#006 - So much more than skin deep (DCU (main continuity))
Title: So much more than skin deep
Fandom: DCU (main continuity)
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jason Todd/Tim Drake
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 500
Warnings: mentions of knife play/scarification
Challenge: #006 - sharp
A/n: Hi, first time contributor. I hope I got the headers and tags right. Do let me know if that isn't the case. <3
Checking your weapons regularly-daily if possible-and making sure they are in perfect shape is something that’s been drilled into Jason for years. By Bruce, by Talia and the League of Assassins, by the various weapons masters he’s trained under since. Jason dismantles and oils his guns, goes over smoke pellets and grenades, sharpens and polishes his knives to gleaming perfection. It’s a ritual by now; he uses the time to go over the events of the night, sort them, take note of his errors and how to right them; to make strategies for the next night. It gives him peace of mind. It helps him go to sleep.
Tonight’s different though, tonight every weapon but one stay in their proper place on the wall. He hasn’t used them and he won’t, either. Not tonight.
Tonight the only weapon he checks is a knife; his favorite one. The handle is molded after his grip; the balance perfect. He'd forged the blade himself. It’s beautiful-slender, sharp, deadly-and tonight he will use it on someone who's asked for it. Nicely, even, but with a waver in their voice; a rawness hidden beneath that had cut deeper into Jason than any knife ever could.
Jason, I-I want something from you. On me. Something that’s yours, that will-that will stay yours. Something that lasts.
I... I want you to scar me.
Where? Jason had asked, his mouth dry, his heart lodged in his throat. What?
At that Tim had only smiled, weakly; more of a twitch of the corner of his mouth than anything.
I’ll leave that up to you.
And so Jason sharpens his blade, with meticulous care; and instead of oiling it, he disinfects it.
A few feet away Tim lies on his belly, shirtless, on Jason’s bed. There’s a slight tremor in his shoulders, but his face, turned to Jason, shows calmness with the hint of a smile, only visible in his eyes.
Jason returns it, a glint of teeth added.
He puts the disinfectant wipe to the side, turns the knife in his hand, tearing his eyes away from Tim to study it, make sure, although he already knows it has never been sharper, or cleaner. In his chest there’s a jumble of emotions. Roaring. Swirling. He’s nervous, he’s excited, he’s aroused and scared and hungry and happy. Atop it all is an almost tender possessiveness, and an acceptance of what is to come.
Before the night is over Tim will have bled for him, parted his flesh for him, and accepted Jason inside him in a way he never has before. And after that things will have changed forever. Because Jason will never leave Tim’s body again.
Jason moves to the bed, sinks down on it in a straddle atop Tim’s thighs. He leans down and kisses Tim’s shoulder gently, the exact spot where he’ll cut him, although Tim doesn’t know that yet.
“Ready?” he says.
And after Tim’s nod in reply he begins.
Fandom: DCU (main continuity)
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jason Todd/Tim Drake
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 500
Warnings: mentions of knife play/scarification
Challenge: #006 - sharp
A/n: Hi, first time contributor. I hope I got the headers and tags right. Do let me know if that isn't the case. <3
Checking your weapons regularly-daily if possible-and making sure they are in perfect shape is something that’s been drilled into Jason for years. By Bruce, by Talia and the League of Assassins, by the various weapons masters he’s trained under since. Jason dismantles and oils his guns, goes over smoke pellets and grenades, sharpens and polishes his knives to gleaming perfection. It’s a ritual by now; he uses the time to go over the events of the night, sort them, take note of his errors and how to right them; to make strategies for the next night. It gives him peace of mind. It helps him go to sleep.
Tonight’s different though, tonight every weapon but one stay in their proper place on the wall. He hasn’t used them and he won’t, either. Not tonight.
Tonight the only weapon he checks is a knife; his favorite one. The handle is molded after his grip; the balance perfect. He'd forged the blade himself. It’s beautiful-slender, sharp, deadly-and tonight he will use it on someone who's asked for it. Nicely, even, but with a waver in their voice; a rawness hidden beneath that had cut deeper into Jason than any knife ever could.
Jason, I-I want something from you. On me. Something that’s yours, that will-that will stay yours. Something that lasts.
I... I want you to scar me.
Where? Jason had asked, his mouth dry, his heart lodged in his throat. What?
At that Tim had only smiled, weakly; more of a twitch of the corner of his mouth than anything.
I’ll leave that up to you.
And so Jason sharpens his blade, with meticulous care; and instead of oiling it, he disinfects it.
A few feet away Tim lies on his belly, shirtless, on Jason’s bed. There’s a slight tremor in his shoulders, but his face, turned to Jason, shows calmness with the hint of a smile, only visible in his eyes.
Jason returns it, a glint of teeth added.
He puts the disinfectant wipe to the side, turns the knife in his hand, tearing his eyes away from Tim to study it, make sure, although he already knows it has never been sharper, or cleaner. In his chest there’s a jumble of emotions. Roaring. Swirling. He’s nervous, he’s excited, he’s aroused and scared and hungry and happy. Atop it all is an almost tender possessiveness, and an acceptance of what is to come.
Before the night is over Tim will have bled for him, parted his flesh for him, and accepted Jason inside him in a way he never has before. And after that things will have changed forever. Because Jason will never leave Tim’s body again.
Jason moves to the bed, sinks down on it in a straddle atop Tim’s thighs. He leans down and kisses Tim’s shoulder gently, the exact spot where he’ll cut him, although Tim doesn’t know that yet.
“Ready?” he says.
And after Tim’s nod in reply he begins.