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make me feel something

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It was after an unfortunate series of long, difficult missions that Tim finally decided to see Jason for the first time since the newly-declared outlaw made his way back to Gotham after his resurrection. Tim had been waiting, hoping that Jason would come see him, or even Bruce. Just some sort of arrival, anything to let them know he's alive. But it's still been nearly a year - 10 months and two weeks, not that Tim's counting - and this week has been so fucking hard. 

So he changes into civvies, not even bothering to wash off the grime and blood from the mission he just got back from, and tells Alfred he's going out. The butler nods knowingly, but the sympathy in his eyes makes Tim's face burn hot with - anger? shame? He's not sure. But he avoids Alfred's gaze, dipping past him to get his bike from the garage and make his way into Gotham.

The cold night air whips around him, the chill cutting into his skin with the sharpness of a knife, tousling his hair forcefully as he drives. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. By all points, Tim should be buzzing with anxiety right now. He hasn't seen Jason since… that night. He grits his teeth at the memory and revs the engine, hoping to leave the morbid thoughts on the empty highway behind him. Of course, it doesn't work; Tim still has nightmares about it. He's never spoken about that night to anyone. In fact, he's actually not sure that the others even know he was there. But everyone knows how Tim feels about Jason. 

Jason met Tim many years ago, when he was still working under Bruce's tutelage as Robin. The two had connected instantly; Tim's inappropriate fascination (or maybe a more fitting word would be devotion) with Jason (and Dick, and Bruce) which manifested in a bit of stalking, along with Jason's need to have something stable in his life. To have something normal and just his to ground him, and having someone look at him like that- look at him, not Dick, not Bruce, but him . They collided with explosive force, orbiting one another like twin stars, pulling each other along by sheer force of gravity. 

Until Jay’s star blinked out. 

Tim takes a hand off the handlebar and hits himself in the thigh a few times. The dull ache brought him back to focus on reality and clearing out the unpleasant memories. 

It takes no time at all to break into Jay's flat - seriously, was he even trying? - and he flips the lights on, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. There's really no need to be stealthy; he wants Jay to know he's here.

He pads into the living room, looking around. Tim was expecting… he's not sure, maybe more like his safehouse when he was on the streets? But no, Jay had got himself a pretty decent place. There's a simple brown sofa, resting against the wall, and on either side are expensive looking speakers, which Tim now sees are plugged into an old record player. Tim smiles faintly; it's good to see something about Jason was still the same.

Tim sets the needle down on the record with familiar ease, relaxing visibly as the record begins to play. 

With the music thrumming through him, he lets himself explore more of Jason's apartment, though he's not quite brave enough to go into the bedroom. He admires the few pieces of artwork that are strewn around the place, their presence in Jay's life bringing him a comfort he didn't realize he needed. 

The lock in the door clicks, and it swings open slowly. Tim doesn't turn around, just rubs the petals of a baby succulent that he found sitting on the windowsill. His heart should be pounding in his chest, but it's not. He feels a complete calm wash over him. He feels Jason's eyes on him, but he's not in any hurry to break the silence. Jay waited almost a year to say anything to any of them. Tim may be in love, but he's also stubborn. He's not going to give Jason an easy out.

Jason takes his time to acknowledge Tim - that is to say he doesn't - he just walks past him to pull a bottle out of the liquor cabinet - which he keeps well stocked, Tim notes - and pours himself a glass. Tim makes a soft noise of surprise when he sees Jay set out a second glass, and pours a fifth of whiskey into that as well. Tim thinks maybe he imagines the way Jason's fingers tighten around the glass before picking it up, but it makes his pulse kick up anyway. 

Now it's Jason's turn to be observed. Tim doesn't bother hiding the way he looks over every inch of the man in front of him, from the scuffed combat boots to the knife holstered at his hip to the way his jacket is bunched up around his elbows, exposing well built forearms. They're riddled with scars, Tim notices, and he looks each one over carefully, trying to map each one like pages in a book he hasn't been able to read in decades. 

If Jason is bothered by Tim's discerning stare, he doesn't say anything, but then considering how they met… it's not something Tim expects Jason is ever going to complain about. He roves his eyes over those broad shoulders, making note of how they got even broader in their time apart, how it makes his jacket cling to him in ways it didn't before. 

Tim's eyes lift to the back of Jay's neck now, and if he wants to let himself think he sees Jay stand up a little straighter, then well, he thinks he's entitled to that. The nape of his neck is scarred too, and his hair is buzzed short at the bottom, fading into a shaggy mop of black hair that manages somehow to also look so inviting it's unfair.

Jason keeps his back to Tim as he downs his shot of whiskey, and god, Tim can't help the scramble of heat that unfurls in his gut when he hears Jay rumble out a low, satisfied noise that seemed to charge the very air around them. Tim's been hard since the older man walked in the room, if he's being honest, and he has a suspicion it's the same for Jason.

Jay grabs the second glass, agile, scarred fingers rubbing around the lip of it like a caress and, oh - he's turning around and before Tim even knows it, their eyes are locked. Jason's eyes are dark, appraising him and Tim just can't breathe, god - there's a tinge of bright green around the pupils, that wasn't there before. But even further than that, Tim sees the heat in them, and it has him snatching the glass out of Jason's hand and tossing it back, the warmth chasing down his throat all the way to his core, where it ignites the already smoldering embers there, creating a quickly spreading wildfire.

Tim swallows, pinned in place with the intensity of Jason's gaze, and then those dark eyes dip down and back up, a smirk playing on the outlaw's lips as he clocks the motion. The younger man almost forgets himself, opening his mouth to speak, but he shuts it and just stares. He's drinking in every inch of Jason's face, the small lump on his nose from where it was recently broken in a fight, the J that still looks fresh as the day it was given to him, some scars across his cheeks and another that cut into the corner of his mouth. Years of pent up devotion, of adoration, of fierce and unyielding love covered Tim's entire expression, his entire being, and for a minute, Tim could convince himself that everything was perfectly normal, like Jay had never left. 

But then something shifts, the tension between them driving up again as Jason takes a single gloved finger and uses it to tilt Tim's chin up. His eyes are still dark, the heat still there, but tenderness too and Tim inhales sharply, allowing himself to be moved. Jay looks at him intently for several long moments, and Tim's heart is thudding in his chest. 

"You look tired, Timmy," Jason says, his voice soft and low and just a little bit sensual, and that has Tim's stomach twisting in knots. 

"I am tired, Jay," Tim replies, leaning his cheek ever so slightly into Jason's grip, and his breath catches again when the finger on his chin is replaced with a hand framing his jaw, thumb brushing against his lower lip. It's intimate and tender in a way that Tim isn't sure Jason had learned how to be, before, and it makes his cheeks warm despite himself. 

"What are you doing here, Tim?"

If anyone else had asked him that, in this situation, he'd punch them. But he knows Jay. He's asking what happened to bring him here tonight, when he's been back for 10 months and their paths haven't crossed yet. 

He parts his lips to speak, and Jason brushes the pad of his gloved thumb over the tip of Tim's tongue, and well, sue him if he makes a soft, needy noise at that.

"Everything is just so.. empty. I can't feel anything anymore, Jay, not since.." he trails off, but resists the urge to look away. Jason's eyes are dark and unreadable, boring into his and he couldn't look away if he tried. But he doesn't want to, he wants, no, needs Jason to know. Jason doesn't flinch at the mention of his death, just keeps staring expectantly. Tim looks up at him from under those thick lashes, parting his mouth further to let Jason map his tongue with a gloved finger. It's intimate and erotic and controlling in a way that Tim knows he needs, he knows that only Jason can give him this. "Make me feel something, Jay." 

"I'm not the same as I was before, Tim," Jason says, still rubbing his thumb over Tim's tongue. If Tim didn't know Jason the way he does, he would have taken that as a rejection, but he can tell Jason is mulling it over. 

"I know, Jay. Neither am I." 

Jason grips Tim's chin firmly at that, searching intensely for something in Tim's eyes. Tim isn't sure what, but after several long seconds, he nods. Tim's heart leaps into his throat, but before he has time to even think, Jay's fingers are in his mouth, mapping his tongue, his teeth, and god, Tim just groans.  

Jason makes an appreciative noise and presses further, pressing his fingers down into Tim's throat, and the younger man's cock throbs as he gags around them. There's something unspeakably intimate about sucking Jason's fingers through the gloves, Tim thinks as he wraps his lips around leather-clad fingers, eyes never wavering from Jason's dark gaze. He can taste the sweat and dirt and just a little bit of blood and the thrill of it rushes through him with force, causing him to shudder as Jason's fingers brush against the back of his throat and his cock throbs painfully, leaking steadily into his underwear. 

"Good boy," Jason purrs, and it's everything Tim has been waiting to hear again since that night, and somehow Jason knows and god, Tim's head is just spinning as Jason presses a third finger into his mouth alongside the other two, stretching his throat in a way that would be uncomfortable if Tim didn't need it so fucking bad.

A whine rattles out of Tim's chest as Jason grips him by the throat, fingers still stuffed in his mouth, and pulls him down with him to settle on the sofa, with Tim perched in his lap like a prize. 

They don't talk for long minutes that seem to drag into hours, Jason's fingers fucking slowly into Tim's mouth while he uses his free hand to rock their hips together slowly.

"That's right, babybird, just let me take care of you," Jason murmurs into Tim's ear, and he isn't sure how the older man can make something like that sound dangerous, but fuck, he does, and Tim whines again, hips jerking up roughly against Jason's. It earns him a quiet groan, and his whole body feels like it's on fire just from that, but then - oh, god - Jason's fingers aren't in his mouth anymore, they're pressing against his entrance and - oh shit - he's not even sure how Jay got his hand into his pants, but he doesn't bother contemplating because then Jay slides two fingers in and holy fuck .

It burns, fuck, but it's exactly what Tim needs and he sags into Jason, whining in his ear while those fingers press slowly deeper, stretching him open and oh my god it's good.  Jason's fingers are so fucking deep inside him, thrusting slowly but still not gently, and the friction and the burn is making Tim more than a little incoherent. 

Jason mouths at his neck, and Tim keens, baring his throat in a gesture of submission that comes so naturally it would be startling if it wasn't Jay. He's rewarded with a deep groan pulled from somewhere deep in Jason's chest, and then Tim is crying out sharply, jerking his hips back into the older man's fingers as his teeth sink into Tim's slender neck.

"Oh god, Jay," Tim whines, clenching around the fingers inside him as Jason's teeth meet briefly between the flesh in his mouth, and Tim knows he hasn't broken the skin but god he needs him to, he needs it. Almost like Jay can sense his thoughts, he growls around the mouthful of Tim's neck and bites down harder, teeth penetrating skin as he fucks his fingers into the younger boy at a faster, rougher pace that has Tim screaming.

" Fuck, baby," Jason groans, dragging his tongue around the circumference of the bite, and oh god it aches in exactly the right way, and the combination of the filthiness of the action with the endearment on Jay's lips, the one Tim never thought he would be able to hear again, sends him hurtling over the edge so alarmingly fast he forgets how to breathe. 

His spine goes taut, he's arched into Jason like a bow and his thighs are quivering so badly that Jay puts a hand on one to steady him as he spills into his pants, screaming Jason's name. Jason coaxes him through that orgasm and right into another one, fingers pressing hard and fast into that spot deep inside him that makes every nerve in his body light up like a forest fire. This time Tim comes so hard he can't even scream, he just gasps wetly into Jason's chest as he digs his fingers into the supple leather of the older man's jacket and yanks, just trying to steady himself. 

Tim lays like that on Jason's chest for a long time, muscles trembling as Jay rubs his back with the most gentleness he's shown Tim that night. Jay presses soft kisses into Tim's hair, and the younger man nuzzles back into the affection. 

When he finally feels capable of speech, he pulls back and gives Jay his signature troublemaker smirk and says, "What, is that all?"

Jason laughs and shakes his head, carefully pulling his fingers free and he strips his gloves before picking Tim up, carrying him bridal-style into the bedroom. 

"Not by a long shot, princess, don't you worry."

Tim could literally care less about checking out Jay's bedroom, because the second he's placed on the bed Jason is on him, pinning his delicate little wrists over his head with one hand while he slots himself between Tim's legs and grinds. It's absolutely filthy, and even though he just came, Tim can feel himself getting hard again. His head falls back onto the mattress and he whines, trying to tug his arms free to wrap them around Jay's neck before he realizes, and - oh - white hot need has him arching off the bed and pressing into Jason's body.

"Fuck, baby, look at you," Jason breathes, voice rough and Tim's eyes flutter open to meet his gaze, his mouth falling open in a soft 'o' as he sees that piercing blue and green have been completely obliterated by black lust. "You look so fucking beautiful like this, Timmy." 

Tim whines again and Jason's there, licking into his mouth and it's everything he needs and not nearly enough all at once, and god somehow Jason knows that too because his hand is around Tim's throat, squeezing as he sucks on the younger man's tongue. It's their first kiss since before, and it's fucking filthy and it's fucking perfect. 

Jason's hips are grinding roughly into Tim's and it almost hurts because he's oversensitive from coming but he thinks he might actually die if Jason stops. Just then, Jason does stop, and Tim lets out a pitiful keen. 

"Hey hey, patience babybird, I gotta get you undressed," Jason laughs as he climbs to his knees, pulling Tim roughly down the bed with him with a hand on each ankle. The sudden movement makes Tim yelp in surprise, and he would have laughed if Jason hadn't already removed his sweatpants and wasn't already digging his teeth into Tim's ankle. 

"Oh, fuck, Jay," Tim pants out, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes as Jason sucks a dark bruise onto the inner divot of his ankle. "Jay please, fuck, I need you inside me right now."

Jason swears, movements stilling for just a heartbeat before he reaches down and pulls Tim's boxers off. There's no time for Tim to get embarrassed about being so exposed, not that he's ever really been shy about nudity, because Jason is slinging Tim's legs over his shoulders and pushing in - when did he even get his dick out of his pants? - and Tim loses the ability to breathe. 

The last time they did this, they were both still awkward teenagers, not quite fitting into their bodies, still having growing to do. Now, Jason's cock is so thick as it presses its way inside him that tears start to form at the corners of Tim's eyes. 

"Holy shit, baby," Jason grunts, kissing Tim's other ankle and Tim whines in response, not able to think about anything else except for the way he can feel Jason's cock stretching him out with each centimeter as it buries itself inside him. By the time Jay is fully seated, they're both trembling, and Jay's forehead is wrinkled with effort - presumably from holding back.

"Jay," Tim whines, rolling his hips up, and oh fuck it burns so much that he chokes out a gasp. 

"Timmy, baby," Jason says in response, and starts moving. 

"Oh," Tim says, his mouth falling open, and Jason brushes his thumb across the younger man's lower lip. 

"Yeah, princess, just like that, open up for me baby," Jay groans, thrusting his hips a little harder and Tim whines so loudly that Jason wraps a hand around his throat. "Shh, baby, it's okay. Just let me take care of you like you need." 

Jason sets a rough but slow rhythm, leaving open mouthed kisses across Tim's ankles as he fucks Tim open with almost brutal precision. Each thrust hits the same spot, going further and deeper, and it's driving Tim crazy in all the right ways. Every time Jason slams into him, he screams, the sound muffled by the hand wrapped around his throat and squeezing. Tim's head is fuzzy, and he feels like he's both less and more aware of the rough stretch of Jason's cock inside him around the heavy press of Jason's fingers pinching his arteries. 

Tim is staring up slack-jawed at Jason, just watching him in awe. He takes the time now to memorize every expression, every sound, because now he knows that any time might be the last time, and he doesn't know what this means for them but he knows that Jason wouldn't do this without meaning it, not with him. 

Jason's eyes flick up to his from where they were fixated on his cock disappearing inside of Tim, and he smirks at him. Tim is just about to try and slap his arm when Jason changes the angle again and holy shit - 

"Oh yeah, babybird? Right there?"

Tim makes a strangled noise that's somewhere between a sob and a scream as Jason starts drilling into him, right into that spot over and over and he's not sure when he started crying but the tears won't stop streaming down his face and he really can't find it in him to care because he needs it, he needs Jason to see him bare like this, to know all of the pain and hurt and loss and to see how much he still needs him. 

Jason is between his thighs pounding into him like he's never needed to do anything else more in his life, and still it's not enough. He's still got his fucking mask on - not the red one, no - he's still keeping a part of himself secret from Tim. 

"Jason," Tim croaks out, and those dark eyes are boring into his again and it's closer, but not enough, not nearly enough. "Let me see you," he says, twining their fingers together. "Please."

Jason freezes for a moment, realizing he's been caught, and Tim can see the internal struggle play over his face like a teleprompter. He licks his lips and waits, and then he sees it. The shift is almost imperceptible at first but then it's more and more clear as Jason lets the mask fall away, stops pretending. 

He can see now, why Jason was keeping the mask up. And god, he loves him. He sees into the heart of Jason now, and it's ugly and terrifying and it's the most beautiful thing Tim's ever seen, and he chokes out a pleading, "Jason," needing everything Jay had been holding back.

"Tim," Jay groans, only it's almost a growl, and he puts his full weight on Tim's body and starts rutting into him like it's the last time he's ever going to get to do this, - or maybe it's the first - and his thrusts are so rough that they occasionally scoot Tim up the bed a couple of inches, but neither of them care. Tim is clinging to him, crying and rambling and Jason has his face buried in Tim's neck, growling and grunting and murmuring sweet nothings right in between angry ramblings, and finally - oh god - it's finally exactly what Tim needed, what they both needed all along and Tim is coming, his toes curling as his heels dig into the bed. 

He tightens around Jason's cock and comes between them, making Jason's shirt sticky but who fucking cares, who cares because Jason is drilling into him and oh, my god, he's coming inside. Jason groans low and deep, riding out the orgasm as he humps between Tim's legs and Tim just whines and stutters out his name over and over, so high on Jason that his eyes are glassy, his whole world narrowed to this, to him.

Jason finally slows to a stop and buries his face in Tim's neck, pressing soft open mouthed kisses there that Tim would try to return if he could move. 

"I'm sorry," Jason says, his voice quiet with grief and regret, and Tim knows he's not talking about what just happened, but about that night. He kisses the shell of Tim's ear and whispers, "I'm sorry," and this one Tim knows is for ten months and two weeks. But he doesn't need an apology. He knows now, he understands why Jason stayed away so long. 

"I'll never stop loving you, no matter how ugly or twisted you get. You're still Jason. You're my Jason." 

Tim feels Jason relax at that, sagging into him with such fierce relief that tears prick the corners of his eyes again.  

"Love you so much, Timmy," Jason mumbles into Tim's hair, and rolls them onto their sides, half-heartedly covering them with a bedsheet before wrapping an arm - when did his arms get so big? - around Tim's middle, pulling the younger man firmly into his chest. "So much," he mumbles, and Tim laughs quietly as he realizes that Jason is falling asleep around him. But, he's not much better off; between the mission just hours before, the tension between them, and the emotional catharsis of.. well, everything that just happened, his eyes were getting too heavy to keep open. 

He nuzzles into Jason's arm and lets himself be dragged into sleep, knowing that finally, finally he wouldn't have to wake up without Jason again.