aravistarkheena: (Comics: Boy Wonder)
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Title: Left Behind
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd (shut up)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: smuttyness and Jay being a grump
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone is legal
Word Count: 1,600
Author's Notes: I wrote this to torment [profile] shiny_glor_chan whilst she wrote a paper. Also for [community profile] comment_fic.



Left Behind

Drake had left him earlier that night with a caustic wave and the flick of a long yellow cape. It was Friday night, after all.

Titans Time.

Jason fought down the bitterness in his chest as he slid off his bike and made his way into the large empty Cave. Alfred was already asleep and Dick hadn’t been in town for almost two weeks. Jason’s foot steps echoed loudly in the empty Cave as he stalked towards the large bank of computers.

He pulled off his jacket and vest as he flicked the screen on, checking for messages from the other capes who operated in Gotham City proper. The screen was depressingly blank and he snorted in annoyance and turned away from it before toeing off his boots. He left them there by the computer as he stalked towards the showers, his mood worsening with each step.

His damp t-shirt clung to his back and chest, chilling him as the damp air of the Cave chilled the sweat on his skin and the fabric. He shivered as he slipped into the locker room, trying hard not to look towards Tim’s locker.

He had purposely left it opened before they left for that evening’s patrol. Tim always left his locker partially opened. Tim said the locker started to smell if everything was left all bundled up in an enclosed space. He had cited Jason’s locker as an example of this. Jason had just snorted and called Tim a girl but now that he was almost he cautiously opened his locker and surreptitiously sniffed.

It smelled like leather, sweat and Kevlar. All smells that Jason had come to appreciate over the years. He didn’t know what Tim was talking about.

He glanced over at Tim’s locker. Tim had put in small shelves and everything inside was neat and orderly. His shoes were primly arranged on one shelf with the socks hanging out from the openings. The shelf above that held deodorant, shampoo and a bar of soap.

Jason walked cautiously over to Tim’s end of the locker room. They usually kept their distance from one another while in here. They had lockers on separate sides of the room and made sure never to be in the showers at the same time. It felt strange to cross the invisible barrier they had erected and Jason felt unaccountably nervous as he made his way over to Tim’s locker.

When he got there Jason pushed the door open a little more, revealing a small snap shot of Tim and a few members of the Titans taped to the locker door. Jason glared at it before sticking his head inside Tim’s locker and taking a deep breath.

It smelled clean.

Like soap and the dryer sheets Alfred used on their clothes. There were other things too, a faint whiff of dark room chemicals and the very familiar scent of Kevlar body armor.

Jason rarely got close enough to Tim to smell him. The few times he had Jason had been more preoccupied with getting his fist to meet Tim’s nose than how, exactly, Tim smelled.

Now he knew.

The realization hit him and Jason felt a shudder rake through his body, at the notion.

It seemed intimate, somehow. Far for intimate than Jason was accustomed to being with Tim.

He stepped angrily away from Tim’s locker and pulled his sticky shirt roughly over his head. He tossed it to the floor, his jeans, under armor and boxers quickly followed suit. He had to slow his pace as he walked into the large shower room so he didn’t slip on the perpetually slick tile floor.

Jason made it over to the nearest faucet and flicked it on roughly as hot as it would go. He clenched his teeth and made an angry sound at the back of his throat as a cascade of cold water came down over his head and shoulders.

The bleak emptiness of the Cave seemed to echo on the tiled walls of the shower room as the cold water warmed and rinsed the salty sweat from Jason’s skin. A wave of loneliness and resentment inundated him but he pushed it aside. Willing down the furious tension that roiled in his gut, Jason reached for his wash cloth and bar of soap.

It wasn’t that Jason was jealous of the Titans or anything. It was just that, after Bruce had died, he and Tim had agreed to work together. It was clear taking care of Gotham City wasn’t something either of them could have done alone.

Jason lifted the wash cloth to dampen it in the now warm water. He wrapped it around the bar of soap and started to scrub. He was still in such a temper that he didn’t even bother to be careful around his bruises and scars. The rough cloth scrubbed over them with painful disregard and Jason clenched his teeth.

He was almost as angry with himself as he was with Tim. It wasn’t like he cared about Tim. It was just that they had called a truce. They rarely fought anymore and while they still insulted each other the insults had lost the edge of malice and resentment that had marked them before. Jason had thought he was done being pointlessly furious with Tim.

Clearly he was wrong.

He let out a frustrated sigh as he practically threw his soap and wash cloth back on the shelf built into the shower wall.

His blood was up and his tension was high and there was no way Jason was going to get any rest or peace at all tonight unless…

Jason took a deep breath and tried to relax. Deep breathing and meditation had never really worked for him no matter how many times Bruce had tried to push it on him. A quick jerk off session, on the other hand, always did the trick.

Jason tried hard to put all thoughts of Tim from his mind as he slid his hand down his still soapy belly and gripped his cock. It was partially hard from the hot water of the shower and that night’s exercise. It barely took three strokes before he was fully hard.

He rocked back on his heels and let the hot water spray down on him, slicking his hand as he worked it over his erection. His breathing caught and a coil of arousal pooled in his stomach as he moved his hand wetly over himself.

Images flashed across his mind: a lithe dark body bending and twisting as Batgirl reached for a grapple line, beautiful breasts encased in slick purple bounced as Spoiler jumped up to catch at a low hanging fire escape, a dark clad ass lifted in the air as Donna bent over to pick something off the ground, a mouth wide and wet smirked at him as Tim launched himself into a group of thugs. Jason fought down a groan and angrily tightened his fist around his twitching cock.

He couldn’t even jerk off without that little bastard ruining his mood.

Jason was determined not to let that stop him. His moved his hand fast and hard over his dick but all he could see in his mind’s eye were images of Tim.

Long slender legs in light blue gym shorts danced across Jason’s mind. The arch of Tim’s ribs and the jut of his hips as Tim practiced, barely clothed, on the gym equipment. Pale skin flushed red as Tim breathed hard after a fight, blue eyes glinted with mischief and danger.

And that mouth. That smirking mouth. The mouth that insulted Jason, that belittled him, the mouth that gave him that sharp, pitying little smirk every time Tim went off with his friends. That mouth that begged to gagged, that begged to be muzzled, that begged to be fucked--

Jason came hard with a startled groan, his come slicked his hand as it slid over the over sensitive head of his twitching erection. Jason shuddered with the force of it, his breath caught in his throat and his muscles tensed as he arched and shouted and came.

The water had cooled considerably by the time Jason had come back to himself enough to have the sense to rinse off. Come and soap bubbles slid down the drain as Jason flicked off the taps and made his way, rubber legged and cautious, back out to the locker room.

What did it matter if Tim wasn’t here anyway? Jason had been on his own long enough. A few nights in the empty manor were nothing.

He reached into his locker and pulled out his towel and he was hit with the smell of mildew and old gym socks. Jason grimaced and glared down at the towel for a minute before a slow smile spread across his face.

He walked across the locker room to Tim’s locker. He pulled Tim’s clean, soap scented towel from it’s depths before tossing his own inside on top of Tim’s sneakers.

Then Jason shut the locker door.

He smiled to himself as he walked out of the locker room, scrubbing at his wet hair with Tim’s clean towel.

It served Tim right, after all, for leaving Jason behind to take care of things here.



A/N: Forgive any typos, it's three am.

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