, Robin --"

She *shouts* around his thumb --

She claws his *face* -- and the back of Tim's head --

And it's necessary to thrust into her mouth, to use the rhythm opposite to that of his hips --

She gurgles and *tries* to toss her head --

"Be *still*, Robin!"

She jerks and screams, clenching randomly --

Oh --

There is no man within him that can respond to that with anything but harder thrusts, *faster* thrusts --

She begins to *shudder* --

And he will not stop -- he --

"Ahn -- *ahn*!"

Tim toys with her right breast all without moving from her left --

She beats at the bed with her fists --

She slumps --

She clutches them both again, and the ache within him --

The need --

Robin must always have what *she* needs, but if she needs him to stop --

"*Please*," Bruce says, and it comes out growled through the Batman's voice --

They stiffen *together* --

And they stare at him, goading with their eyes, with the humor burning deep within them --

They know him. They see him and his weaknesses, but they still appreciate, they still find *happiness* -- and it's enough to make Bruce groan and shudder, make him pant and *grunt* as he drives in, as he --

As he *takes* --

And Tim moves away from Stephanie --

Moves *behind* him --

"Oh, Bruce. I think it's time for you to come," Tim says, slicking his fingers with Stephanie's fluids and then *shoving* them in --

Bruce shouts --

He's bent, he's bent and straining and he can take --

Please, oh, please let him *take* --

"No...? How's this," and Tim *crooks* his fingers --

Bruce groans and *jerks*, losing his rhythm in an instant --

Stephanie *winces* --

"I'm sorry --"

"*Nnh* -- it's *okay*, Spooky. You're making it *last*," she says, and begins to clench in the rhythm Bruce had lost --

And Tim begins to *thrust* in that rhythm --

"Robins -- please, *Robins* --"

"We've got you, Bruce..."

"Uh, hunh. Give *in*."

"I need -- I must *please* --"

"Hn. Any more pleasing and I'm going to have a very, very silly walk."

Stephanie giggles -- gasps and clenches *harder* --

"*Steph* thinks I already walk in a silly way when I'm wearing heels, but I feel the need to point out that *Lex* thinks I walk like a supermodel --"

Stephanie giggles *more* -- "Oh, fuck -- oh, fuck, *Bruce*!"

What -- oh, he's grinding his hips, he's -- he's *working* his hips in a circular motion --

He can't *stop* --

There's no true *rhythm* --

"Please. *Please* --"

"Shh, it's all right, Bruce --"

"Let *go*, Spooky --"

"Come for us."

"Come in *me* --"

"Come -- really, *really* hard --"

"*Now*," Stephanie says, grinning sharply -- and placing her right leg on Bruce's shoulder. She --

The angle --

They're *both* crying out --

And then Tim squeezes Bruce's scrotum *while* Stephanie is clenching, and there's nothing Bruce can do, nothing he can think or say --

He's groaning again, blind and straining --

He's shuddering and thrusting hard, much too *hard* --

"Oh, *Bruce* --"

"*Yes* --"

And he *feels* himself grunting for every individual ejaculation more than he hears it --

Feels himself lost and hungry, lost and *broken* to his Robins --

His beautiful --

He catches himself on his hands --

He can't stop *thrusting* -- until he can, and he can begin the process of bringing his senses back, his *mind* back --

"Unh. Jesus, Spooky, gold stars all around."

"Mm. I have to concur."

Bruce -- breathes. And turns enough to kiss Stephanie's strong, lean ankle --

"Tim's are femmier than mine, aren't they."

"Steph."

"I -- your... ankles?"

"Uh, hunh."

"I... and by 'femmier,' you mean...?"

"Slim. Graceful. *Delicate*."

"Steph."

"You so don't get to bitch about this, personfriend. You're *still* wearing a bra and stockings. Is there even a run in those things, yet?"

"I *like* these stockings."

"Case in point," Stephanie says, and raises her eyebrows at him.

Bruce shivers. "I love you. I love you both."

"Aww. That's -- " She sighs and cups his face -- and lowers her leg from his shoulder before pulling him in for a soft kiss, a gentle and *warm* kiss -- and then she pushes him away again. "I love you pretty good, too, Spooky. But you're still on probation."

He has been on probation since he agreed to take her on as his Robin. He -- "I would remain on probation with you forever if it meant we could have this."

"And also Tim's fingers up your ass?"

Tim... wiggles his fingers.

Bruce sighs and smiles. "Hopefully, yes. Or... other parts of him."

"Be honest, Bruce. You have an outfit picked out for me for that particular fantasy."

Bruce hums. "You're assuming there's only one...?"

Tim snorts --

Stephanie snickers -- and pulls him in for another kiss.

"Breathe, Bruce."

Bruce nods and regulates his breathing while making love to Stephanie's mouth -- and sighs when Tim pulls out. He listens to Tim pulling wipes from the drawer --

Watches him move to sit back against the headboard out of the corner of his eye --

And Stephanie hums into his mouth. It's necessary to devote more of his focus to that, enough that he can lose himself in the playful slip of her tongue, the sharp press of her teeth --

"Mmm..."

He pulls back enough to kiss her cheeks, and her forehead, and her throat -- where there is, in fact, a small bruise rising. Small enough to be Tim's. He kisses her there three more times, then rolls them over so that she can loom above him, and he can study the shadows beneath her breasts --

Robin should have no shadows -- but there's something to be said for mystery. And Tim rests a hand on his shoulder.

Bruce reaches up to cover it, and uses his other hand to cup Stephanie's hip. "How long may I have you both?"

They share a rueful look before turning back to him --

"Personfriend *really* needs to do my hair before I go back home, Spooky. I'll just rip huge chunks of it out if left to my own devices."

"And I... I believe I'll need my own bed. Ah... after a while."

Bruce nods. "Half an hour then?"

"*Entirely* doable, unlike my holiest of holies, which is swollen up tighter than Mary Marvel's."

"Hn. I doubt hers is... swollen, Steph."

"Hey, you don't know. She *might* be fucking the hell out of herself every night."

"Roy told Dick that Power Girl told *him*... that she doesn't masturbate."

Stephanie looks horrified.

"Yes, that was my reaction, as well."

"But -- she's so happy all the time!"

"She *could* be asexual."

Stephanie... looks even more horrified.

Tim laughs softly and turns on his side, pressing close to Bruce. "Is this all right?"

Bruce smiles helplessly. "Yes. May I... may I put my arm around you?"

Tim nods -- and rests his head on Bruce's biceps. "In any event, Hope is apparently asexual."

"Ugh. Watch me *not* ask how Luthor figured that out."

"Indeed. But I have to say... the lessons he learned from being her owner --"

"That is so *ass* --"

"Stephanie, many people find such things --"

"I know, I *know*," and Stephanie sighs and moves to cuddle against Bruce's other side. "I just -- bleh. Watch me *also* not clamor for sex-club duties."

Bruce frowns --

"And I *also* know I'll have to get over my prejudices. Not *tonight*, okay? And I promise I won't get in anyone's face about it unless they're, like, underaged or something. More underaged," she says, and snorts.

"I'm more than willing to take those assignments for the time being."

"Yeah, because you get to dress like you *hate your dick*."

"I keep telling you, Steph, it needs the discipline."

She snickers and reaches across Bruce's chest to flick Tim's nose with her fingers.

They laugh together -- but Bruce is curious.

"Tim..."

"Mm? Oh, yes, I was saying something. The lessons he picked up from owning Hope were *exceedingly* helpful in terms of talking me down off the proverbial ledge. He is -- and I'm sure this will shock both of you -- very, very good at working with people with massive emotional issues."

"*You're* not a psycho --"

"No, I'm not. But I did spend much of my childhood and early adolescence in... problematic emotional situations -- oof. Ah. Bruce."

"I wanted. I've wanted to speak to you about your parents."

"Ah... well. Yes, I suppose that *is* like you. I..." Tim shakes his head. "Let's leave that until I'm ready to admit on anything beyond a surface level that I'm going to let you adopt me -- nnh. Bruce."

"I'm sorry. I'm. I've always been so proud of you --"

"Bruce --"

"Even -- even before I could look at you with love --"

"Steph, please distract him."

Stephanie thumps Bruce's chest in much the same way Cassandra does when she feels Bruce is being infuriatingly dense. "Do you need him to just say 'compliment?'"

"I -- perhaps for this."

"Compliment. Both of you --"

"Oh, God, no, you are *not* turning me into your daughter!"

"You would be -- any man would be -- "

They raise their hands in strike positions --

"Compliment," Bruce says, and pulls them close. Gently. Carefully.

After a long moment, they lower their hands.

Bruce hums and closes his eyes. They're both due for more work in escape artistry. There will be time for conversation then.

*

.continued.
.feedback.
.index.