Chapter Text
$
At the end of Wednesday’s class, Tim shouldered his backpack and wandered over to Jason, who was chatting with a girl passing out brightly colored pieces of paper.
“Oh, you should come too,” she said cheerfully as Tim approached. “See you there, Jason!”
“Why do people keep inviting you to parties?” Tim asked around a mouthful of granola bar - mmm, lunch - as they left class. “And not me?”
Jason chuckled. “I don’t know, baby bird,” he said. “Maybe it’s because you look perpetually seventeen.”
“I do not,” Tim protested. He glanced down at the Brioni suit he’d put on for the shareholders meeting that morning. “I wear a suit to half my classes, for fuck’s sake.”
“You might have just answered your own question,” Jason told him with mock sweetness. “You want to go to this thing? You don’t get a whole lot of college student time.”
“No,” Tim said. “I don’t get a lot of time in general. I don’t want to spend it at a teenage beerfest.”
“How many ‘teenage beerfests’ have you been to?” Jason countered.
The answer, of course, was none. Tim had been more likely to go to Shakespeare in the park than a rager and when he *had* gone to such an event, it was undercover.
“C’mon. Come to a college frat party with me,” Jason cajoled. “It’ll be fun. You can have your one beer and we’ll go home.”
*Go home*. Now that was something Tim liked the sound of. Jason was staying at the Nest most nights but their schedules rarely matched up to let them just hang out. “It’s Friday night?” he asked in capitulation.
“Yup,” Jason affirmed. “Neither of us has…other plans.”
“I have cases,” Tim said, pitching his voice low on the last word in case anyone was listening, but they were leaving the English hall and Tim was trying to keep up with Jason’s longer legs as he skipped steps down the front of the building.
“Me too,” Jason said. “And I’ll be ready to pick them up on Saturday.”
“Ugh,” Tim said, feeling weak. “Okay fine, I’ll go.”
Jason beamed. “You’re gonna love it.”
$
When Tim had picked out the Nest, its proximity to the Gotham U campus was not even one of his top ten considerations. But, by happy accident, it was only blocks away and Jason insisted they walk.
“I’m only going to have one beer,” Tim said. “If that.”
“You should really work on your tolerance,” Jason recommended. “It’ll help with undercover.”
“I’m not going to be drinking beer undercover,” Tim argued. “I’m just as underage when I’m undercover.”
“You never know,” Jason countered.”This would be a great time to practice. You’ll blend in, you have no Bat obligations until Sunday, and you have me to look after you.”
“You are the worst influence,” Tim told him.
“You need one,” Jason opined. “Bruce and Dick are not going to teach you these vital life skills.”
Tim scoffed but he had to admit that it wasn’t a completely ridiculous concept. He’d already figured out Bruce and Dick weren’t going to contribute to the delinquency of a minor so he’d done some controlled experimentation with Kon, figuring out the taste and mouthfeel of different spirits, wines, and beers, so he could confidently know the difference between bourbon and scotch, a cabernet sauvignon and a pinot noir, or a lager and a pilsner. He’d learned a little bit about his tolerance, which was not great. Jason had him to rights on that, but Tim wasn’t about to admit it.
“We’ll see,” Tim said as Jason showed the invitation to the freshman on duty at the frat house and swept them both inside. The music was 90s and the beer was in kegs. This definitely qualified as a teenage beerfest.
“Jason!” someone immediately shouted, and Tim was somehow both envious that Jason had made friends so quickly and pleased that he was doing so well.
He expected Jason to abandon him at the door but Jason put his hand on Tim’s far shoulder in a gesture that was starting to feel natural and dragged him over to a group sitting around a table. Tim recognized some of them from the English Lit class he was so apparently unprepared for, and wondered if he could slip off and get his one beer to nurse so he wouldn’t feel so awkward.
“Hey,” he greeted Rebecca and Daniel and Greg, and some other familiar faces from class, including the guy who liked Stephen King.
“Hey,” the girl who had invited them to the party replied. “Get some drinks. We're playing first lines.”
“What's that?” Jason asked as Greg got up and scooped two red Solo cups into a punch bowl.
“First lines from any book,” Rebecca explained. “If someone guesses the title right, you drink, if no one guesses everyone drinks but you.”
“Nice!” Jason said, taking the cups from Greg and handing one to Tim. “We're in.”
Tim was *not* in, but Jason squeezed onto the end of the couch next to Stephen King’s Number One Fan and pulled Tim into his lap. That was…unexpected.
Tim wasn't a stranger to sitting on people’s laps, or people sitting on his, or even piling with his teammates on beds, chairs, sofas, or the floor. But this was -
Tim was hyper aware of Jason’s thigh muscles under his narrow ass, hard and not quite comfortable but electrifying. Jason’s arm, wide from the bottom of his ribs to his belly, snugged him into the cup of Jason’s hips. If Jason got hard, just a little bit, Tim would feel it.
Tim tried very sincerely not to squirm.
“Okay,” Daniel said. “I’ll give up an easy one. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged - ‘“
“Pride and Prejudice,” Jason interrupted. “Drink your bug juice.”
Daniel stuck his tongue out at Jason and took a big swig from his cup. “Your turn, then.”
“Hmm.” Tim could feel the vibration of Jason’s throat. “Happy families are alike, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
“War and Peace?” someone guessed.
“Nope, drink,” Jason challenged.
“The Brothers Karamazov?” someone else tried.
“No,” Rebecca said. “It's Anna Karenina.”
“Boom.” Jason shot a finger gun at her and lifted his cup. It brushed Tim’s jaw as Jason brought it to his own mouth. At least if Tim didn't guess any of them, he wouldn't get drunk. Not from the game, anyway. He was starting to think he might like to let a little loose with Jason.
“Okay, my turn,” she said. “‘Mother died today.’”
Jason tensed beneath Tim and Tim tensed to keep from sliding off. There was a beat of silence, almost discomfort before Rebecca said, “Really? It's The Stranger. You can all drink.”
Jason relaxed but Tim was a little mad at Rebecca for picking that line. Clearly she hadn't grown up in a house full of orphans.
Jason jostled his knee, bouncing Tim and shaking a drop of juice onto his hand. “Drink,” he growled and Tim automatically lifted the cup to his mouth. It was vile, a mixture of extremely low quality vodka and some sort of fruit punch that was mostly sugar. It was also kinda great.
“You made me spill,” Tim hissed back and very deliberately licked that drop off the back of his hand. Jason’s eyes flicked down and oh. There he was. Hard against Tim’s hip. A little hard anyway.
“I’ll make you do worse,” Jason replied and Tim wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not.
The game continued, the lines getting more difficult as people started reverting to their personal favorites and Rebecca and Jason ended up the primary players. A few more swallows from his red cup and Tim was definitely getting tipsy. “We should go in a circle,” he said. “It’d be more fair.”
“Yeah, okay,” Greg said, and before he knew it, someone was saying,
“It's your turn,” to Tim and Tim tried not to wince out loud.
“Uh,” he said eloquently, reaching for the only opening line he remembered. “‘Marley was dead, to begin with.’”
“A Christmas Carol,” Rebecca answered immediately and Tim thought he felt Jason’s thumb brush just above his waistband. He upended the Solo cup into his mouth, finishing the vodka fruit punch that was left.
“Need a refill?” Jason asked, taking the cup from his hand. It wasn't exactly a question and Tim bid a less-than-sorrowful farewell to the idea of sticking to one drink that night.
“I got you,” Stephen King Guy said, reaching over and snagging the cup from Jason’s hand. He returned it two-thirds full and Tim resigned himself to drinking bad alcohol and possibly hitting ineffectually in Jason’s direction for half the night.
The circle went around to Jason again who thought for a moment, his hand steady on Tim’s hip and then said, “It was love at first sight.”
There was squealing and a flurry of guesses but in the end, everyone was drinking again and Jason said, “Catch-22,” in a way that tickled Tim's ear. Catch-22. A paradoxical situation with no escape, due to contradictory rules. His stomach dropped.
“I want to get up,” Tim mumbled, too warm and too turned on and altogether overstimulated.
“Okay,” Jason said, leaning back and then said to the group, “We’re going to get some air.”
Within the span of a Pearl Jam song, Jason had them out the back door, in the crisp fall air with the smokers.
“Better?” Jason asked.
“Yeah,” Tim said. “Thanks.” He had his cup with him and took another drink. A wind blew smoke over toward them and ruffled his hair. “You ever miss it?” he asked, tilting his head at the cluster of smokers.
“Smoking?” Jason raked his hair back with one hand and shook his head. “I only ever did it to act tough. There’s a difference between acting and being.”
“You think you’re being tough?”
“I know I’m tough,” Jason said. “I can be tough and know great literature.”
“You're such a nerd,” Tim replied before realized he was going to.
“Really? I’m the nerd?” Jason asked with a sharp grin. “I just found my people, that's all.”
“You found people who play literature drinking games,” Tim accused.
“Ah, but we play drinking games,” Jason pointed out. “What do you play, Ebeneezer Scrooge?”
“You think they have an XBox in this place?” Tim asked.
It turned out they did and Tim played a game of Cheese Viking so perfect, it would make Damian cry. Jason laughed and got him another drink but Tim was too invested in the game to finish it.
A while later, Tim realized he had lost Jason and headed downstairs to find him.
Jason was with his study group around the table with a bottle of whiskey and a stack of Solo cups.
“Whatcha doing?” Tim asked. He sat close to Jason, not on his lap this time, but close enough for their knees to touch.
“Shots!” Rebecca said gleefully and Tim was starting to hate how she always had an answer. And maybe also how her knee was touching Jason’s, too.
“Cmon baby bird, doing shots is a college rite of passage,” Jason coaxed, holding out the cup.
And Tim shouldn’t. Sure, tomorrow was Saturday but he had a metric shit ton of work to get through. He took the cup from Jason anyway.
“Just open your throat and throw it back,” Jason murmured in his ear. “And then you swallow.”
“I know how to swallow,” Tim said tartly and took the shot. The alcohol burned its way down his throat and he gasped as it hit bottom. He squeezed his eyes closed.
“There you go,” Jason said, voice amused. Tim shuddered and Jason ran a warm hand up his spine. “Ready for another?”
Tim choked out a laugh. “You’re going to kill me,” he said ruefully and was very aware of Jason’s hand resting heavy against his back.
“There are worse ways to go,” Jason said lightly and Tim’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Set me up,” he said. He wanted the smile back on Jason’s face, the lightness back in his voice. He could write papers on Sunday.
$
Tim stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. He’d had…some shots. He couldn’t remember how many but he remembers Jason insisting that they walk one of the women at the party home. He also remembers that she threw up on Jason as he escorted her into her dorm, and so he was showering now, while Tim reacquainted himself with the basics of up and down.
“You still alive?” Jason asked, wandering into Tim’s room wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist. He was running another, smaller, towel through his curls and set it on Tim’s nightstand as he leaned over and checked to make sure Tim was awake. And not puking himself.
“You know,” Tim announced, with the courage of someone with an extremely low tolerance, “if we were for-real-married and you walked in here like that, I could just - “ He stretched an arm toward Jason’s hip. His fingertip didn’t quite reach the towel. “Just take this and pull.”
And then he could touch Jason, all that golden skin and he could put his mouth on Jason, and god, Tim had never wanted anything so acutely as he wanted Jason to be his husband right then.
“Newsflash, fucker,” Jason husked, touching the white terry cloth Tim’s fingers stretched for. “You put a ring on it.”
He let the towel drop.
Tim rolled over and stared at Jason’s cock.
It wasn’t hard, maybe a little, maybe twenty percent, Tim decided. But even soft, it was thick, like the rest of Jason, and Tim imagined it curved up, full and flushed, the soft head against the hollow of Jason’s hip - which he did not have to imagine because it was right there, naked in front of him.
“Hey there, baby bird,” Jason said gently, tilting his head until Tim met his eyes. “You like what you see?”
“Can I touch it?” Tim asked, getting his knees under him.
Jason’s mouth opened and his breath choked up in his throat. Tim felt like maybe he had done something wrong.
“I mean, do you want me to touch it?” he fumbled.
“We’re a little drunk, Timmy,” Jason said but his cock was at more like sixty percent and Tim could tell that the answer to his question was *yes*.
“I’ve sucked cock before,” Tim said. “I taught Kon to do it.”
“Whoa, okay,” Jason said, getting on the bed with him. His eyelids fluttered. “I’m a little drunk too.”
He rested his head on the pillow and looked at Tim. “Was he your first time?” he asked. “With a guy?”
“Yeah,” Tim said. “With a guy.”
“What about with a girl?” Jason’s eyes were bright, even as his lashes fell low.
“Steph,” Tim confirmed easily.
Jason’s finger touched his lower lip. “Did you always know you liked guys and girls?”
“Since I was twelve,” Tim said, trying not to dislodge Jason’s finger. He liked the taste and the pressure of it.
“What happened when you were twelve?” Jason rasped. His mouth was inches away and his voice so low, Tim thought he could feel it more than hear it.
“I - I started touching myself,” Tim confessed. “When I was watching - thinking about - looking at pictures I took of - “
“One of your little school friends?” Jason asked, cupping his whole hand around the line of Tim’s jaw, from his chin up to his ear.
“No,” Tim said and he watched Jason steadily - as steadily as he was able - to confirm Jason had put the pieces together.
“Me, baby bird?” Jason’s voice was a whisper in the dark. “Did you think about me when you were learning what you liked?”
“You don’t mind?” Tim asked, hesitant even as he inhaled Jason’s whiskey-scented breath..
“Does this feel like I mind?” Jason asked, tangling his free hand with Tim’s and pulling them both to his cock.
100 percent. It had to be 100 percent now, Tim’s mind calculated frantically, and then Jason kissed him.
Jason’s kiss was devastating - as Tim had expected - but that’s as far as his expectations held out. He had always imagined Jason would kiss like he fought - cocky, aggressive, and dirty. Instead Jason’s kiss was gentle, sweet, a little uncertain - but heartfelt. It was…disarming.
They lay side-by-side on the bed, kissing softly. Tim’s hand sliding up and down Jason’s cock slowly.
“Can I?” Jason asked, his mouth moving against Tim’s jaw. “Can I touch you too? Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes. Yeah. I want -“ Tim broke off because Jason was kissing him again, and also Jason’s fingers were looped around his cock and were jerking him with a light, quick stroke.
The tactile sensation thrilled up Tim’s spine. He hadn’t had someone else’s hand on him in what felt like an awfully long time and it was *Jason*, Jason, whose lean, strong calves gave way to muscled thighs, and whose hands Tim had dreamed about on his skin for years.
He started jacking Jason faster, hastened by his own arousal.
“Jay, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, circling his thumb around Jason’s frenulum as naturally as he did his own.
“That’s the point of the game, baby bird,” Jason said and pre-cum spilled from the head of his cock over Tim’s hand. “Come all over my hand so I can lick it off.”
Tim did, almost immediately, ducking his head and pressing his forehead to Jason’s chest.
“Hey, hey, you're okay, it's all good,” Jason murmured, breath hot and humid against the back of Tim’s neck.
“Oh my god, Jason,” Tim said, the room spinning even as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Yeah, lie down, you're okay. You’re better than okay.” Jason shifted, one hand on the back of Tim’s head as he eased Tim back on the pillow. “You're so pretty when you come. So good.”
Tim cracked his eyes open because he'd never imagined Jason would be so soft and sweet in the dark. He still had Jason’s cock in his hand and he swept his thumb over the head, because he needed Jason to feel half as good as he did. Jason’s eyes were shadowed as he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked a wide swath across his palm.
Tim’s cock twitched, too soon. “Let me,” he said and pushed Jason’s hip, pushing him flat on his back.
“You don't have to,” Jason said but his voice was strained.
Tim centered himself across Jason’s hips and leaned in until he could take the head of Jason’s thick, hard cock between his lips.
“Fuck, fuck, Tim.” Jason sighed, shifting his hips against the bed like maybe he was trying not to thrust down Tim’s throat.
Tim relaxed the muscles of his throat and took Jason as deep as he could, quietly loving the soft groan that vacated Jason’s chest. He’d taught himself to do this, because he'd wanted Kon to love it, to love being with him, to never leave. It didn't quite turn out how he'd imagined it.
But it had led to this and this was amazing. And Tim didn't know how this would turn out but right now, with his brain fizzing with evaporating whiskey and the taste of Jason filling his mouth, he could hope.
“Tim,” Jason was saying. “Tim. Baby, I’m going to - Tim, pull off, I’m gonna - “
“I said I know how to swallow,” Tim said incoherently and Jason choked out a glorious groan as he came down Tim’s throat.
“Oh, yeah,” he ground out low in Tim’s ear. “Oh Timmy. That was so fucking good.”
“Yeah,” Tim agreed muzzily as he pulled off and fell back against his pillow. “So good.”
Jason said something else, but Tim was asleep before he finished.