#i don't rlly feel qualified tho lmao

[ladytauria]

i read this fic (you want more and you want it fast - runespoor) some time ago and, uh

it would not leave my head <3

eventually i had to write down all the thoughts it gave me & then i cleaned those up into something resembling a not-fic. & then it was just a matter of, ah. convincing myself to share~

anyway!

warnings: unrequited bru/jay

edits: fixed some formatting issues, removed some brackets, and a sentence i had meant to fix before posting, lol

a hunger that grows, and grows

Jason’s feelings for Bruce are… complicated, to say the least. Mentor. Oldest/longest crush. Betrayal. Anger. Grief. Nothing easy or simple to deal with, and so Jason just… doesn’t. He does his own thing up until Bruce gets involved, has knockdown drag-out fights with him that leave him more frustrated than anything, and then usually heads to a bar, working his frustrations out with tall, dark haired, light eyed men before getting up the next day to start the cycle all over again.

It works. Or he does a good enough job pretending it does, anyway.

And then Bruce dies. (“Dies.”)

His usual methods of coping don’t work. He needs something more to scratch the itch; fill up the strange hollowness inside of him. And somehow… he ends up settling on Tim.

Half the reason the pretender is so fucking annoying is all the ways he reminds Jason of Bruce—both the parts he finds attractive and those he finds aggravating. (There’s a lot of overlap between the two, but Jason doesn’t like to think about that.)

So he tracks down Tim.

Jason’s feelings for Bruce are… complicated, to say the least. Mentor. Oldest/longest crush. Betrayal. Anger. Grief. Nothing easy or simple to deal with, and so Jason just… doesn’t. He does his own thing up until Bruce gets involved, has knockdown drag-out fights with him that leave him more frustrated than anything, and then usually heads to a bar, working his frustrations out with tall, dark haired, light eyed men before getting up the next day to start the cycle all over again.

It works. Or he does a good enough job pretending it does, anyway.

And then Bruce dies. (“Dies.”)

His usual methods of coping don’t work. He needs something more to scratch the itch; fill up the strange hollowness inside of him. And somehow… he ends up settling on Tim.

Half the reason the pretender is so fucking annoying is all the ways he reminds Jason of Bruce—both the parts he finds attractive and those he finds aggravating. (There’s a lot of overlap between the two, but Jason doesn’t like to think about that.)

So he tracks down Tim.

It actually takes a hot second—Tim is right on the edge of dropping off radar, which should probably concern Jason a little. But—honestly, whatever Tim is up to is someone else’s problem. He’s booked a ticket overseas, set to leave sometime around when patrol would usually end. Which means Jason has to move quick.

He’s not about to go asking for something for nothing, and since he’s looking to use Tim as a stand-in for Bruce, it only seems fair to offer him a similar opportunity. So. When he comes knocking at Tim’s door, he does it dressed as Nightwing. [Personally picturing the discowing suit bc of the deep vee, but, go with your heart.]

Tim lets him in; the annoyance on his face and in his voice bleeding very quickly into confusion as he processes what Jason is wearing.

Jason’s brand of flirting is a little taunting, a little aggressive, and utterly unsubtle. Tim—short circuits. It’s not necessarily that he isn’t used to being flirted with, or that he doesn’t know how to flirt back. It’s just… This is Jason. He’s had a crush on him since he was still Robin, and… Maybe all the violence and bitterness between them should have changed that, but it didn’t. If anything, it only made him burn hotter. So having all of that directed at him, especially right now? It’s a lot.

But Tim’s made a career out of thinking on his feet, and it’s not long before he reboots. It takes even less time for him to break the situation down.

He knows about Jason’s thing for Bruce. Knows Bruce didn’t reciprocate, or even really notice. Knows about Jason’s habits of seeking out Bruce lookalikes to fuck, especially after a big fight. And—well. Jason’s made enough derogatory remarks about Tim’s similarities to Bruce over the years. It’s not hard to figure out that this time, Tim is the one being used as proxy.

It hurts.

A lot.

But Tim also recognizes an opportunity when he sees one. If this is the only way he can have him… so be it. “I’ve got a plane to catch in the morning,” he warns, even as he slips into his best imitation of Bruce.

“Still got all night,” Jason says, flippant tone belied by the hunger in his eyes.

It’s a night they make very good use of.

Jason doesn’t even stir when Tim slips out before dawn—figuring, this is it. He got his on night, and now it’ll never happen again. He doesn’t end up having to try hard not to think on it; too busy just trying to keep his head above water.

Jason wakes alone and satisfied. And maybe… a little bereft, somewhere deep, deep down and unacknowledged. He lets himself bask for a bit, and then it’s back to business as usual.

The itch builds back up again. Normally, if his path hadn’t crossed with Bruce’s naturally, this is when he’d go looking for reasons to pick a fight. He thinks, idly, about reaching out to Tim again. Maybe even looks him up, just to see what he’s doing, only to learn he’s nowhere to be found. Jason tells himself that’s not concerning at all, and anyway, he wouldn’t want to make a habit of fucking the pretender. Tim’s too crafty for that.

Things go back to something resembling normal.

Of course, then Tim does finally show back up again, and brings with him a shitload of chaos…

…and, eventually, Bruce.

It’s— Jason doesn’t know how to feel about it. Things are—different. Bruce has a new Robin. Tim’s struck out on his own, claiming his own territory in Gotham. Jason doesn’t need to show up for family dinners to see the tension there. Even Jason’s relationship with him is different. They circle each other, almost awkwardly. There’s this… almost-want of a reconciliation; a tentative truce building between them.

Until it blows up in their faces, of course.

Jason leaves the fight angry and frustrated and seething—but also hot under the collar. Before, he would just find a bar and look for someone who could almost, in the right lighting (or lack of), pass for Bruce—or who looked like they could fuck Jason hard enough he wouldn’t care.

But…

Well. It hadn’t been enough when Bruce had first “died,” and ever since his night with Tim… He’s not sure it ever will be again. So he finds himself on Tim’s doorstep again—possibly in the same outfit? Or maybe a different era costume? Or something totally different. He figures, well. Last time Tim had him out of the suit pretty quick, so he must’ve been into it.

Tim’s surprised—but again, doesn’t turn Jason down. He does tell him to ditch the costume next time. Nightwing doesn’t do it for him.

Again, Jason leaves satisfied.

After that, it keeps happening. Jason abandons the costume idea entirely; just shows up at Tim’s door in or climbs through his window. Sometimes he brings food, usually he doesn’t. They fuck. Sometimes they even stay together until its time to get up, becoming—almost friendly, in those small windows of time.

The time between visits starts to decrease, until Jason isn’t really seeking him out because Bruce pissed him off anymore. Tim is still putting on a Bruce-esque persona, though. He’s also never the one to initiate, which Jason notes idly but isn’t concerned about… yet.

And then one day, when Jason seeks him out, Tim is… tired. He’s fighting with Bruce. He’s still got the primary role in the company. He’s pretending to be injured. He’s not on good terms with Dick (though they’re mending). Damian hasn’t tried to kill him in a few weeks but there’s still animosity. Things with Steph are… weird. Strained. Awkward. He’s glad she’s back. He’s angry at her for lying. She’s pissed he’s not talking about his disappearance, and the thing with Pru, and. You know. Everything. The Titans are back but he’s not leaning on them like he used to. He’s still managing everything that happened with the League, the missing spleen, and now Boomerang… 

He’s tired.

He wants.

His persona cracks, and a little more Tim shines through. Jason… likes it. He doesn’t know what’s different; he’s really only encountered fake-Bruce Tim and Red Robin Tim. Everything else has been glancing. Brief.

But by the next time they meet, Tim’s rebuilt his defenses, and… it’s the same as before. Except now, the formerly mind-blowing sex is— Still good, but. There’s something lacking, a missing mysterious thing that Jason has no idea how to ask for. It’s… frustrating. The itch comes back, more fierce than before.

He ends up talking to someone—probably Dick, but maybe Steph, or Babs. He doesn’t mean to turn the subject to Tim, isn’t even intending to ask about him, but. The others have noticed Tim & Jason’s new… closeness, if not the reason for it. Whoever it is he talks to happens to mention that Tim used to really look up to him—idolize him, even. Probably in the context of a warning, but not necessarily.

A few things click into place. He keeps his distance from Tim for a bit; turning thing over in his head. Certain misinterpretations are cleared up, but… Jason also has new questions. Questions he doesn’t intend to just ask outright—he knows Tim wouldn’t answer him. Or, if he did, it wouldn’t be true.

So he decides to do something a little—reckless. Or, maybe not reckless, so much as embarrassing. Painstakingly, he assembles an accurate (well, mostly) Robin costume. The same one he wore, during his tenure. He barely manages to swallow his embarrassment enough to assemble it, let alone put it on, and covers quickly with a long coat.

The trip to the Nest is agony. He finds himself flushing every time he’s reminded of it. And when he gets there— He hasn’t knocked on the door in ages, but this time… He can’t do anything but, and waits anxiously for Tim to show up.

Tim lets him in, eyeing the coat with strong suspicion.

When the door is shut, Tim takes in his appearance with an impressively neutral expression, considering Jason is sure he looks ridiculous, wearing a long overcoat despite the mild weather and his face, ears, and neck blotchy with embarrassment. “I thought we agreed no more costumes,” Tim says, finally. Jason swallows hard. His face grows hotter. He resists the urge to tug at his collar; instead undoing the buttons of his coat with trembling fingers. “I— We did. But…” He takes a breath. He’s too off-kilter to make his words sound seductive, but he continues anyway—“I think you’ll make an exception for this one.” And then, before he can lose his nerve, he shrugs out of the overcoat. The Robin costume—sans cape, and pixie boots. And gloves. But he was wearing the red tunic, and the scaly green panties. And they are panties, unlike the original. But he’d thought a two piece might be more… practical. It’s the closest thing he’s worn to the original suit in… years. Since the Tower, and that had been far less faithful. He feels… ridiculous. Overgrown. Out of place. But… There’s still a little bit of magic, too. He keeps his eyes on Tim despite his nerves. Watches the almost imperceptible way his eyes widen. The way his hands still. The way all of him stills so completely Jason worries, for a moment, that he isn’t even breathing. It stretches long enough Jason feels himself starting still; ice creeping through his veins. This was a bad idea. He fucked up. At best—Tim laughs at him. At worst… At worst he’s dismissed, derided, humiliated, and never to make things right, or see if they can’t, maybe, be something more. Then there’s a short, sharp intake of breath—and Tim moves, so suddenly Jason might wonder about latent speedster genes, if he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Tim kisses him feverishly, licking into Jason’s mouth like he’s starved. One hand tangles in his curls; the other wanders. Over his chest, teasing his nipples through the tunic before tracing the Robin emblem. (Jason isn’t going to examine the way that makes him shiver.) Then down over his rib cage, his stomach. Teasing the hem of the panties before palming him through them. Squeezing, as Jason gasps into his mouth; rocking his hips forward. Tim smiles, smug and satisfied. “Feel good, does it, Robin?” The name— the tone— His moan is torn from his chest, so hard it’s almost painful. He whimpers, after, the heat spreading down his chest. His whole body prickles, skin tight and sensitive. Fuck.

They don’t even make it to the bedroom. Tim, well. He tries, but god, he cannot keep the Bruce-persona going, and Jason watches the mask fall in real time. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

Later, when they’ve both finished at least once, they lay next to each other, and Tim asks quietly, “What gave me away?” The question is so mild, so innocuous. He could be talking about his thing for the Robin costume, or any number of things. But Jason knows. So he tells him, “Nothing I would have noticed for a long time.” Because it’s true. He prides himself on being observant, but.. he wasn’t looking for it. Didn’t know to, and never would have expected it, from Tim of all people. He feels… guilty. “Dick brought up some stuff, though, and… Well. All the things I’d missed were… obvious.”

Then Jason admits that he’s enjoyed the times they’ve gotten to hang out, and the longer this has been going on, the more he’s been disappointed when they don’t get to. And… the times that Tim has been more himself, less Bruce… they’ve always been his favorite.

He doesn’t want to jump into something before he’s ready, rush it, and end up hurting Tim when it doesn’t work out but— He thinks, if they go slow, that they could have something. If Tim is willing to give him that chance, to know him.

And, well. What does Tim have to lose? His heart is already on the line. So he says yes.

(It happens, bit by bit, so slowly he doesn’t even notice, until, one day, Jason looks at Tim and— He can’t. He can’t picture anyone else at his side, can’t imagine wanting anyone else. He’s happy, here, with Tim, and so, utterly in love.)

-> AO3 <-

[sylphwing]

hm. i do not like chilshi 🤔