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Hit

by Te

[Story Headers]

Hit
by Te
March 21, 2004

Disclaimers: So very much not mine.

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

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

Ratings Note: NC-17.

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

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

*

He likes watching Tim get ready for a spar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Attack."

"I'm considering it."

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

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

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

"Weighted duds. Working on a sling --"

The first kick makes Tim's knee buckle.

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

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

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

"Explosives?" Blocked.

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

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

"Too much movement."

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

Tim grunts.

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

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

"And so did you. Pause."

"It's not --"

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

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

The movement is good.

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

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

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

"That's going to bruise."

"No shit."

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

"The gauntlet --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need to learn how to dodge me."

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

"Tim --"

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

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

Tim nods impatiently.

Dick moves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tim waits, watching Dick's eyes.

"The trains."

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

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

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

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

Tim cocks his head.

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

Tim jerks at the touch to his shoulder.

"Move."

"Got it."

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

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

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

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

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

Tim shifts on his feet, frowning slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick catches his wrist. "My game."

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

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

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

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

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

"Almost."

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

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

"I'll lose track of you."

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

"I --"

"You know I'm coming for you."

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

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

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

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

Tim's breathing faster.

"Loosen up."

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

"Tim. Are you --"

"Don't stop."

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

Tim moans, long and low.

"Tim -- ah --"

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

Dick blinks.

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

"Tim..."

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

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

But.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tim --"

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

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

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

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

"Dick...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're giving me ideas."

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

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

He likes it, too.

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

"Dick --"

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

"Oh God --"

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

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

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

"Please --"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tim..."

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

"You feel better."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick grunts and rocks up harder.

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

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

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

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

"So sexy..."

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

"Tim..."

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

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

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

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

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

"Tim --"

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

"Fuck --"

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

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

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

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

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

And doing it again.

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

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

Tim makes a high, frustrated sound and then --

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

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

"Oh God yes, Tim --"

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

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

Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In. Nothing but sweat and --

"Fuck --"

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

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

Tim moans and --

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

He can hear Tim coughing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes..."

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

Tim spreads his legs a little wider.

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

"Dick --"

"After I make you come again."

"Oh, please..."

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

Tim whimpers and Dick strokes a little harder.

"You made me come so hard, Tim."

"Oh... oh --"

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

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

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

Tim stares at him and reaches for his own dick.

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

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

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

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

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

"Dick --"

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

"Please, Dick..."

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

Tim arches and squeezes his eyes shut.

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

"Oh God, Dick, yes..."

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

"Oh..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm, Tim. You feel good."

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

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

Like what that might mean.

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

It doesn't feel like anything to worry about.

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

For now.

end.

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Fandom:  Other (Nightwing)
Title:  Hit
Author:  Te   [email]   [website]
Details:  Standalone  |  NC-17  |  *slash*  |  27k  |  03/21/04
Characters:  Nightwing, Robin
Pairings:  Nightwing/Robin
Summary:  Sparring, foreplay. six of one, etc.

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