theknightshift | Strictly Business (for prettyredbird)

[ For his part, Tim seems almost bored. Unfazed by the sight before him, content to sip idly at a very expensive cocktail while eager little idiots push up the price. He's younger than a fair amount of the clientele Roman draws in, but behind a plain black Venetian half mask it's a bit more difficult to tell. Anyone with a reputation to protect wouldn't show up to one of these things with their full identity on display. A sore loser missing out on a prize could start rumors, after all.

Speaking of which.

Tim waits until most of those bidding on the man drop out before lifting his own paddle. There's no desperation to the action, but each time the price went up, that paddle gave another flick. People around him grin and whisper little jokes about him wanting his back blown out. After all, who wouldn't want to take such a virile man right to their bedroom?

Bruce is pretty obviously drugged up. Would have to be, to keep him still. Tim idly wonders what they stuck him with, considering his size and carefully trained resistance to most drugs it must be incredibly powerful. Was it just to render him defenseless, or did they work out a concoction to make him obedient and improve his libido? There are all sorts of drugs these days.

As predicted, it was over in a few minutes. Over because Tim had won, not because Bruce had managed to work himself loose. He stands as the man is brought before him and isn't that an amusing sight. Bruce on a leash that's handed over to someone at least a half foot shorter and fifty pounds less than him. But while he's dwarfed by the man in front of him, Tim doesn't look the least bit intimidated. He's smirking. ]

The money is on the table. It's a pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen.

[ Though he's clearly speaking to both Roman and the guy that brought Bruce over, those icy blue eyes of his never leave the man that was just handed over to him. Does Bruce even recognize him, in this state? ]

[ It's that resistance that keeps Bruce upright for all the drugs they've put in him. The first dose did nothing and the guy who'd put the needle in his arm earned a broken hand for his trouble. The second and third slowed him down enough that a fourth could be given without much resistance. A fifth wasn't needed, but it was on standby. Just in case. Then they tied him up and put him on display.

When he's sold, when its announced, Bruce doesn't have enough clarity back to be humiliated. It only takes a tug on the leash and shove in the shoulders to get him to move. He's not as steady on his feet as he'd hoped because he stumbles and follows. Better to know now that escape would have been a disaster.

So he's obedient (for now), pliant enough that they don't have to shove him again to keep him moving. He stops when the handlers do and meets the gaze of the man that's purchased him. And he doesn't look away. It's the familiarity that has his attention and keeps it there. His name sits on the edges of his memory, just out of reach. He doesn't mean to, but he stares. ]

You..--

[ The rest he holds back. Thankfully he's aware enough not to announce he knows this man. It might make Roman change his mind and Bruce needed a way out of here. Tim's his safest bet. ]

[ The moment Bruce begins to speak Tim's eyes narrow dangerously. His free hand lifts so that skilled fingers can gently cup the man's jaw. It would almost be sweet, if it weren't for the sharpness to his gaze. Bruce has already gone quiet, but Tim uses the opportunity to his advantage regardless. He's been taught by the best, after all. ]

Whenever you address me, you will do so with respect.

[ There's no question to see if he's understood, that is simply expected. Tim turns that strong jaw left and then right, examining him up close. His pupils show the effect of the drugs as much as the stumbling had. They aren't likely to have any sort of antidote, Bruce is going to have to wait it out. He can't even estimate how long that's going to take.

And there's still work to be done. There's no reason not to gather as much intel on the ring as he can when he's given such a good opportunity. Who would understand that better than Bruce? The only harm that could come of it is a little extra embarrassment for the older man, but Tim thinks he'd agree it's a price worth paying. Anything for the mission, wasn't that what he was always taught?

At least this way Bruce's work wasn't all for naught. ]

Kneel.

[ The tug that Tim gives on the leash isn't particularly gentle. As for himself, he takes a seat in the chair at the table and picks up his drink again. Silently memorizes the faces of the men working for Roman while using his honed skills to figure out who the other masked figures might be. ]

[ There's something in Bruce that wants to be defiant. It rises up in his chest and pushes back against the drugs that keep him compliant. It makes his jaw tight, even though Tim is gentle in how he touches him there. Reminds him that he does not take orders. Not from anyone. But he's at the disadvantage. Reaction time is still too slow to do anything substantial except lower his gaze and blink away his frustration. ]

Yes, sir.

[ It comes out more sluggish than he'd like. His body's still working against him, the drugs set in deep like hooks in his muscles. He would have to wait. Normally, he wouldn't mind it. But his patience is worn thin. Not enough for anything reckless, but when he had more control, it could certainly become a problem.

Bruce's knees give easily when Tim tugs at his leash. It's a command he doesn't have a choice but to obey. Such a big man forced to kneel must have been quite the sight for the audience and the humiliation burns him. Part of him had hoped Tim wasn't going to linger. That he'd have pulled him out and gotten him back to the Cave. It didn't matter that if the roles were reversed, Bruce would be doing much the same. Tim wasn't Bruce.

After a minute, he lifts his head, turns it to look at Tim again. ]

Are we going to be here much longer? Sir?

[ Tim isn't Bruce, but he was trained by him. Watched his methods for years, took what he found useful and kept it in his own tool belt. And one of those methods is leaving emotions out of it. So as much as he should be empathetic, he just knows the mission needs to be completed. ]

We'll stay as long as I feel like it.

[ Another little sip of his drink before it's set down out of the way. Tim reaches for Bruce's jaw, tilts his head up so he can make him look in the eye. There's no warmth to be found, nothing that would give anyone a hint that he's known Bruce for a long time. Tim's always been particularly skilled at undercover work. ]

Be grateful that I'm not making a public demonstration out of who owns you now.

[ Everyone around them is staring, clearly hoping for a show. It's probably a nice mental image, someone pretty like Tim using a huge man like Bruce for pleasure. It's not anything he's willing to admit to himself just yet, but there's something dark inside of him that is breathed to life by the weight of the leash in his hand. The idea of pushing Bruce down and riding him hard doesn't disgust him the way it probably should.

He lets go of the man's jaw and glances back towards the stage, right back to collecting as much information as he can. ]

Now be a good boy and maybe I'll consider taking you home and using you properly.

[ When the drugs have cleared and Bruce is out of the fog, he'll agree Tim did the right thing. The mission would always come before personal safety, even Bruce's. It's hard to think in such absolutes, however, when he doesn't feel in control of anything. Not even his own body. When it feels like it takes ages to do simple things like blink or breathe or finish a thought.

He looks Tim in the eye and finally makes the connection. He knew this man. Tim Drake. It makes his heart race and there's a quiet hitch in his breathing. He'd never known Tim to speak to him like that and it feels. God it makes him feel too warm, like a fever flushing through him. If Tim wanted to make this into a public demonstration, Bruce isn't sure he'd have objected.

Maybe that thought should have disturbed him. It didn't. And it wasn't all of the drugs either. He swallows, rolls his shoulders because being tied is starting to set an ache there. He has to look away when Tim lets him go. He did not want to be caught staring. ]

Yes, sir.

[ A less behaved Bruce Wayne would have left Tim little choice but to put on a lewd demonstration. Tim, after all, cannot appear as anything but the sort of person perfectly fine with owning another human being, and punishment would be natural in the setting they find themselves in. But his mentor is behaving, and Tim is not the kind to force Bruce into something against his will without good reason.

If Tim wants to fantasize about what that might look like, that's his own business.

It's only once he's satisfied with what he's gathered that Tim finally stands. As he does, the effects of his fantasies becomes more apparent. He's noticeably half hard just from having Bruce on a leash being forced to listen to him. And isn't that something. It should go without comment, at least, because that doesn't seem like anything Bruce is going to bring up when they write a mission report. ]

Let's go.

[ Another rough tug on the leash to force the man to stand. That dark part of him would rather see Bruce crawl, but with his hands bound it's not an option. Pity. But it's time to lead him out of the warehouse, eyes all over the room still focused entirely on them. ]

[ Bruce's eyes are drawn to Tim's lap the second he's out of his seat. His lips part, his breathing heavier than it was just moments before. His own cock twitching at the sight. The cocktail swirls in his blood, twists something inside of him. He wants to ask what's on Tim's mind. But he's not given the chance.

When Tim tugs at his leash, rebellion flares to life in him again. The sort that starts hot like coals in the belly. The sort that might have put him in a difficult position if anyone other than Tim held his leash. He ignored it before because he really hadn't been in any place to do something about it. But it burns him, pushes against the docile kind of calm the drugs had been meant to introduce. It's supposed to make him obedient, open to suggestion. Compliant. Maybe they were losing their grip on him.

Because it's almost like he remembers he's bigger than Tim. Stronger too. And if he did not want to be moved, he would not be. So Tim tugs but Bruce doesn't move. He knows there are eyes on him, on them both. But he only looks at Tim. ]

Make me.

[ The smirk that curls onto Tim's lips is dark and vicious as he turns his head to eye the defiant man on his knees. Hard to tell whether it's genuine or if his keen undercover skills are hard at work. The young man steps closer to him, eyes lit with a dangerous gleam.

Their little audience will catch on if he doesn't do this now. No slave owner would look their other way when their shiny new toy was acting this way. ]

It appears that you still need to learn who owns you.

[ His skilled fingers grab a fist full of Bruce's dark hair at the back of his head. It's a tight grip, unyielding and mean. Tim uses that grip to force Bruce's head forward, drawing him closer until Tim's clothed cock is rubbing against his face. Those long, pretty eyelashes flutter at the pressure and the soft moan from his lips is entirely authentic. ]

If I feel even a hint of teeth, I'll have them torn out.

[ It's said like it's just that simple, like he's not threatening to permanently disfigure the man who taught him most of what he knows. Tim has all of the power right now, and the sooner Bruce accepts it the less he's going to have to physically hurt him. The humiliation will continue regardless. ]

Now tell me you want to taste my cock. Right here in front of everyone. Maybe if you ask nice enough I'll give it to you.

[ His head tilts as he looks down at Bruce. Fuck, he can feel precum soaking a small patch of his boxers. ]

[ He doesn't miss the vicious gleam in Tim's eye when he realizes his order had not been obeyed. It doesn't quell the defiance stirring hotly under Bruce's skin. Doesn't quell the flood of desire in his blood either. Tim was beautiful to look at, beautiful while he was fighting. Beautiful when he worked. Sometimes, Bruce had a hard time looking away.

Right then? He didn't want to. He meets Tim's gaze as he grips the back of his head, sets a hard line in his jaw, defiance in the face of the danger. His grip is strong, painful even, but Bruce knew how to compartmentalize, even under the influence it may as well be second nature. It's hard to say if he's caught on to the performance of it all. He's aware enough to know they have an audience. But the significance might be lost in the haze of everything else happening. He lets his head be maneuvered into place and Tim did not have to do much to encourage him. Bruce could not help but nuzzle into Tim's erection, welcoming the warmth of it against his cheek.

Bruce mouths at him over his expensive trousers and pulls back enough to look up at Tim from where he sits. Tim might notice how clear Bruce's eyes seem now, though his pupils are still blown wide. Though it might be less the drugs doing and more his own arousal. ]

I want to taste your cock, sir.

See, I knew you could be a good boy.

[ His voice is practically a purr, high on seeing someone so powerful reduced to nothing at his feet. The grip he has on Bruce's hair doesn't loosen though. Not yet, just in case. Tim's smart enough to know that his carefully maintained control is delicate and he had better not misstep. Even the clarity in the man's eyes doesn't soften his resolve. They are professionals. He's just doing what Batman would expect of him on a mission.

Tim had always thought that when it came to getting his dick out in public it would be at the very least something he thought through. Never imagined that he'd be reaching down to undo his slacks, and ease his erection out from his tight black boxer briefs so that it hung in Bruce's face. It was easy to pretend this was all for the mission, but that didn't really explain the eager twitch of his cock as it's freed.

There's a moment of indulgence when he rubs the hard flesh against Bruce's cheek, let's himself have a few quick little thrusts to help take some of the edge of. Then Tim's wrapping his hand around himself and rubbing the spongey head against Bruce's lips, smearing precum onto them. ]

Open up for me.

[ His voice drops lower, lust and pleasure turning it more husky. Tim's hips nudge forward, pressing against Bruce more insistently. ]

[ There's something in how Tim's performing his role to the letter. It stirs in Bruce deeply watching his boy be perfect just like he taught him to be that he doesn't waver even when Bruce's mind comes back to him by inches. It would be silly to deny this isn't something he wants, when his own erection is straining against the dirty sweats they shoved him in before putting him up for sale. Maybe he would have waited and wanted quietly until they had a little more privacy than this, but it is what it is and Bruce did not want this to stop. Not until he'd drained Tim dry.

His eyes drop to watch Tim's hands work his pants open. Wished his own were free so he could do it himself. Not that it truly mattered when the end result was the same: Bruce eying Tim's cock, looking fit to swallow it down. He flicks a knowing gaze up at Tim then slides his eyes shut when he feels it pushing against his cheek. At Tim's command, Bruce's lips part just enough that he can slide into it with little effort. He keeps his tongue flat, savoring the taste and the heat as Tim pushed as far as he wanted.

Bruce could take it. He looks up at Tim again because he wants to see the reaction, watch those pretty lashes flutter from the pleasure. That would be perfect too. ]

[ Those pretty eyelashes do flutter, long and dark and maybe a little bit too feminine. His lips part in a moan that's a little more high pitched but just soft enough that it probably couldn't be brushed off as performative. Tim isn't loud in general and has never been with anyone capable of changing that in the bedroom--further evidence that in that moment he's not strictly thinking about what their audience wants to hear.

The pretty pink that blossoms on his cheeks stretches downward past his collar, though how far it goes is a secret no one there is privy to. The wet warmth of Bruce's mouth is enough to have Tim's hips rocking forward insistently, forcing more of his cock along that amazing tongue until Bruce's nose is pressed against perfectly smooth skin. He makes his mentor to stay there for a moment, to really good a good feel for him, then eases himself back. But there's hardly time for a breath and then he really lets go, fucks into Bruce's mouth rudely. Another moan is pulled from deep in his chest, his grip cruelly tightening in the man's hair. A thought about how he should feel guilty about all of this whispers through his mind but is gone nearly instantly. ]

Mmm, I can see why you cost so much now.

[ He's smirking as he talks. Their audience fades further into the background, a dangerous thing to let his mind do. But too much of his focus is taken up by Bruce's mouth. Is it really Tim's fault? ]

[ Tim's moan reverberates through him, echoes in his skull and in his chest. It's that genuine sound he makes that helps to narrow Bruce's focus to a singular focal point: he wanted to hear Tim again. And he'd work to make sure that he did. He's quick to adapt for how quickly Tim's pushed himself into Bruce's mouth and he takes him down to the base without it being too difficult. It takes a minute to work out how to breathe around the cock in his mouth, but by the time Tim pulls out to thrust back in, he's ready for it.

And there it is. That delicious sound Tim makes dragged up from the depths of him. Bruce thinks he could listen to him make that noise all damn day. Despite the grip Tim has on his hair, Bruce stays focused on the task at hand. Breathes when he has the chance to and suckling at the head of Tim's cock when he pulls it back again.

He cannot speak when there's a dick in his mouth of course, but there is a hint of a wry smile at Tim's praise, eyes cutting upward to watch his face because he wanted to remember so when he's free again, and there's a chance to reverse their roles? Tim would have a lot to answer for. ]

[ Blissfully unaware of any plotted revenge against him, Tim simply assumes that the twitching of Bruce's mouth into some sort of smile around his erection is merely the man being pleased with their performance. He knows what's expected of him, that he's supposed to be the best and give every mission everything he has, and he takes that more seriously than most.

But that's not what has Tim eagerly fucking into Bruce's mouth, selfishly taking every ounce of pleasure he can get. It's so good he barely keeps control over himself. The desire to make it last, to draw it out, makes his hips slow when he feels like he's too close to the edge. The moment he's sure he's not going to finish off too fast, he's right back to the brutal pace only the most fine tuned muscles were capable of. It's not necessary, there's no need to draw it out, but Tim still does. There isn't a lick of concern about Bruce's comfort or his pleasure. Slaves don't get have feelings worth worrying about, after all.

The hand that's still holding his mentor's leash gives a rough tug and Tim looks like he's on top of the world. His perfect hair sticks to his sweaty neck, lips red from being bitten to keep quiet twisting into a sadistic little smirk, those pretty blue eyes memorizing the look on Bruce's face as he's made to be humiliated in front of a crowd. Despite his very best efforts, he's not going to be able to last that much longer. ]

[ Thing was, Bruce is pleased. Very pleased in fact to have this opportunity to watch Tim unravel, watch all of his careful, harsh training fall away under the weight of his pleasure. Bruce wouldn't have an answer if he was ever asked why he enjoyed it. At least not one he'd be willing to share. He did wish his hands were free so he had greater control over Tim's speed, so he could better manage the ache setting up in his jaw and how often he'd be able to take a breath. But he didn't have the luxury. He's a slave after all. His comfort didn't matter and it never would so long as they were here.

So Bruce did what he did best: he ignored it and continued to work his tongue against Tim's shaft, licking as much as his brutal thrusting would allow.

The yank on the leash drags Bruce forward and he's not prepared for how far into his mouth Tim's cock goes. It gags him for all of the seconds Tim is at the back of his throat. His eyes water and when he's given even a moment of reprieve he coughs, tries to catch his breath. It's the first time he's actually felt humiliated here. He never liked being caught off guard. Tim would have to answer for that too. ]

[ By now Tim's too far gone to feel too bad about the way he chokes Bruce on his cock. All he can think about is how soft the back of the man's throat is, how close he is to the edge. So yes, he gives Bruce a moment to cough, but then he's right back at it. Pushing the limits again, chasing the high of having his mentor suck him off.

He's a vision when he comes, the beauty of the young man he's become shining through. His hand holds tight at Bruce's head to prevent him from pulling back all the way, back arching dramatically. Those gorgeous, wet lashes flutter, teeth sinking hard enough into his bottom lip that it's likely to be sore later. He needs to keep himself from saying anything that might give away that he knows Bruce, knew him before all of this. It's for their own safety. And anyway, he doesn't feel the pain, because he's too busy on cloud nine. Every nerve in his body lights with pleasure as he unloads, hips bucking eager and almost mean.

It's only when he's sure that he's fully done that he's willing to let Bruce's head go so he can get some air. Still, he needs to stand there for a moment and collect himself. All of his senses have gone offline and his brain needs to rearrange some things before he's going to be capable of any thought at all. It takes an awful lot to stupefy someone with Tim Drake's brain power, but it worked. At least temporarily. ]

[ The crowd murmurs, enthralled at the sight of Gotham's Favorite Son choking on the cock of this man half his size. Bruce must've been a sight, kneeling in front of Tim with red, watery eyes and tear stained cheeks and arms bound tight enough behind him to cut through his skin. The choking helps to shake away more of the fog of the drugs. It helps to make him more aware of his surroundings, how perilous things are getting. How close Tim is getting.

Bruce isn't left to wonder what will happen when Tim comes. As Tim empties into his mouth and down his throat, Bruce swallows as much of it as he can before his lungs begin to burn. He can put it away. He can hold that pain in if only so he can watch how beautiful Tim is as he unravels. He never wanted to look away, just so he could remember the way he looks right then always.

Bruce couldn't wait to get his hands on him.

When Tim is done, when he's finally let go of Bruce's head, he eases back and sits on his heels while he evens out his breathing, forces himself back into something close to his baseline. His jaw aches and his throat is sore and he's still so painfully hard. But none of that matters. He licks his lips, the taste of Tim still lingers and when he's found his voice he speaks up. ]

Was it good, sir?

[ His voice is raw, low and raspy. There's nothing subservient about the look in his eye as he stares up at Tim. ]

[ The younger man blinks once, twice, and then that icy veneer slips back over his face. Despite his flushed cheeks, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his lips have turned red from being bitten, one might think Bruce hadn't just sucked Tim's brains out through his dick. The quickness with which he recovers is pure skill on display, a performance for the ages.

He looks utterly unimpressed as he gazes down at Bruce, choosing wisely to ignore that he can see how hard he is in what he'd been given to wear. It's natural to get aroused by performing a sex act, Bruce doesn't have any actual desire for him, no matter what sort of heat he might see in those eyes. This is a performance. Or it's just the drugs, or something. People are actually clapping and they don't even know the half of it. ]

I suppose that will have to be good enough, clearly you'll need more training.

[ Tim is quick to tuck his cock back into his pants and do them back up. He can play it off as being shy if need be, but he is not at all into the idea of all of these weird rich perverts getting an eyeful. The things he put up with to ensure a mission's success. Sigh. ]

Now, let's go. I'm not interested in playing any games with you, so think twice before you test my patience.

[ There's another harsh little yank at the leash, more insistent this time. He has no interest in lingering around this place any longer, he needs to get them both the hell out of there so he can see if Bruce needs anything to counteract the drugs in his system. ]

[ If Bruce didn't know Tim, if he hadn't trained him to put the mission's success over everything, he might believed Tim had really been unsatisfied. He might have believed that the performance - the way Tim's gaze turns cold, the unsympathetic body language - was a genuine display. But Bruce did know his boy and had enough of himself back to realize how he might be able to weaponize that knowledge later, when they were out of here.

He only allows himself a moment or two more to collect himself before he's getting to his feet, staggering only a little as he regains his balance. Or maybe it's part of the performance. Like the erection Tim seems convinced isn't because of him. If he knew what Tim was thinking, Bruce might have leaned down and told him to untie him so Bruce could show him exactly what he'd done to him. Just loud enough for Tim to hear. But (unfortunately for Bruce), he's not a mind reader and could only draw conclusions from what he'd observed.

The yank on the leash he's come to expect so he does not stumble when Tim does it. He's properly obedient this time, follows without a word. No more games, no more testing the limits of Tim's patience. He's as ready to get out of here as Tim is.

But when they were safe? He'd have something to say. ]

[ It's a relief that Bruce's stubborn streak seems to be over for now. Lewd acts are supposed to be reserved for whoever he's with, not a group of disgusting pervs eyeing his junk that he's never so much as talked to before.

The Redbird was, wisely, left at the Nest, since he isn't out as Red Robin tonight. Instead, the car waiting for the two of them outside is Tim Drake's very expensive jet black Jaguar with tinted windows. There's no driver waiting, because he's not Bruce Wayne. Kids his age prefer to drive themselves around, to show off their flashy vehicles. ]

Get in.

[ Bruce is shoved rather unceremoniously in the back, and the door clicks shut behind him. There are bound to be cameras everywhere, so Tim's not just going to lean over and cut him loose like this. He's also not going to risk Bruce trying to break free and escape from the car. Knowing where the man's mind is at is challenging when he's completely sober, and Tim isn't sure how much influence the drugs are having. It won't kill him to be tied up a little longer.

Tim stays quiet. What are you supposed to say to someone that has been your mentor for half a decade who then choked on your cock for the sake of a mission? He keeps his eyes on the road and focuses on getting Bruce back to the cave. ]

[ It feels like stepping into another world when they're finally outside. The heat inside was becoming oppressive, suffocating, unbearable and Bruce appreciates the stiff breeze they walk out into. Even if it makes him feel a little bit clammy, considering the sweat that's slicked his hair to his forehead. He ducks his head when Tim pushes him into the backseat, though it only takes a few turns before he's upright and the car is moving.

He rides in silence for only a brief moment - until the building is out of sight - before he's leaning forward, into the space between the driver's seat and the passenger's. Tim is quiet and that's fine. Bruce didn't need him to talk. He just needs him to listen as he rattles off what he's been injected with like a grocery list.

He doesn't feel the sedatives much anymore, despite the high dosage they must have given him. That's not what concerns him. He sits back to rest, but his eyes are still on Tim. ]

You did well.

[ Tension pulls up his spine the moment Bruce leans forward, but he obediently takes mental notes on what he's told. His memory is flawless, so no concerns there. It is a little shocking to hear just how much they must have hit Bruce with. Sure, the man has trained his body to resist certain things, but it's still concerning.

It did help him, when it came to making Bruce behave.

Up until--The scene is just starting to play out in his mind again when Bruce compliments him. It's a rarity for sure, and Tim has spent years trying to please him. Color dusts his cheeks and he has to clear his throat before he speaks. Repeats the same thing he's been told hundreds of times. ]

The mission always comes first.

[ So he's not going to apologize. And if the whole thing created all new fantasies for him to think about later, that's his own business.

It is, fortunately, not that long of a drive to the cave. Tim pulls in and parks his fancy car, then immediately heads to the back so he can untie his mentor. ]

[ He doesn't expect anything less from Tim. Bruce had trained him to be as efficient and precise as he was. He would not argue with the end results, even if the execution needed fine tuning. Apologies weren't necessary, especially now that they were a step closer to dismantling Sionis' operation. It was part of the job and Bruce new the risks going in. He didn't want Tim to apologize for doing the right thing.

He's glad when the car stops and the door opens and his bindings are finally loosened. His shoulders are stiff and his elbows crack as he eases his arms back into a more natural position.

The collar and leash come off a moment later and Bruce rubs where it's chafed a little. ]

File your report and then come find me. There's something I want to ask you.

[ It sounds somewhat ominous, but a lot of what Bruce says to him does. He figures it's about following the next lead, so Tim doesn't spare any time worrying. He's loyal to a fault and takes cases every bit as seriously as the man who trained him, and it shows in the way he heads straight to the computer and gets to work. Like nothing at all had happened between them. His fingers fly without pause until he's at the point of describing Bruce disobeying and what he'd had to do as a cover.

Tim's not worried about embarrassing his mentor, but there's also no need to be extremely explicit. He types up something about punishing misbehavior by having Bruce perform a sexual act with his mouth to prevent them from being discovered and leaves it at that.

Once he's finished, the young man heads for the stairs back up from the cave and into the manor. Thinks it's likely Bruce wanted to shower off or put on some real clothes, and heads for his giant room to look for him. ]

[ Maybe on some other night, for some other case, Bruce would have been a little more meticulous and critical of what Tim was putting in his report. It's such a rare thing for plans to go awry, especially in a way that Bruce could not maneuver his way out of. He might have wanted every angle on record so what happened tonight would never happen again. But, as it was, Bruce isn't overly concerned about what Tim might write. He expects accuracy and truthfulness, even when it came to Bruce's punishment for his disobedience. No one outside of their orbit would see it and Bruce trusted Tim to describe what happened as precisely as he needed to.

Bruce leaves Tim to it, slipping out of the cave and into the manor proper where he starts the shower to scrub off the grime of the day's events. It seems inevitable that his thoughts turn back to Tim with the taste of him still lingering on his tongue and his cock still half hard. He thinks about the smooth, clean lines of his body and the pretty way his cheeks flushed. And how badly Bruce had wanted to touch him. That's the image he comes to, an arm braced against the wall of the shower, hips bucking into his hand.

When Tim finds him, he's dressed in a robe cinched around his waist and eating something simple Alfred brought him not too long ago. There's enough for two. ]

Are you hungry?

[ He gestures for Tim to join him, even if he isn't. ]

[ There's a bit of a shrug in response, but Tim obeys and has a seat at the table. He's not all that hungry, but he's content to pick a little at the food in front of him. Any time he stops by the manor, Alfred sends him home with a tower of tupperware full of food, so he's not worried about missing out. And, as a bonus, that does wonders to keep his busy-body family members from nagging him about taking care of himself.

As he munches on a little snack, his eyes stay on Bruce's face. Tim has a habit of gazing at him with reverence and curiosity in equal measure. Batman has been his hero since he was a little kid, and he's never quite grown out of his fascination with the man behind the mask. That doesn't mean he always agrees with him, or that he always does as he's told, but he's a hell of a lot more likely to than any of the other kids he's taken under his wing.

Still not the favorite, though. ]

There was something you wanted to discuss?

[ There's a half sort of smile on his lips, head tilted as he waits to hear what there is to talk about. Most nights after patrol, Tim just heads back to his own place rather than the cave or the manor. It's not like it was when he was Robin and practically glued to the man's side. But this was an odd night, which makes the rest of it rather unpredictable, and maybe a little... exciting? ]

[ Bruce is subtle, but if Tim is paying attention, he'd realize Bruce's eyes never leave him as he makes his way over. He watches the effortless way Tim moves and it stirs up those feelings he thought he'd washed away in the shower. But they burn like coals under his skin. He wonders if Tim can feel the heat of it when he's close.

He's pleased when Tim eats, as silly as that is. But he knows Tim, knows he's picked up the worst of Bruce's habits. Sometimes cases could be all consuming. Sometimes he can forgo all the things that make him human - sleeping, eating, or just caring for himself at all.

Still not the favorite, but he's glad Tim's eating something. ]

There is.

[ He eats another bite, but puts the fork down and wipes his mouth so he can do this without distraction. Or rather without anymore distraction. ]

How do you feel about tonight's mission?

[ He'd start simple and easy. ]

[ After the endless hours of training, of course Tim's aware of the eyes on him. He'd be an awful prodigy if those skills weren't extremely refined. The question is: Why is Bruce looking at him like that? He's not usually a difficult man to figure out. They know each other quite well after all of their time together. But he's watching him. Studying him.

He copies his mentor when he sets down his fork, head tilting not unlike a puppy when he first ears the question. This is far from a normal occurrence--going over missions out of costume and out of the cave.

Then comes color to his cheeks as the scene from before plays out in his head again. Bruce on his knees, staring up at him with his mouth full of Tim's cock. He's suddenly grateful they're at the little table because he can already feel his arousal stirring right back up. It's not his fault that he's a healthy young man, okay? ]

It was a successful extraction. I didn't have a lot of information going in, but I did the best I could with what I had. I may not have lived up to my usual standards of acculturating while undercover, but I was surprised by how--well, by how defiant you were when I was trying to get you out of there. I need to work on not letting myself get so distracted.

[ Tim has high standards for himself. Always will. He's also quite practical. There are always going to be things to improve on, and accepting mediocrity won't help them achieve the justice that they're after. ]

[ Bruce's expression is unreadable, but his eyes are sharp and focused - studying Tim as if he's trying dissect him down to his base components. And when he's done, Bruce is silent. It's not uncomfortable or drags on for too long. But it's clear Bruce is thinking about his words carefully. ]

You improvised under pressure. It may not have been a perfect execution, but you adapted and it got us both out.

[ That Tim had managed such a seamless transition in the wake of Bruce's...uncooperative display was an impressive feat. Bruce sits back in his chair, considers Tim for a moment longer before he speaks again, voice a little softer this time. Softer for Bruce. ]

Am I always distracting in the field, Tim?

[ It probably says something about Tim that his first instinct is to lie. He's lied to Batman before, made up an entire uncle so he could avoid being adopted and risk having someone else to lose. And there's a bit of pride in the fact that he's the only Robin that had to fight for his position, that he's gone through more training than any of them. Why would he admit to allowing a distraction?

But also, how could someone like Bruce not be a distraction? Some of Tim's boyish fascination might have worn off through the years, but the rest of it's still there. The rest of it sees Bruce as a god. ]

... At times, yes.

[ His own voice is a little more hesitant, and he brings a hand to rub at the back of his own neck. Tim feels a little more vulnerable than he prefers to be. Leave it to Bruce to push him into a space where he feels unprepared. ]

But I've always done my best not to let it affect my performance.

[ It's good that Tim doesn't lie. Because this was a question Bruce already knew the answer to. It isn't much of a stretch to suspect Tim found him distracting, though it isn't something he did on purpose. It was really more a matter of figuring out when that fascination turned into something else. Tim would put the mission before anything else - Bruce knew that.

But what about outside of it? ]

Except tonight.

[ His gaze doesn't waver. Maybe it intensifies a little. But he doesn't seem angry. ]

You were hard long before you put your cock in my mouth.

[ It's not an accusation. Or even a complaint really. He hadn't minded sucking Tim off, even with an audience there to see them. It's just a statement of fact and he leaves it there for Tim to confirm or deny. ]

[ It feels like an accusation. Like he's sitting in a chair under a spotlight being grilled by Batman. Tim knows he's not in danger, but he's disconcerted and his brain scrambles to try to figure out how to respond to a situation like this.

He gazes down at the table, dark hair like a curtain over his crystalline blues. Tim Drake has plenty of faults, but he's never been a coward. That won't start today, either. Not because of Bruce or anyone else that he had to face down. It was how he was trained. ]

I was. [ He lifts his gaze again, steady and unwavering even in the face of Bruce's seemingly entirely neutral eyes. There's heat to his cheeks but he does his very best to will it away. ] I allowed myself to enjoy it because I knew it wouldn't do any harm to the rescue attempt.

[ See? He had still considered the mission like a good boy. But he also fully admitted that he had enjoyed what they'd done. Took pleasure from it that had nothing to do with the job. ]

[ Partly because Bruce means for it to feel that way. He doesn't mind making Tim sweat a little under his questioning if it'll give him the most honest answers. That's what he's looking for, after all.

He listens to Tim's response, pleased when he lifts his gaze up to look him in the eye. No not a coward in the slightest. He would never have been able to call himself Bruce's partner if he'd allowed cowardice to overrule him. And it's so like Tim. Of all of his boys, Tim is the only one he'd ever call his perfect, mirror image. Just like him in all the ways that matter.

Bruce seems satisfied with Tim's answer. He leans forward and rests an arm on the table. ]

Then don't you think you should return the favor?

Oh.

[ So that hadn't really been what Tim was expecting. For a moment he can only stand there stupidly and try to process. Bruce wants him to give him a blowjob?

Fresh blood rises to his cheeks and he swallows hard before his tongue darts it to lick at his bottom lip. He looks nervous, but certainly not offended or against the idea in anyway. ]

Uhm, yeah. If you are okay with it, yeah.

[ Tim stirs in his seat for a moment before forcing himself to stand. His chair scoots back awkwardly and nearly falls over. His eyes are wide, eager. Maybe if he does a good job they could do more things together? He needs to impress. ]

Here or, uh, did you want to wait until you've gotten some sleep?

[ He doesn't think there's much he could say to surprise his boy. As scrutinizing as Bruce had been just moments before, he couldn't really deny he'd been an active participant. It hadn't all been a ruse or the drugs. Or any other excuse he might have used to justify his actions. There'd been some dark part of Bruce that wanted to swallow Tim down and had enjoyed every second of it.

That same darkness that stirs up in him now at the sight of Tim's wide, eager eyes. He'd always been the right one - eager to please and always ready to do what he's asked. Bruce liked that best about him. Obedient and loyal. He shifts in his seat as Tim bolts up out of his own, bringing his legs out from under the table so Tim could see Bruce is half hard already. ]

I don't think it can wait. Come here.

[ Tim's pupils blow wide with interest at the sight of Bruce's forming erection. He's far more obedient than any of his brothers but that isn't what has him stepping closer to Bruce before sliding down to his knees. This isn't a show of what he can be talked into--his desire to do this is too selfish for that. He wants to taste the man on his tongue, wants to know what it would be like.

There's one quick glance up as he grips the robe with pale fingers and moves it out of the way. He doesn't see anything that makes him want to stop, so that same hand instead wraps around Bruce's cock and gives it a few strokes. It's hard not to admire how it feels in his hand, warm and thick. Tim nudges his head in close, gives an almost affectionate, sweet kiss to the tip, then lets his tongue dart out for a few kitten licks.

It's not his first blowjob, but it might be one of the most important ones he ever gives anyone, so he wants to take his time to do it right. Every few seconds he looks up towards Bruce's face, trying to read anything he can in the man's expression. Everyone likes things a little different, he's going to have to figure out what he's into. ]

[ Bruce wouldn't really call his attraction to Tim a secret. It wasn't something he was actively trying to hide, but it was also something he didn't choose to dwell on or talk about. It's a distraction and Bruce didn't afford himself any of those. It's always the Mission first and everything else he had to learn how to fit around it. There's not always room for anything or anyone else.

So this right here? It's a rare moment of pure, unadulterated selfishness.

Bruce watches Tim with a hungry look in his eye as he sinks to his knees in front of him. He'd always been so gorgeous to look at and if Bruce wasn't so aware and deliberate in how he moved in the world, Tim probably would have caught him staring more than once. For the most part, he had settled for furtive glances. But right then, Bruce didn't want to look anywhere else.

Tim's attention has Bruce sucking in a quiet breath and letting it out slow, fingers reaching forward to smooth through his hair. ]

That's good. Keep going.

[ It feels good to have Bruce's attention on him like this. Just as intense as being questioned but in an entirely different light. Touches at the inner most part of him that wants to perform and do a good job for the man that took him under his wing. The reassurance settles him, eases him into the right headspace. He flashes that Robin smile and truly gets to work.

Tim's lips and tongue lavish every inch of the erection in his hand, leaving no inch of skin unworshiped. It's still a bit of teasing, but far more deliberate than he'd started with. He moans as he sucks and kisses at the underside of Bruce's cock, working his way back up to the head. He tongues at the slit, lapping up the bitter flavor before finally easing it into his waiting mouth.

He didn't take all of it at once, not at first. Eased himself down inch by inch to get used to the feeling. The first bob of his head was followed by a demanding suck, and then he lowered himself again. ]

[ There's a rush of something as Tim works him with his mouth. It's heady and warm and floods through his body and Bruce thinks he might just immolate right then and there. He tilts his head back, gives himself only a few moments to just enjoy what Tim is doing. But he pulls himself back not long after. Part of it is the training; he can never really turn it off, even when he knows they're in the safest house in Gotham. The rest though? It's because Bruce wants to remember this. How Tim looks with that cute little smile and how stretched his lips are to accommodate the girth of Bruce's cock sliding past them.

It's perfect. The most perfect thing he's seen. And it takes every ounce of self control he has not to buck into Tim's mouth. He swears under his breath instead, allowing the pleasure of it to work its way through his body through a quiet breath. ]

God, Tim.

[ He says it low and slow, quiet and needy as he feels that demanding suck of Tim's mouth all the way down to his toes. He lifts a hand to tug open his robe and push the fabric out of the way. The other he rests in Tim's hair, resisting the urge to grip it tight so he could work himself up faster. He'd denied himself this for long enough. He wants to enjoy it. ]

[ Sweet, sticky heat pools in Tim's stomach when he hears his name said like that. He loves it, loves the reassurance that he's the one Bruce wants. The sight of his mentor's body being exposed makes him moan around the cock in his mouth, vibrations shooting down the length of it.

Tim's so hard he's squirming, ignoring his own needs as much as he can. This is about Bruce, about giving the man that has helped him so much exactly what he deserves. One of his hands reaches down to cup his balls, rubbing at them lightly with his fingertips. He pulls his mouth off for a moment to speak, and when he does his lips are swollen and red. ]

I like when you say my name.

[ It's said innocently enough, and he gives a sweet little boyish smile before he leans down to kiss at the sac he's been toying with. He makes sure not to neglect Bruce's erection, though, his free hand stroking up and down at an even pace. ]

Tell me--...God.

[ After this, Bruce would never be able to deny how much he's always desired Tim. And if he's honest with himself, he wouldn't want to. Because there's something intoxicating about the sight of Tim with Bruce's cock in his mouth. Bruce can feel the vibration from Tim's moan throughout his body and it feels like its lit every nerve on fire and it's burning through his paper thin patience. His fingers curl against Tim's scalp, not quite pulling, but Tim would know that heavy hand was there.

Bruce doesn't mind the loss of warmth so much when Tim pulls off, the pleasure spiking at the sight of his swollen lips. He wants to reach for Tim, pull him up close so he could kiss those lips like he's going to steal every breath he takes. But Tim steals his first. With that sweet smile and near expert stroking. It's in a sharp exhale. He only needs a minute to regain his composure. ]

--what else you like.

[ The hand in Tim's hair slides down to his shoulder, squeezes it. Even in the haze of pleasure, Bruce could see the way he squirms. If he wants a little bit of relief, Bruce's amenable to give it to him. As long as he asks for it. Nicely. ]

[ Tim doesn't even need to admit anything, surely Bruce can tell how much he appreciates the sheer strength of the man by the way he shudders at the squeeze to his shoulder and his pupils blow wide with interest.

Bruce's violence doesn't tend to get aimed at Tim, not like his older brothers, but he wouldn't mind if things were a little bit rougher. It's not something that he usually gets to have, being a well-oiled fighting machine amongst mostly everyday citizens of Gotham. That lack of real satisfaction might be lending something as to why he's on his knees in front of the big man in charge. ]

I like to be manhandled.

[ The scent that fills his nose is masculine and deliciously Bruce, and it only takes a bit of that before Tim is full on distracted from their conversation again. His mouth wraps back around that thick erection, swallowing down as much as he can manage. He's like a man starved, eager enough that he's quite literally gagging for it, but he knows his own limits and how not to choke too hard. It's that same eager enthusiasm that first showed when he became Robin resurfacing again in an entirely different way. Something about Bruce just gets to him. ]

[ It shouldn't turn Bruce on so much, but it does. It's something dark that lives inside of him, that he's so far been able to put away from himself. But it claws itself free when Tim admits he likes to be manhandled. It claws itself free and drags those dark thoughts to the fore – he's thought about what Tim would look like pinned underneath him. Or kneeling in front of him, arms pinned against his back while Bruce fucked him into the mattress until he couldn't walk the next day.

He didn't direct his violence at Tim, but he could and it should disturb him how easily he could do it. But it doesn't. It just cranks up the heat of Bruce's desire until it feels like he's going to combust. The warmth of Tim's mouth and all of that pleasure builds up in him and it makes him buck his hips.

He can feel his orgasm building while Tim chokes on his cock and when it hits him, it hits him hard, like a punch to the gut. He digs his fingers into Tim's shoulder, pressing bruises there. ]

You.

[ Bruce doesn't have the breath to finish that thought, his chest heaving while he rides that high for as long as he can. It's only a moment or two though before he's willing himself back down to earth. ]

I'm not finished with you.

[ Both of Tim's hands hold onto his mentor's hips when he bucks, but it's not in an attempt to control the movement. He needs something to hold onto while Bruce fucks eagerly into his mouth. And he loves it, drooling all over himself from how bad he wants to taste the man's release on the back of his tongue.

He swallows eagerly, every drop that he's given, like the good boy that he is. Those pretty dark lashes flutter with delight and the moan that he gives is obscene. Like he might come just from finally getting what he wants. Tim's not quite there, but in the moment it was closer than he's going to admit to.

Shouldn't come as a surprise at all that Bruce manages to recover so quickly, faster than anyone Tim's ever been with. This is Batman--Tim's god--and no one has better control over their own bodies than him. It's admirable, sure, but also quite the turn on to hear that Bruce isn't sated from a simple blowjob. That already he wants more. ]

Then tell me what you want to do.

[ Is he in much of a position to be making demands? Maybe not, he's not really the one in control here. But this is Tim Drake, and he's going to try and get away with as much as he can. It's in his nature to walk the line. ]

[ The second his cock slid into Tim's mouth, Bruce knew this wouldn't be enough to satisfy him. Not completely. His desire for him had escape containment and at the moment, it's really the only thing he cared about. Taking as much as Tim is willing to give to him.

And maybe a little more that he wasn't.

Bruce's breathing continues to even out until he's no longer needing those long pulls of air. He reaches for Tim, fingers curling around his wrist to help him get to his feet and so he'd have the leverage to tug him onto his lap. ]

Come here.

[ When he settles, Bruce leans in to kiss him, fingers gripping his hips so he could drag him close and feel his length pressing into his stomach. ]

[ It's almost pathetic how little resistance there was to being pulled into Bruce's lap. Tim should be hesitating, thinking twice about all of this. But there's no doubt in his mind that he wants this man, every twisted dark part of him, and he sees no benefit in pretending that's not true.

So he perches obediently, straddling Bruce and giving a soft, needy little sound into his mouth the moment he's kissed. No doubt he can taste himself on Tim's tongue, and why that turns Tim on so much he can't be sure.

His mouth is a little tired from the blowjob, but he still kisses back with a fierce, unrivaled eagerness. Curls their tongues together deliciously, letting the tiny bumps rub together in a way that has his cock aching even more. Which has his hips rocking forward, grinding his erection against Bruce's firm abdomen. He gives another groan into their liplock, soft because he doesn't tend to make a lot of noise, but still noticeable. ]

[ Pathetic or not, it's perfect. Bruce always appreciated when his boys were obedient. It always made navigating the relationship so much easier for him. Especially with Tim, when things felt...fragile, somehow. With Dick and with Jason, Bruce never had to guess how they felt. They were direct and in some cases, hostile when they thought it necessary.

Tim? Would pull away. Leave him to wonder about the status of things. If he could make it easier for himself, he would. And if he could have Tim in the process? All the better.

It shouldn't be so hot that he can taste himself on Tim's tongue. But it is and that heady, intoxicating feeling goes straight to his own cock. Feeling Tim's erection grinding into his stomach makes Bruce smirk into the kiss, hands working with Tim's hips to encourage him. He's sure Tim could feel him getting hard again.

His hands skate beneath Tim's shirt, ghosting over ribs and muscle before finally thumbing over one of his nipples. ]

Help me get this off you.

[ That thumb toying with his nipple makes Tim shudder and goosebumps form along his body. It's not like he's going to deny Bruce the pleasure of seeing him bare, not when they've already gotten this far and Tim is ridiculously hard. There's a little wet patch at the front of his pants that gives away just how eager he is, cock eagerly leaking at the idea of getting more of this treatment.

So who is he to argue when Bruce tells him to take his shirt off? Tim doesn't have any shame about the way he strips nor does he take the time to put on a show. That's not what he thinks Bruce is after at the moment, and despite his little acts of rebellion he does still aim to please. Especially him. So the soft fabric is tossed in a random direction and that is that.

He idly thinks about admitting to his mentor that the first time he came, it was with thoughts of Batman running through his imagination. But he doesn't want to say anything stupid and risk ruining what they've gotten up to, so he chooses to bite that one back. ]

Should've said you wanted me, B. I would've let you had me before this.

[ There's just the slightest hint of a teasing purr to his words, long dark eyelashes fluttering once before Tim leans in to catch the man's lips again. He's not overly submissive in the way that he kisses, likes to give as much as he gets. ]

[ It's as much about admiring Tim as it is admiring his own handiwork. Tim is lean and smooth, his muscles taut and perfect. Bruce could watch him all day. Could watch him fight and watch him work through his case files and watch him train and never grow tired of the sight of him. He could have him seated on his lap, watching him toss that shirt off into some forgotten part of the room and never grow tired of the sight of him.

It's that eagerness to please that draws him in. Even through those little acts of rebellion, Tim wants Bruce's approval and it makes having what he wants so much easier. Maybe it isn't right or fair or good for either of them. But, Bruce never claimed to be a good person. Deep down? He knows that he isn't.

He smirks at Tim, palming over his erection with a few teasing strokes over Tim's pants. If he had ever discovered Tim's fantasy, he wouldn't have been so reticent about his own. That quiet moment in the shower certainly wasn't the first time Bruce had jerked himself to thoughts of Tim.

Bruce leans into that kiss, lips parting to press it deeper against Tim's mouth. He knows how Bruce likes to be kissed, even with this little fight for dominance. Breaking it only long enough to answer him: ]

We'll just have to make up for lost time.

[ His fingers hook into the waistband of Tim's trousers next, tugging at them. He's at least still patient enough not to just tear them open. ]

These next.

[ One of those strong hands rubs at him through his pants and Tim can't bite back the groan that bubbles from deep in his chest, soft but strong.

Tim is biased, and he really does love his brothers, but he's always believed he's the best sidekick for Bruce because of how well they work together in the field. Fit into each other perfectly as Batman and Robin, able to accomplish things that should be impossible with ease. So it makes perfect sense to him that they would fit together this way, too.

It only takes two words from Bruce before Tim is fumbling both hands down to shuck his pants off. Whatever pride he has in being so independent is wiped away by eagerness because the only thing he can think about is what sort of sounds he can drag out of a man that's always so silent, if he's good enough. And Tim is sure he can be good enough.

He has to wriggle around a little to get the pants fully off without leaving Bruce's lap, so while he's doing it he strips his boxer-briefs off, too. Might as well not waste time. It's not like his mentor hasn't seen him naked hundreds of times already. Just not ever in this context. ]

We're gonna have to do a lot to make up for all that time, then.

[ He agrees easily and then dips in to catch Bruce's lips again, that same blend of fierce and desperate. ]

Then you should come stay here for a while.

[ They still had a case to close. But more pressingly, they had time to catch up on.

Bruce likes the weight of Tim in his lap and he can't help but smirk at the clever way he sheds his pants and boxers. Still efficient despite straddling Bruce's lap. He has to sit back for a minute, to admire him now that Bruce could see him without all of his clothes in the way. Without the haze of the drugs clouding his vision and a crowd zeroed in on them. No distractions.

Just Bruce and Tim like he's always liked it.

If he were someone else, he might have suggested a weekend getaway – something cozy and private so they could do this on every horizontal surface they could find. But Bruce would never turn his back on the mission like that. Not before Sionis' trafficking operation had been shutdown. He'd have to settle for stolen moments like this one.

He reaches between them as Tim leans in to kiss him again. He could feel that fierceness and desperation in the way their lips collide. Bruce groans into it, shifting his weight so Tim would start to bend back toward the table behind him. Bruce wraps his fingers around his length, stroking him with slow, lazy fingers. ]

[ It occurs to Tim, faintly, that if Bruce were to want to manipulate him back into being at the manor all the time, this would be the most successful way to do it. Because his response is just to smile and make an affirmative sound into their kiss, an agreement to stay for a while. He feels good, being this desired by a man he'd spent plenty of years worshiping.

And yet he would have turned down an offer to disappear on vacation together for the very same reason. The mission comes first, always.

That doesn't mean they can't have a few hours to themselves, though--no one worked all the time, right?

Hearing such a primal groan from Bruce zaps every nerve in Tim's body at once, makes the hair on the back of his neck stand with the overwhelming flood of arousal rushing through his body all at once. He lets himself be pressed back on the table without much of a fight, fingers skimming the surface to try to find something to hold onto.

The slow strokes drive Tim a little crazy, and he kisses Bruce with the urgency he wishes the man's hand would use. He's greedy, even with as much as he's gotten. There's a void in his chest created from lack of attention, and he intends to fill it as much as he can with the man he's kissing. ]

[ For a man with so much on his plate, he could be singularly focused with the right kind of motivation. The Mission is all consuming - the only thing that would ever matter at the end of the day. But Tim could be that too. There's something about him that Bruce couldn't quite put his finger on, but that something had a way of catching and holding his attention, even if it's just a little while.

Tim's weight shifts, pressing against the table, while Bruce held him up with his legs wrapped around his waist.

Bruce kisses Tim like he'd never have enough of him. Like this would all be over if they stopped. There's a little more urgency in how Bruce strokes him, and each little noise he can hear from his boy only makes the need to pin him and take his fill stronger. When he pulls away to breathe, he bows his body over Tim's, letting his mouth ghost kisses over any exposed skin he could find. His free hand slips lower, between his cheeks to tease his entrance open. ]

[ Bruce has always been huge compared to Tim, and it's so much more apparent when they're pressed together this way. He's not sure why it turns him on as much as it does--probably something to do with how easily the guy could snap him in half if he wanted to. Tim's not an adrenaline junkie like some of his siblings, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like the idea of a little danger.

That finger rubs at him and the desire in him absolutely combusts like a fire burning hot enough to completely envelop everything around him. Tim's usual quiet nature in the bedroom isn't because he's bored or that he dislikes his pleasure being obvious, it's just how he's always been. Yet somehow Bruce erases that in him, makes it so easy for him to groan against his mentor's lips.

Tim's pretty sure he wants him more than he's ever wanted anything.]

Are you going to fuck me?

[ It isn't asked innocently at all, judging by his tone and the smirk on his lips. He presses closer to encourage Bruce to take anything he wants from him because he's very into the idea. ]

[ Tim is small compared to him and Tim isn't the only one who likes it. It wouldn't be anything to take his wrists in one hand. Tim's just the right size for it. Pin him down so he couldn't escape. Make him pay for that display in Sionis's warehouse just hours ago. It wouldn't be anything at all. The thought is dark and it curls up tight inside of Bruce, wraps around him like a vise. He wouldn't be able to shake it, no matter how hard he tried.

Part of him thinks Tim doesn't need to know all of the dark things Bruce has thought about him. That this is still new and despite his enthusiasm, knowing what Bruce has fantasized about doing to him could be off putting. Maybe when they're more established, when the footing is sure and Bruce has got Tim reeled in tight enough he can't move, he'll show him just what he's been doing to him for all of these years.

Bruce smirks as Tim groans, quietly pleased he's broken down another little barrier between them. He didn't need to hear it to know Tim's satisfied. But that satisfaction is incomparable. ]

Do you want me to?

[ Tim pressing closer answers the question, though hearing it would send another little thrill down his spine. He's so hard it aches and he would have been tempted to do it regardless of Tim's response. Bruce sheds his robe, letting it pool on the chair behind him. So Tim could get a good look at the man underneath the armor. ]

[ It's too hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Tim wants Bruce, and his desire only burns hotter when he gets a good look at him like this. He might as well be carved out of marble, big, and muscular, and perfect. He has to bite the inside of his cheek so he doesn't groan too dramatically, hard enough that he nearly draws blood. ]

Yes. I want you to fuck me, Bruce.

[ As he says it, he's looking at his mentor under those long dark eyelashes. Feigning like he wasn't purposefully using vulgar language he would have gotten in trouble for when he was younger. And he uses the man's name on purpose, too. So Bruce knows that Tim's not imagining anyone else. He suspects he'll like that.

Really, Tim's not such a prideful bastard that he's above admitting what he wants, but it'll take significantly more if the man actually wants him to beg for it. That level of vulnerability is something he's never been good at. Even with the person he's admired the majority of his life.

His hands explore the planes of skin exposed to his view, equally reverent and impressed. Tim thinks about getting his mouth on Bruce's abdomen. Licking and sucking little bites there that leaves behind marks. Could he get away with it? Bruce seems interested enough in him that he could get away with it, and he makes a mental list of things he wants to try. ]

Strictly Business (for prettyredbird)

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a misbehaving Bruce you say

Welp

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Sorry this took so long. If it's been too long, feel free to ignore!

happy to continue 💛

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sorry for the delay 💛

No worries! <3

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