Archive of Our Own

It took Tim five minutes longer than he planned on, but eventually he managed to get away from the group of executives being shown around LexCorp and into one of the labs. The scanner on Tim's phone indicates that the device he's looking for must be in this one. 

He looks around, and breathes a deep sigh of relief when his eyes catch upon it. It's a small blue ball, about the size of a golf ball and completely smooth. All of Tim's research says that it's completely safe to touch, so with a delicate move, he manages to get it in his hands. It's strangely warm, but it's a pleasant heat.

Tim turns around and leaves the lab, clutching the orb tightly in his hand. He feels naked without his suit - especially without his utility belt - but he knows that he can get out of the building quickly and to his car where he can put it inside the bags he has laid out for it.

He's almost at the elevator, walking right past the bathroom, when the alarm starts up, alerting Tim that he's been found out much sooner than planned. He swears and ducks inside the bathroom.

It's a nice bathroom, no stalls and meant for just one person. He locks the door behind him even as he hears security guards fill the floor. He knows that they won't care about an occupied bathroom. He's going to be found out.

He looks at the orb in his hand and grimaces. He can't hide it in the building because who knows if he'll be able to get it back, and he can't hide it on his person because he has nowhere to hide it.

But that doesn't mean he can't hide it in his person.

With a prayer that ingesting the orb won't kill him, he brings it to his mouth and pops it in. And then promptly spits it back out because there's no way he can swallow this thing.

He's out of options unless he wants to shove it up his ass.

. . . Fuck, he could. A small thrill goes through Tim's body, but he ignores it. This is strictly for the good of the world. Lex can't have this device. While Tim doesn't know what it's for, this is Lex and he has it and that means something bad.

He walks over to the toilet, closes the seat, and then bends over as he unbuckles his pants. His hands are shaking and that's odd. His hands are almost always steady, no matter how nervous he gets. Tim forces himself not to think about it, and pushing his briefs down to his mid-thighs. Clutching the orb tightly, he moves one hand behind him while the other grips the edge of the toilet so tightly his knuckles turn white.

With a deep breath, he spreads his legs and pushes it in.

Fuck , that hurts.

It's only the thought that he can't get this out of the building otherwise that makes him continue. He goes back to the sink to grab the lotion that is next to the faucet, and coats the orb with as much of it was he possibly can. He breathes through the pain that still appears, though much less this time, and makes quick work of it, making sure it's comfortably settled before he stands up and gets his clothes back on.

And it's weird. He feels the orb inside him, a steady weight, the warmth spreading throughout his ass and groin. He whimpers, because the pain is already starting to fade away and it feels good. He didn't think anything could feel like this.

He takes one shaky step, and then jumps as the orb tries to slip out, Tim clenching his asshole quickly to stop it. Okay, he can do this. He just needs to leave the building with this inside him, and then he can lay down in the back seat of his car and take it out. It'll be maybe ten minutes, and then he doesn't have to think about this or how good it feels again.

Tim unlocks the bathroom and leaves it before turning to the elevator. He feels that everyone is noticing his strange walk, even though he's doing his best to act natural. It's hard though, when the orb is all he can think about. Just get to the elevator, just get to the elevator. From there, he can figure out the next step.

The elevators are blocked off. Tim bites back a curse. He looks around in hopes of seeing another elevator, but of course this appears to be the only one on the floor.

He does see the stairs though, and no one is watching them. Maybe if he can just get down a level, then he can take the elevator down to the parking garage and get out of here. He might jack off once he gets the orb out, because it's beginning to get him hard. Never tell Bruce what he did in the car. Yeah, he can do this.

The stairs are empty, which is a blessing, but Tim already dreads walking down them. He grips the railing tightly, and begins to move.

Apparently, the orb vibrates. As soon as it starts, Tim's hands slip from the railing as he falls forward, falling down the flight of stairs as the orb vibrates. He bites back a scream. There's no need for anyone to come looking for him.

Tim collapses in a pile at the bottom of the thankfully short flight, the most bruising done to his ego and his pride. He makes to stand up, and . . . oh shit. He realizes with a sinking stomach that the orb is no longer resting just inside of his body, but it didn't fall out either.

No, it's deeper inside him, in a place Tim doesn't think he can reach.

Fifteen minutes later, Tim is huddled in the back seat of his car, his back on the seat as he tries with fumbling fingers to get it out. He doesn't have anything to help ease the way into his body so he has to make do with spit that keeps drying. His fingers aren't long enough anyway, and he has no idea how far this thing is inside him other than far.

It's more uncomfortable than pleasurable, especially since the orb still radiating warmth. He feels hot and flushed and like he wants to cry, and eventually he has to admit defeat. Tim is going to have to drive the hour back to Gotham with this orb deep inside, probably just waiting to vibrate again.

It does.

Twice.

Tim is a crying, shaking mess by the time he gets to his apartment. He texts Tam to cancel all appointments for today and tomorrow, as he walks into his apartment almost bent over from the pain of the orb and his cock. He had almost caused an accident today because of this thing, and he just really wants it out of him.

He's going to get it out of him.

He strips off his clothes as he face plants himself into the couch, not caring about getting to his room. He'll sleep once this is out of him, and he can move without hurting.

He reaches back, and shoves two of his fingers inside of him, not caring about the pain that bursts up from his spine as he forces them down to the knuckle.

But he still doesn't feel it, and he squeezes his eyes shut as a whimper comes out. Forces another finger inside him, still scrambling around for the orb, but there's nothing. It's still too far up.

Without his permission, tears come to his eyes.

And then the fucker vibrates again and Tim screams. He desperately pushes his fingers further into himself, scrambling for the orb. His cock is so hard right now. He hasn't come once despite wanting to the whole drive here, and he decides that if he's going to have to deal with this thing, he might as well get something out of it. He reaches for his cock, hands just closing around it when the door slams open and Tim jumps. It jostled everything inside him, and he blinks, wondering who the hell it could be for a moment before the intruder starts to speak.

"Fuck, Tim, I need a drink. What do you have?"

Jason randomly barges into his apartment often. Tim has never minded it, but he would really like some privacy at the moment. The couch faces away from the front door however, so Jason can't see him. Tim can hear Jason stomp through the apartment, and forces his face up to look for him. Jason has his back towards him, in the kitchen grabbing one of the beers that Tim keeps in his fridge for him. He pops it open and comes into the living room, eyes down so he hasn't seen Tim.

"Surprisingly, B doesn't win asshole of the day award. No, that lovely award is granted towards Roy-"

He looks up, and chokes on the drink. Tim can only imagine what he looks like. Naked, three fingers inside himself with a hand on his leaking cock and a flushed face. Tears are slipping out of his eyes from the pain and the pleasure, his hair getting matted to his face thanks to them and falling in front of his eyes.

He must look like a disgusting mess.

And yet, perhaps this is a blessing. Jason is a friend. Maybe Jason can help him? It'll be awkward, and Jason will hold this over his head for the rest of his life, but Tim doesn't care. He just wants the orb out of him now.

He opens his mouth to ask, beg, plead for Jason to help him, but Jason talks first.

"Pretty," he whispers, and Tim frowns because he doesn't see the connection. "I mean, busy! I see you're, uh, busy! Very busy, it looks like! Don't mind me! I'm just going to go and uh, do something else! Away from here! Sorry about this. I'm going to . . . go." Jason is holding his beer awkwardly, right in front of his crotch that he keeps adjusting. He smiles far too widely as he all but runs out of the apartment, and slamming the door tightly behind him.

Tim can hear him groan in the hallway, and despite himself, he feels his eyes burn with more tears. He knows he must look ridiculous and stupid, but did he really look that bad?

Still, Jason gave him an idea. Maybe someone else won't mind helping him. Someone else who wouldn't mind that Tim looks so gross. He takes his hand off his cock, reaches for his pants, and pulls out his phone. Who to call? He flicks through his contacts, but everyone would probably be just like Jason, disgusted. He's about to throw his phone at the ground, when it vibrates again. Tim lets loose a sound that could only be described as a mewl as he humps the couch, and comes with fingers in his ass and no hand on his cock. He accidentally pressed something on his phone, and hears the dial tone start as he rides his orgasm.

He hears another groan from the hallway, and pounding footsteps as Jason runs away again.

The phone continues to ring as Tim collapses into a puddle on the couch, still inside himself when the door pushes itself open. "Drake, what was that strange sound? And why was Todd running away?"

Oh, God, please kill him. What's Damian doing here?

He hears Damian's light footsteps and raises his face again, just as Damian shifts to turn to him.

What must he look like now? Covered in his own come, legs spread for more leverage to the orb. Damian's eyes widened and his mouth drops open. "What do you want?" Tim mutters.

Damian says nothing. He just runs away as well and slams the door even harder than Jason behind him. Distantly, past the closed door, he hears Damian yell, "Todd, I need help reacting to something!"

Tim whimpers and presses his face back into the couch. The phone stops ringing.

“If you’re calling to ask for some Dick, you’re in luck. Leave a message at-”

Tim hits end call so fucking fast. Jason and Damian have already seen him like this, there’s no need for Dick too. Tim will just figure out a way to get this out of him without help from anyone else. He’s brilliant, and he can definitely do it.

He can’t do it. He has tried fingering himself, but he can’t do much of anything. He’s tried, as humiliating as it is, squatting and pushing, but nothing dislodges it. He even tried grabbing a long wooden spoon in the kitchen and seeing if he could use it to knock it out, but he chickened out as soon as he grabbed it, the long wooden handle somehow daunting even after everything else.

It’s almost midnight and he’s had this stupid thing in him for seven hours. He hasn’t even been able to eat anything because he’s been too afraid of the consequences of it. He’s tried to focus on work, but all it takes is one vibration and he’s curled up into himself until it dies down. He feels too hot, so he’s not even wear sweatpants or socks, just pads around the apartment in his XXXL Nightwing T-Shirt, the one that almost touches his knees. Wearing underwear is painful with his constant erection, so that had to go to as well.

Eventually, he does nothing but curl up on the couch and watch Parks and Rec while the vibrations sweep through him at random periods. He lets the tears fall out of his eyes and land on his pillow. He's too tired to sob, but he curls his fingers into his hands so tightly that the skin almost breaks on his palm. He vaguely thinks that he should go to the hospital, but the utter humiliation of having a doctor or a nurse digging around in him is one of the worst thoughts that he’s ever had. Plus, he isn't sure he can move.

It’s one in the morning when his phone rings. With dead eyes, he stares at it. It’s Dick. He doesn’t want to answer it, but Dick won’t stop calling, so with shaking hands, he reaches for the phone.

“Hey, Timmy! You called?”

“Eight hours ago.” He sounds terrible, and Dick picks up on it.

“Yeah, my bad,” he says with a forced laugh. “I was busy on a mission and didn’t get a chance to check my phone until right now. Why were you calling me though? You okay?”

Tim opens his mouth to lie, but the orb chooses this moment to vibrate, and vibrate worse than it ever has before. He isn’t really aware of what happens next, other than the vibrations have long crossed the point of being pleasurable at all. He thinks he’s screaming, but black spots wave in and out of his consciousness and everything sounds distant so he’s not very sure. He curls his legs into his chest, praying that soon it will stop.

When it does, when he no longer feels the buzz crawling through his body and comes back to himself, he hears Dick’s voice in his ear. “Tim! Tim, are you okay? Are you at your apartment? I’m coming right there.” Tim should tell him no, but he’s crying to hard to say anything other than, “Please.”

*

Dick frantically drives to Tim’s apartment, his screaming echoing in his ears. He doesn't know what in the world could make his little brother scream like that, but whatever it is, Dick will destroy it.

He parks in front of the building and takes the stairs two at a time. He doesn't even glance at the elevator, he knows it would be too slow and he needs to move.

He gets to Tim's apartment, the spare keys he has for it already and he lets himself in.

He expects to find Red Robin slumped over and bleeding, but no. Tim's on the couch, wearing an overly large Nightwing shirt (he had no idea they made them that big to be honest), curled up with an arm over his stomach as Parks and Rec plays on the TV. His face is flushed and sweaty, and he looks like the picture of misery.

He must be sick.

Dick walks around the couch and places his hand on Tim's forehead. Tim does nothing but close his red-rimmed eyes. He feels warm, but not feverish.

"Hey, buddy. What's going on?"

Tim licks his dry lips, and then in a cracked voice says, "Promise not to laugh?"

Dick nods as he begins to card his fingers through Tim's hair. "I would never."

Tim nods and scrunches up his face as he begins to speak. "I was at LexCorp to steal a device and they realized it was missing sooner than I expected. I couldn't hide it and I couldn't sneak it out on my clothes in case they patted me down, which they didn't even do." Tim squirms in embarrassment, and he turns his head away from Dick and into the pillow. "So for some reason I thought the best idea would be to stick it in my ass and it got stuck."

He promised he wouldn't laugh, and Dick plans to keep that promise even as he purses his lips together and looks towards the ceiling. "Hmmm-mm."

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who has done this."

"I don't think I can," Dick says, proud to find his voice only warbles slightly. "At least I haven't and no one else has told me."

Objectively, it's not a bad idea in a pinch except that Dick knows most heroes would never even think about it. Dick would never, preferring to take his chances with hiding it in his clothes. Then again, he also hates having things in his ass. Kori had only ever managed to get one finger in before he realized that anal is something he could only pitch, not catch. Hell, he doesn't even like being rimmed.

Kori said she now understood what the curse of the monkey paw was, that a man with such a perfect ass hated to be fucked.

Personally, he thought she was being dramatic.

"How did you even do it? I didn't think you’d be the type to always carry around lube."

Tim squirms again. "I might have just grabbed the lotion next to the sink and covered it, and then breathed through the pain."

That gets his attention, and all humor he can find here is gone. "It hurt? Baby bird, you should have stopped."

Tim takes a deep breath and squirms again. "I liked it though. The . . . pain, I mean. It's the first thing I ever put inside me," and that sends a thrill through Dick that he tries his best not to think about. "It was good, but now it's not. Now it just vibrates and I'm hard and I can't reach it. My fingers aren't long enough, and I don't know what to do." Before Dick can suggest it, "I don't want to go to a hospital." He lifts his face from the pillow and looks at Dick.

He feels the breath knocked out of him. Tim's long hair is plastered to his red face, and his eyes are wide and red-rimmed and so brightly blue from overstimulation. He's trembling and squirming in that Nightwing shirt that is riding up his thighs as he unconsciously humps the couch, and also managing to fall off a shoulder. "Help me, Dick," he whimpers.

Dick tries to pretend it's out of the goodness of his heart when he asks, "Do you want me to get it out?" He tries to pretend he would do this for any friend when Tim bursts into tears and wraps his arms around his neck, pulling Dick close and nodding into his chest. Dick rubs his back, grazing the start of Tim's ass as he imagines what it would be like to dig his fingers in it, to help Tim with his little problem.

Dick's a good liar, but not to himself.

"Okay, baby bird. I'll help you."

He has Tim stand up and walk over to his desk. He grabs the papers on them and throws them in somewhat neat piles on the ground. Tim hobbles over, pillow clutched tightly in his arms, and puts it down before he bends over.

God, he's so fucking gorgeous. And so obedient, which is always Dick's favorite combination even though it's so fucking dangerous.

"Do you," and his voice is too scratchy, too turned on. He's hard, he realizes, but luckily Tim doesn't realize it. He clears his throat. "Do you have any lube here?" That didn't do anything.

Tim shakes his head. "No," he moans. He shifts his hips. "But I have lotion in my bathroom."

Dick is pretty sure he reached speedster speeds by how fast he ran to the bathroom and back with the lotion, and it still felt too slow.

"Okay," he says, to calm both Tim and himself. "I'm going to get behind you, Timmy. You just need to relax. Can you do that?"

Tim gives a jerky nod and squeezes his eyes shut as he clutches the pillow.

Dick isn't sure that him falling to his knees was voluntary. They hit the ground with a dull thud, bringing him level with Tim's perfect ass.

Kori's wrong, Dick's is nothing compared to Tim's. He carefully sets the lotion down next to him, and raises his hands and places them on the back of Tim's knees. Tim jumps at the touch.

Dick wants to pant, but he forces his breath into a strange evenness. He carefully slides his hands up Tim's thighs. He's muscular, but somehow so delicate. It's an intoxicating mix.

He rubs his thumbs in circles as they trail up, feeling the warmth of Tim's skin, the minute trembles. He can feel his pulse beating fast, and Dick closes his eyes.

He didn't think it was possible to be this turned on.

He opens them when his hands hit that fucking beautiful Nightwing shirt. "Thinking of me?" he smiles.

"Comfiest shirt," Tim sighs. "Only thing I could stand to wear. Couldn't even handle underwear like this."

Apparently it's possible to be even more turned on.

Dick slides his hands up further and fuck, Tim was telling the truth.

There's no underwear, just the roundness of Tim's ass. He flips the edge of the shirt up so he can actually look at it.

He slides his hand up even further, so that each one is cupping a cheek. Tim squirms. "Hurry up."

Dick honestly doesn't know what makes him do it, but without thinking, he smacks one of them. "Don't rush me," he growls. He wants to adore the boy in front of him, but only if he's good.

And then his human brain catches up to his monkey one and his heart sinks. Fuck. Tim is going to demand that he leave his apartment right now.

Except he doesn't. He gasps at the surprise smack, but moves back into the feel of Dick's hand that's still on him.

Tim said he liked pain. Dick can give him pain, but not tonight. Some other night, when he can lay him down. 

He imagines all the things he can do. Tie his hands behind his back, blindfold him while he fits a cock ring on him and the biggest dildo possible in him, and spank him until he cries. Shove his cock down his throat and fuck him while he gags. Work his favorite nightstick inside Tim and watch the ecstasy that passes through his face. 

Make him come over and over again for hours until his orgasms are dry and then and only then fuck him. Bite and mark the entirety of his body. Make Tim wear a plug all day that can only be taken out when Dick wants to use his body and fill him with his cum until Tim’s flat stomach distends from how much of Dick is inside him.

Except this is a one time thing, just a brother helping a brother out. Dick should just make sure he doesn’t waste it.

He returns his hand to Tim’s cheek and smooths the reddened skin. It probably stung, but Tim doesn’t say anything, just whimpers as he shifts his weight once again.

Fuck, he would be so good in Dick’s hands. Dick would never gag him, not when he hears those sounds. Those sounds are meant to be heard and delighted in, and Dick wonders how long it would take him, how much he would have to do to Tim before he was incapable of making anything but those sounds.

He slides one of his thumbs up Tim’s crack until it hits his hole, fluttering in anticipation and fear. He presses it slightly, but he can already tell that even with the lube, it would be a fight to put in the fingers. Perhaps another night he can finger Tim dry, but not tonight. He needs Tim to relax, that’s the only way to get this device out of him.

He has just the idea on how to do it. “Do you trust me?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Tim breathes out.

Dick nods, even though Tim can’t see. “Good.”

That’s when he leans forward and licks.

Tim gasps, and it cuts through the apartment. Dick moves hands to grip his hips, to force him to stay in one place. He licks the twitching hole a few times, pressing his face as much as he can into Tim.

Tim’s breathing heavily above him, and the sound is the most erotic thing that Dick has ever heard. On his next lick, he carefully pushes the flat of his tongue onto it, almost breaching Tim’s body. He hears his breath catch, and Dick laughs.

He can’t help it. He has his face buried in the tightest, prettiest ass, and it belongs to his little brother, and Dick can’t feel guilty about any of it. He doesn’t know when he started wanting Tim, but now that he has him, he never wants to let him go.

He moves his tongue around Tim’s hole, reveling in the musky, heavy taste. Tim is whimpering now. Dick can feel how badly he wants to move, but Dick keeps him still on the desk. Right now, Tim is just going to take what Dick wants to give him.

He nips, enjoying the jumps and mewls that erupt from that move. Tim’s hole is relaxed. Enough that Dick could probably get his fingers in, but he doesn’t want to do that, not just yet.

Instead he wiggles his tongue into Tim, enjoying the yelp that comes. He grips Tim’s hips even tighter, knowing that he’s leaving bruises on it, but he doesn’t care. Actually that’s a lie, he does. He cares about the fact that tomorrow, Tim is going to be walking around with marks that Dick made. 

He pulls Tim closer to him, and shoves his tongue into that tight little body as far as it will go. He moves in tight circles around his rim, slowly opening Tim’s hole even wider so that way he can take Dick’s fingers to get this device. He doesn’t feel anything with his tongue, and he wonders just how deep he’s going to have to reach in Tim’s body. Will Tim have to take his whole fist? Can Tim take his whole fist?

He wants to reach down and palm his crotch, stuck in his constricting jeans, but that would mean letting go of Tim’s hips and that seems impossible at the moment. He’s literally drooling as he works his mouth on Tim, in Tim. The saliva running down his chin and Tim’s crack, creating some extra lube for the baby bird. Tim is letting out high, needy sobs that fuel Dick’s need to drive in deeper.

He wonders if Tim has his hands on his cock right now, and he groans at the thought. The vibrations he caused make Tim gasp and shake and he hears a muffled scream, and Dick knows that he just made his baby brother come for the first time that night.

He pulls back, jaw aching and no regrets to be found anywhere. Tim’s hole is wet and clenching, desperate for something to fill it.

Dick lives to please.

He gets up, knees sore as well, and looks at him. Tim is staring at the wall, eyes half-mast and filled with tears, clenching his pillow close. His hands are clean and nowhere near his cock, which means that Dick just made him come from his tongue alone. He’s drooling onto the pillow and squirming slightly, but less energy.

Dick can tell how exhausted Tim is, and as bad as he feels, he knows that’s a good thing since it’ll make him relax more.

He wipes his mouth with one hand and rests the other on the small of Tim’s back for a second before he trails down to press a finger against that needy hole.

“I got you so wet we might not even need the lube, baby bird. But do you want it?”

Tim is staring at the wall, but eventually his eyes flick to Dick and he shakes his head. “Just want you.”

Dick can do that.

“Okay, Tim. Are you ready?”

He nods this time, and with that Dick sinks one of his fingers into Tim.

Tight. Even after all of that, Tim is so tight and before he knows it, he has two fingers inside of Tim. He wants to watch himself in Tim’s body, but he can’t stop himself from staring at Tim’s face. His eyes roll back and he clutches the pillow tighter, biting his lips so hard they turn white as he starts up his noises again.

Fuck, Tim was muffling himself and he was still that loud? What does he sound like when he isn’t stopping himself?

He moves behind Tim and leans down, covering Tim’s entire body with his own. He keeps himself propped up with one hand right next to Tim’s head. He moves his fingers in and out of that clenching hole, down to the knuckle and then almost out. Tim tries to meet his thrusts, but he’s weak from the hours of overstimulation.

He adds a third one, and that brings another whine out of Tim as he shoves his face back into the pillow.

Fuck this. Dick needs to hear him. He snakes his arm underneath Tim’s chest and then hauls him up so he’s pressed right against Dick’s. He keeps his arm pressed around Tim, but brings his hand up to Tim’s jaw and holds it open so that way the broken noises of pleasure can escape him. They’re high and loud and utter perfection. He’s raised up on his tip-toe’s, but Dick is supporting all his weight because every other thrust takes Tim off the ground and he struggles to get his footing each time he’s brought down.

Tim’s hands go towards his arm, but after failing to budge it he switches to holding on, just keeps them there as Dick fingerfucks him.

It occurs to Dick that there’s no way they can pretend that Dick is just helping him. They’re having sex right now. Dick is taking Tim’s virginity, and the thought of that makes him growl. Tim’s head jerks up at the noise, looking up at him as tears begin to fall out of those pretty blue eyes.

Dick just leans down and kisses him. It’s hard, fast, and demanding. Tim is a good kisser, but he’s inexperienced, which means that Dick can just take from Tim, shoving his tongue into his mouth and making Tim taste himself. He swallows Tim’s whimpers and ignores the scratches on his arm, only breaking away when he needs air again.

Tim looks dazed and gorgeous and utterly fuckable, and Dick knows this won’t be the last time. There’s no way he can just have Tim once.

“Dick!” Tim gasps out as he begins to enter in the fourth finger. He remembers the device, and he still doesn’t feel anything inside of Tim, which means he’s going to have to fist Tim.

“Damn, baby bird. How deep is this thing?”

“Don’t know,” Tim sobs. “You’re so much bigger, but you still aren’t close.”

Poor little bird. He really needs Dick to take care of him.

Dick forces himself to remove all his fingers from Tim.

“No,” Tim whines. Dick can tell that he’s clenching around nothing, and he turns to look at Dick with betrayal in his eyes. He can’t let it stay.

He turns Tim around and hauls him into his arms. Automatically, Tim wraps his arms around Dick's neck and his legs around his waist while Dick pushes them into the wall. He wraps one hand around both of Tim's wrists to pin them above his head, and then slides his four fingers back into Tim as his baby bird cries in relief and attempts to push himself down on them.

"You love my fingers, Timmy?" he asks. Tim nods eagerly. "Good, because I love how you look around them. You're so needy, and all I want to do is fill you up."

"Do anything for you," Tim says as he leans back.

"Anything?"

Tim whimpers out, "Yes."

Dick strokes his thumb on Tim's perineum, and enjoys the way that makes him jerk. He rests it on his rim, and he can feel Tim shiver with anticipation as sees his eyes begin to close. "Then tell me five things you love about yourself."

His eyes fly open and his brow furrows in confusion. "Wha-what?"

Dick strokes Tim's rim with his thumb. "Five things, baby bird. Five things and then you get my fist."

Tim bites his lips and closes his eyes, lets his head thump back against the wall. "Why?" he whispers brokenly. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I hate how out of all the people who are worth anything in this world, the only one who doesn't see how incredible you are is you. So tell me five things, and then you'll feel so full you won't be able to imagine how lived your life without me in you."

Tim keeps his eyes closed and his face crumbles, but he gasps out. "I'm smart."

"Good, baby. Keep going."

"I'm clever. And I- and I love my friends."

"Absolutely. You're the best friend a person could ever have."

Tim takes a deep breath, and it breaks Dick's heart how he can only seem to think of three things about himself that he likes. "I try ."

"You do, baby. You try so hard, and you always succeed. Without you, me and B and everyone in this Godforsaken city would be dead without you."

Tim opens his eyes and sobs. He's really crying right now, and Dick wouldn't be surprised if he's just a blurry mess to Tim right now. "I make you happy."

"The happiest. Fuck Tim, how did I live my life before you came into it? You are sunshine and goodness and pure love. I want you so much, and you give yourself to me so wonderfully. And I know how hard this was for you, baby, but trust me, you don't know how much it means to me to hear you talk about the good you do." Tim sniffles and nods. Dick leans his forehead against Tim's and then presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

Moving back, he asks, "Do you want my fist now?" Tim nods, and Dick shifts his knee to support Tim as he slowly moves his thumb in past the rim.

Tim screams, and for a moment Dick is terrified that it's too much, but then he makes out the words. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Tim blubbers, like Dick is giving him a gift by giving him his fist rather than the other way around. It is Dick who should be thankful, that Tim is giving his body, mind, and heart so willingly. He leans down himself and kisses and bites Tim's neck, marking him with his mouth so that everyone will know that it was Dick who was blessed to have all of Tim. "Thank you," he whispers into Tim's skin, and that just makes him cry harder.

He groans when his wrist pops through Tim's rim. Tim's finger curls and he ruts against Dick's shirt, spreading precum as he attempts to take even more of Dick in. He pushes in deeper and deeper, stretching for. . . .

There it is.

He touches the smooth surface. It's about the size of a golf ball, and there's no good traction to get it. Tim whimpers and bucks, eyes fluttering close when Dick stretches his fingers to grab the orb and wrap as much of his hand as he can around it, pulling it down and Tim whines as he does so. It pops out of where it was lodged in Tim, and Dick hurries as fast as he can to remove it. He lets it fall into his hand, and wraps his fingers around it.

He sneaks a peek at Tim. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his legs are trembling and his mouth is set in pain and Dick knows that this isn't pleasurable at the moment, no, it just truly hurts.

He starts to pull at it, but he forgot that Tim said that it vibrates.

But shit, it really does. It intensifies in it's warmth and shakes at an alarming speed and Tim goes wild. Dick immediately lets go of his wrists and Tim falls forward and fumbles to wrap his arms around Dick's neck as he scream-sobs through a violent orgasm. Dick can feel the wet tears staining his shirt along with Tim's come. "H-hurts," he cries.

"I know, baby, I know." He starts to rub Tim's back, tense and shaking. "This will be over in just a minute. You can do it, baby. You can do it."

Dick's glad that the device doesn't prove him wrong. It stops vibrating after a minute, and before it can start again, he removes his fist fully from Tim's body. He misses the clenching heat, but he needs to let Tim rest.

He keeps Tim's arms and legs wrapped around him and carries him to the bedroom, the strange blue orb in his hand the entire way. He gently places his armful of fucked-out Tim on the bed, who curls on his side and searches for another pillow. Dick hands him one to wrap around, and then goes to the bathroom and grabs a towel. He twists it around the orb and sets it on the bathroom sink, making a mental note to thoroughly disinfect it before he gives it to Bruce to examine.

"Dick?" he hears Tim brokenly say from the bedroom. "Dick, where are you?"

"I'm coming, baby." He doesn't care anymore, his Tim needs him. He returns to find Tim desperately watching for him, his face breaking into pure relief when he sees Dick again. He rolls over and reaches for him.

Dick notices that Tim isn't moving anything passed his legs at all. He has a feeling that Tim can't .

He clambers onto the bed and brushes some of his hair out of his face. "What's the matter, Timmy?"

Tim just reaches for his belt and attempts to start unbuckling it, but his fingers are too clumsy and it's way too easy to stop him. "What are you doing?"

Tim whimpers and looks up at him, lips trembling. "I just- I don't- Dick, I feel too empty ."

His heart stops, and his cock, impossibly hard because he miraculously hasn't come yet, throbs. "What?"

Tim nods and lets out a sob. "I don't like it. Please, Dick, I just want to feel full ."

If Dick were a stronger man. . . .

But no such man exists.

He takes off his clothes in record speed, and settles on top of Tim. He can't move his legs at all, so Dick has to situate them on either side of him before he pushes his cock into Tim and they both groan.

He's still tight . Who the fuck gave him permission to be that tight? He's been stuffed so full tonight and he still needs more and he's still so tight.

Fuck, he's perfect.

Dick knows he isn't going to last long, and he knows that Tim isn't going to come. It's animal rutting, while Tim wraps his arms around Dick's neck and Dick wraps his around Tim's back, pressing a hand into the small of Tim's back to tilt him at just the right angle and the other scratching at Tim's back. He bites down on Tim's shoulder, wanting to claim him one last time and with a growl, he comes, deep inside Tim, filling his pretty baby who just clenches around him and scrabbles for his shoulders, burying himself in the crook of his neck.

"Mine," he states when he finishes coming.

"Yours," Tim breathes back.

He rolls over to lay on his back, keeping Tim in his arms and on his cock. He rests his head on Dick’s shoulder, and sighs. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers into Dick’s skin.

Dick turns his face into Tim’s hair and kisses it gently. He doesn’t know if Tim means his body, his bed, or his life, but Dick doesn’t care because the answer is the same for all of them.

“Never.”

Dick wakes up still inside Tim, and Tim still asleep on top of him. Sunlight is streaming through the cracked blinds, and the alarm clock says 10:02. He shifts slightly in bed, drawing a small noise out of Tim that makes him freeze. Tim settles back against his chest, and Dick breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to disturb, not after last night.

Tim can take a pounding, that’s for sure, and Dick’s cock stirs when he imagines what he could really do to the baby bird if he’ll let him.

The kid that he trained.

The one that is eight years younger than Dick, that he’s known since he was twenty-one and Tim thirteen.

Jesus Christ , what the fuck is wrong with him? He just rimmed, fingered, fisted, and then fucked his younger brother who also happened to be a total virgin before Dick got his hands on him. He fell asleep literally inside Tim, and Dick knows that Tim won’t be able to walk this morning. Normally, he loves that. When he and Wally had their fling, the fact that Dick had reduced a speedster to be unable to walk made him damn near burst with pride. It was the same with Babs, Kara, Roy, Kyle, Garth, and the many other non-capes that he slept with.

(Kori and Dick had been a constant competition, always determined to make sure the other couldn’t walk in the morning. Those had been very fun nights.)

Bringing Tim to that point sent a bolt of pride through Dick, one that was followed very quickly by shame.

Dick knows he has to talk to Tim about this. He has to explain that this was wrong, so deliciously, beautifully wrong. That as much as he loved taking Tim apart, because Tim fell apart like no one else he had ever seen and had looked so pretty doing it, this wasn’t something they could really do again.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Tim mumbles into Dick’s chest. “You woke me up.”

“Sorry, Timmy,” Dick whispers, kissing the top of Tim’s hair, enjoying these last few moments before they’ll be ripped away from him.

“No one has to know.” Honestly, Dick sometimes wonders if Tim can read minds. He’s always been so intuitive, so understanding of others and how they think. “And I want to do this again.”

“Tim, I’m not going to keep you my dirty little secret. And we can’t do this again.” Dick sighs into Tim’s hair.

Tim raises himself on Dick’s chest, careful to keep Dick inside him but making sure that he’s above Dick, staring down at him. “Dick, I’m eighteen. I’m a legal adult. And I’m fully and totally capable of making my own decisions when it comes to sex, and if that means I want you to fuck me every night until I’m pretty much living in a bed, then that’s what it means.” He shoves his finger into Dick’s sternum and narrows his eyes. Dick doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more gorgeous in his life. “I know you. I trust you. You didn’t force me into anything, and the moment I would have said stop, you would have. I knew that and that’s why I trusted you. I understand you have your doubts, but afford me the Goddamn respect of treating me like an adult because that’s what I fucking am.”

Tim takes the pointing finger and slides it down with the flat palm of his hand on Dick’s chest, placing it on Dick’s heart as he feels his heartbeat. His shoulders droop slightly and all his strong passion disappears as he says softly. “Now if you really don’t want to be with me, I respect that. But don’t use my age as an excuse. Just be honest .”

Dick brings a hand up to thread his fingers through Tim’s. “Tim, listen to me. I want you so fucking bad. The things I want to do to you? Baby bird, you said you liked the pain? I can make you hurt so fucking good, but I’m scared that you won’t ever say no to me.”

“So I promise to say no to you when I need to,” Tim says, laying back down on Dick’s chest, “if you promise to say yes to me when you need to.”

Dick takes a deep breath and the answer escapes him. “Okay.”

Tim nods. “And I don’t want to tell anyone else. I just . . . I just want to figure this out between you and me before we tell people, okay? I don’t mind being your dirty little secret if you don’t mind being mine.”

Dick laughs. “Okay. I can agree to that.”

“Good,” Tim shuffles, and then says embarrassed. “Though Jason and Damian might be acting a little odd around me.”

“Why?” Dick frowns.

“They . . . might have both come over to my apartment last night. Jason might have seen me with three fingers inside of myself and a hand on my cock. Damian might have come over just after to see me with my fingers still inside and covered in my own come.”

Tim blushes and ducks his head. “I can’t imagine what I must have looked like.”

Dick really wants to laugh. He also really wants to burn with jealousy. “Baby, I can tell you right now that you must have looked like the hottest thing in the world. God, I’m jealous. They saw you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, and that’s something you’re going to have to show me one day.”

“Prefer your fingers,” Tim mutters. “Bigger. More filling.”

Dick looks at him and finally gives into laughing. “Baby, I’m going to turn you into a size queen before this is all said and done.”

Tim frowns. “Size queen?”

“It means you like to be constantly filled and stuffed and taken. That you just want the biggest fingers and the biggest cock and the biggest everything in that sweet little ass of yours.” He moves Tim so he’s forced to sit on his cock. Dick brings his legs back so Tim can lean against him, and he grips Tim’s hips and pulls him up and almost entirely off his cock before slamming Tim down again. He squeaks and falls forward, but Dick just keeps pumping Tim’s hips on his cock. “It means,” he nips and pulls at Tim’s earlobe while he groans, “that you’re my sweet little princess.”

Tim whimpers at the word.

“You like being my princess, baby? You like that I can just take whatever I want from you? You like how good I fill you? Because I love filing you. I never want to stop. Come on, princess, sing for me.” Tim whimpers as he curls up on Dick’s chest, just letting Dick move his hips and slap them back onto Dick’s own. “I want to hear those pretty little sounds.”

Tim obeys. He whimpers and squeaks and whines as Dick just takes until Dick feels a familiar coil of warmth in his gut and then he comes in Tim, stars in his eyes as he fills up his little brother for the second time. Tim follows just a moment behind him, mewling as he rides the orgasm.

He struggles to breathe. “Dick?” he finally gets out.

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Yeah, princess, I did.”

Dick finally has to pull Tim off his cock, as hard as it is. He manages to get him and Tim in the shower. He actually has to carry Tim there because the poor baby bird can’t walk . Dick fucked him to the point of utter dependence, and his heart beats with pride over that.

He settles Tim on his lap in the shower bench as he wipes him down, Tim’s head lolleying to the side so he can rest it against Dick’s shoulders.

“You’re broad,” Tim whispers.

“What?” Dick asks.

“Your shoulders. They’re so broad. And your arms are big. I know everyone talks about your ass, but I don’t understand that when all I could think about was you forcing my legs over your shoulders and fucking me until I couldn’t speak.”

Dick doesn’t want to disappoint Tim, so he files away that scenario for another.

“I love it when you wrap your arms around me, or you lift me up, and I can feel those muscles. I can feel that strength.”

Dick tightens his grip on Tim.

“You’ve got it, Tim. I’m never letting you go.”

Tim hums at that, happy and content. Dick wipes down Tim and himself, getting the sweat and come off of Timmy. He whines when Dick digs his fingers into Tim and crooks his fingers to pull out the come, and Dick doesn’t know if that’s from the overstimulation or if he doesn’t want Dick’s come out of him.

The thought of either is erotic, and something that Dick definitely files away.

When they finish the shower, muscles loose and relaxed, he brushes both of their teeth and gets them both in clothes that he’s found digging through Tim’s closest. Tim gets put in another long shirt, Nightwing blue even with no insignia, and Dick manages to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that fit him, and he ignores the burning jealousy if they belong to Kon or Jason.

Tim’s deposited on the couch while Dick changes over the sheets and gets laundry started along with a bowl of fruit, drifting into a light nap by the time Dick gets back. If it weren’t for the fact that he knows Tim needs to eat, he would just let him lay there, peaceful and still. As it is, he picks him up and takes him back to bed.

“How you feeling, baby bird?” he whispers as he sits down and places Tim between his thighs. He turns on the TV, lowering the volume and starting up 30 Rock . He places a grape between Tim’s lips and Tim obediently swallows. He moves his other hand towards Tim’s thighs, and starts slowly massaging them. He knows they have to be aching.

“Floaty,” Tim whispers. “But nice.”

“That’s good,” Dick says as he kisses the top of Tim’s head, the black hair soft on his lips. “Tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Tim breathes out. He shuffles closer to Dick and tucks his head underneath Dick’s chin. “I had fun last night.”

Dick’s heart skips a beat. “You mean that?” he chokes out.

He feels more than sees Tim’s nod. “Yeah. You made me feel so good, Dick. I’ve never . . . I’ve never felt like that before.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “That’s so good to hear, baby bird. You tell me though if I ever do something you don’t like.”

Tim makes a small sound, and when Dick looks down, there’s a wide, dreamy smile on his face. “We can do this again?”

Dick will never not want to worship and fuck and hurt Tim. His baby bird will fall apart so lovely in his hands, and he’ll be rebuilt by them as well. Tim needs to know that Dick needs him just as much as he wants to.

He leans down with a smile of his own to kiss Tim’s lips. Their teeth clack together and it’s awkward, even after Dick cups his hands on Tim’s face. “Of course. I’m yours, Timmy, as long as you’ll have me.”