Caught (Jason/Tim, R, DCU) and Bond (Dick, Jason, PG, DCU)
Title: Caught
Characters/Pairings: Jason/Tim
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own. All DC's.
Notes: 032. Hold for my fanfic50 table.
Tim groans, his voice feeling like burning gravel in his throat, and Jason bites hard against his neck.
He snaps his teeth as he pulls away, eyes boring into Tim's and *grinning* like just like he has nothing to lose. His head falls back against the bed softly, and Jason's palms dig into his wrists as he sits up, admiring him in one long, seductive, *knowing* glance.
"This --" his voice struggles "-- isn't the most sanity conductive. Activity."
Jason sucks a red blush onto his chest, and drags his teeth teasingly over Tim's nipple. He bites his tongue, hard, and doesn't whimper.
"*Bats* is giving you days off, Timmy," he *hates* that name, "It isn't your fucking *sanity* he cares about."
He knows how much evidence there is against this being a bad idea. Jason squeezes one wrist tight and twists it above Tim's head before crushing their lips together.
Tim moans into Jason's mouth, leg curling and catching his thigh. Jason is smirking.
He keeps *finding* him, and after the first time Tim stopped hiding, because Jason is rough, and hard, and *wrong* and he pushes until he hurts and tears are leaking out of his eyes. Because he *needs* this, and Jason is the only one that will give it to him.
Title: Bond
Characters/Pairings: Dick, Jason
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
Notes: 014. Bury for my fanfic50 table.
"Does Bruce know you're here?"
It's the first thing out of his mouth, and in retrospect, the stupidest thing he could have said to make Jason feel like doing anything like respecting him.
As it is he smirks lazily and answers, "Why would I tell him?"
He rolls his eyes.
"That's a yes. Even if you *didn't* tell him."
Jason throws his backpack, which most *definitely* contains some version of *Dick's* suit into a corner, and folds his arms.
"Let's try again: *why* are you here?" He wants to think it's less stupid, but it's really just a different kind of stupidity.
He shrugs. "Why *not*?"
It isn't as hard as it should be to relax and then *relax* at Jason's smirk and crossed arms invading his house, his *city*, and he asks, "Pizza or Chinese?"
Characters/Pairings: Jason/Tim
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own. All DC's.
Notes: 032. Hold for my fanfic50 table.
Tim groans, his voice feeling like burning gravel in his throat, and Jason bites hard against his neck.
He snaps his teeth as he pulls away, eyes boring into Tim's and *grinning* like just like he has nothing to lose. His head falls back against the bed softly, and Jason's palms dig into his wrists as he sits up, admiring him in one long, seductive, *knowing* glance.
"This --" his voice struggles "-- isn't the most sanity conductive. Activity."
Jason sucks a red blush onto his chest, and drags his teeth teasingly over Tim's nipple. He bites his tongue, hard, and doesn't whimper.
"*Bats* is giving you days off, Timmy," he *hates* that name, "It isn't your fucking *sanity* he cares about."
He knows how much evidence there is against this being a bad idea. Jason squeezes one wrist tight and twists it above Tim's head before crushing their lips together.
Tim moans into Jason's mouth, leg curling and catching his thigh. Jason is smirking.
He keeps *finding* him, and after the first time Tim stopped hiding, because Jason is rough, and hard, and *wrong* and he pushes until he hurts and tears are leaking out of his eyes. Because he *needs* this, and Jason is the only one that will give it to him.
Title: Bond
Characters/Pairings: Dick, Jason
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
Notes: 014. Bury for my fanfic50 table.
"Does Bruce know you're here?"
It's the first thing out of his mouth, and in retrospect, the stupidest thing he could have said to make Jason feel like doing anything like respecting him.
As it is he smirks lazily and answers, "Why would I tell him?"
He rolls his eyes.
"That's a yes. Even if you *didn't* tell him."
Jason throws his backpack, which most *definitely* contains some version of *Dick's* suit into a corner, and folds his arms.
"Let's try again: *why* are you here?" He wants to think it's less stupid, but it's really just a different kind of stupidity.
He shrugs. "Why *not*?"
It isn't as hard as it should be to relax and then *relax* at Jason's smirk and crossed arms invading his house, his *city*, and he asks, "Pizza or Chinese?"