That moment to breathe is appreciated. A kindness that Tim doesn't think he deserves but is unbearably thankful for. Especially when Bruce finally pulls back, only to push in again. Tim's knees wobble beneath him, used to staying braced for pressure but not for this. He bows his head again, shoulder blades knotting up, the muscles Bruce helped to shape moving under his skin.

He starts to jerk himself off, slow and jerky motions as his toes curl from the pleasure. It's a dream, really, to be the one that Bruce craves to this degree. To be the best soldier for the mission. To be the first choice, even if a scared voice in the back of his head wonders if Dick or Jason might say otherwise.

""S'good---so good, Bruce, so--fucking good."