Fic: Sex Kitten, Jason/Tim AU, collab with Kirax2 (again)
Title: Sex Kitten
Authors: kirax2 and iesika
Summary: Like mentors, like sidekicks. Sequel to iambickilometer 's Kitten, which in turn was the response to Kira's prompt (secretly mine, behind the scenes, like a shadow puppet master) "Tim Drake became Selina Kyle's (Catwoman's) sidekick instead of Robin."
Rated: Porn. Okay, monitor_duty, rated NC-17. But really rated Porn.
Pairing: Jason/Tim
Words: 1800
DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ Kitten
Tim made a face and ducked behind the large air conditioning unit, waiting for them to finish. As he leaned against the metal, trying not to listen, something landed in the shadows next to him. He sighed. "Robin," he said flatly.
Robin - Jason Todd - grinned at him...no, he wasn't going to think of the grin as 'rakish'. Or 'roguish'. "They at it again?" said the vigilante, jerking his head toward the roof.
A yowl split the night, and Tim grimaced. "What do *you* think?" he said.
Robin peeked out and watched for several long moments. When he came back, his face was flushed and his breathing a bit irregular. "You should come and look," he whispered. "They're *hot* together."
"No thanks," said Tim. He sighed and drummed his fingers against the wall behind him. "Not interested."
Robin frowned, his eyes narrowing. He took a step closer to Tim. Tim tried to slide away, but Robin's arm flew out next to his head, blocking his escape route. "Why not?" Tim shrugged again. Robin moved even closer. Tim went still, hardly breathing. Robin's hand slid down the metal wall behind them, to wrap around the back of Tim's neck. Tim finally reacted, attacking, but Robin was too close, too strong. He pinned Tim up against the wall. "Not interested now?" said Robin, and Tim could feel his breath against his lips.
That breath exploded in a huff across the lower half of his face when Tim's knee connected with Robin's crotch, but Tim's satisfaction was short lived. He found himself pinned hard against the cold metal, Robin's thigh - his thick, muscular, *bare* thigh pressing far more gently up against Tim's own groin.
It took him a moment to realize that instead of being in pain, Robin was laughing at him. “You think I wouldn't wear a cup? I might wear panties to work, sure, but I'm not *stupid*.
"I..." Tim cut himself off with a gasp as Robin's leg *shifted*, sliding forward and back, kind of just rocking up against him in time with the cries on the other side of the roof. Tim *didn't* wear a cup - he was trained to *move*, not fight - but he should have guessed that Robin would, except that that would have meant thinking about Robin's...genetalia, and...No. Tim wasn't going to think about it, even though Robin (Jason) was pinning him up against a wall, his mouth close enough that if Tim just reached out the tiniest bit...
No. He wasn't going to do this. He'd watched Selina go through it too many times. “Just because,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady, “I'm wearing a catsuit...doesn't mean I have a fetish for Bats.”
“No,” Robin breathed against his cheek, not bothering to disguise a slight tremor in his voice, despite the levity of his tone. “But it does make your ass look *fantastic.*”
Tim squirmed. “Do lines like that usually work for you?” he asked, and planted his hands on Robin's shoulders. Instead of pushing him away, though, he pushed *down*, using Robin as a brace to lever himself up and away from the push of his thigh. His slick costume slid against the metal side of the air conditioning unit behind him as he prepared to flip over Robin's shoulders and run like hell. Robin realized what he was doing at once, though, and stepped back just far enough to ruin the angle. He grabbed Tim's wrists and pressed them back on either side of his head.
“Come on, baby,” he purred into Tim's neck, dragging his lips up the column of Tim's throat to brush against his ear. “That suit of yours doesn't leave much to the imagination. You're hard as a rock. We might as well help each other out, don't you think? Since the bosses are busy?”
Tim felt the heat rushing through him as his blood coursed nearer to the surface of his skin, warming it and reddening it. He swallowed. "Look," he said, trying for a level tone. "This is a bad idea. These kinds of things are-" he shivered as Robin bit his neck a little "-never a good idea," he finished, swallowing again.
"So?" said Robin. "Doesn't stop those two," he whispered into Tim's ear, and Tim whimpered in spite of himself.
"Just because - just because they set a bad example - erngh-" His breath caught on a sound as Robin sucked on his earlobe. His wrists were released, but only so Robin could slide his hands down to cup his ass and lift, just a little, and grind against him even harder.
"Still want me to stop?" Robin panted into his ear, his voice low.
Tim shuddered hard, no longer trying to get away. "Jason," he whispered.
"Shit," Robin panted against his cheek. "Shit. Fuck. You know my-" he shuddered all over and thrust Tim back against the wall with enough force to make his head bounce. "God, you feel so good."
The sound of his voice, a low growl so close to Tim's ear, started up a shiver all its own, until Tim was panting, too, clutching at Robin's arms to pull him closer. He felt Robin's tongue, warm and wet, a slow, dragging stroke up his throat, a sucking bite to his jaw, and then there were warm lips against his. He gasped and let his head fall back, let his mouth part under the pressure.
There was a cry and a strangled shout from the other side of the roof. Tim didn't let himself think about what might be happening out of his line of sight. Usually that was less of an effort than it was now, with the texturing of Robin's gauntlets dragging against slick leather, moving over his skin in roaming patterns, pressing as much as stroking. Tim clutched harder at Robin's arms as he was lifted onto his toes, unable to do anything but grind down against Robin's thigh, to let his mouth be taken with almost brutal ferocity. His lips were going to be bruised. Selina was going to make fun of him. She was going to make fun of him *anyway,* because he was going to have to do his own laundry for a *week*.
Robin's hands stroked up his sides, over his stomach, to press and stroke his chest through the suit. He found Tim's nipples through the thin leather, pinching and twisting just to the good side of painfully, and Tim let out an absolutely mortifying mewling sound.
"Heh," Robin panted against his lips. "Kitten."
"F-Fuck you," Tim said, or tried to say, but his breathless tone ruined the effect.
"No," grinned Robin. "Fuck *you*, Kitten." He emphasized the words with another twist and *thrust* of his hips, and his hands slid down to cup Tim's ass again, pulling him tight against him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you. The way you're -" he broke off to gasp and buck up against Tim. "-*riding* it. Always knew you had it in you, Kitten. Can't run around Gotham in a suit like that if you're not looking for some action." He squeezed Tim's ass hard enough that Tim knew he'd have bruises, the fingers of his right hand *pressing* just so at his cleft, just behind his balls -
Tim gasped and shouted, his voice high and thready, holding on for dear life as he shook his way through an overpowering orgasm. His vision blurred and whited out around the edges, his teeth clenching tight even as Robin bit his bottom lip, his teeth surprisingly gentle. Body straining, and then limp, there was nothing he could do but ride the motion as Robin pressed and thrust against him, rocking him, biting and sucking at his chin until he, too, was shaking, a low groan reverberating through the night air.
Tim carefully pried his fingers from Robin's arms, flexing them until he felt reasonably sure they would follow his commands again. He'd left five small scratches on each of Robin's biceps, little punctures from his gloves' short, diamond-tipped claws.
"Heh," said Robin, following Tim's gaze down to his arms. "Souvenirs."
It was on the tip of Tim's tongue to apologize, but instead he snapped, "They're your own damn fault."
Robin smirked and slid his thumb against the edge of Tim's jaw. "Kitten's got claws," he said, and dodged away with a sharp laugh when Tim struck at him half-heartedly. "See you around, Kitty," he said. "I'd tell you to stay out of trouble, but," he leered at Tim, "What fun would that be?" He took a few steps back, waved cheerfully, and did a simple backward somersault over the edge of the roof. Tim heard the burst of compressed air that signaled the use of the Bats' grapple guns.
Well. That wasn't how he'd expected his evening to go. Tim sighed and slid down to rest against the tarpaper roof, wincing at the dampness inside his leather suit, the feel of sweat and semen and stickiness against his skin. He dropped his head back against the AC unit, which rang with a hollow metallic clang. He did it again, hard enough to make his teeth rattle. He and Selina were supposed to be home drinking coffee and counting diamonds by now.
Selina. Oh god. Tim sucked in a lungful of air and held it, listening. There were no more noises coming from the other end of the roof. He let the breath out and pressed his face to his hands. At least she couldn't really lecture him without being a huge hypocrite.
As if on cue, Tim heard the faint scuff of a boot several yards away. Oh well. Time to face the music. He climbed to his feet, checking to make sure his costume was in order. At least the mess he'd made inside it wouldn't show.
"Well," he heard Selina say absently as she approached, "I lost the diamonds, but once he had them back, he let me go. It will be harder to get them once they're back in the bank vault, but I've got faith in your abilty to-" she broke off as she came into sight, adjusting her ears as she came. She dropped her hands to her sides. There was a significant scuff on the leather over her hip, and wisps of hair were escaping from under her mask. "What happened to you?"
Tim just shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "Don't ask."
Selina purred in amusement. She took a few steps closer and patted him on the shoulder in a consoling way. "I know, baby, I know. I'm a bad influence, aren't I? Dragging you into danger, a life of crime, subjecting you to terrible, unscrupulous people."
"Also setting a very bad example," Tim said, finally looking up.
Selina smiled viciously. "Is he bleeding?"
"Yes."
She pulled him into a rough hug. "That's my boy!"
Authors: kirax2 and iesika
Summary: Like mentors, like sidekicks. Sequel to iambickilometer 's Kitten, which in turn was the response to Kira's prompt (secretly mine, behind the scenes, like a shadow puppet master) "Tim Drake became Selina Kyle's (Catwoman's) sidekick instead of Robin."
Rated: Porn. Okay, monitor_duty, rated NC-17. But really rated Porn.
Pairing: Jason/Tim
Words: 1800
DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ Kitten
Tim made a face and ducked behind the large air conditioning unit, waiting for them to finish. As he leaned against the metal, trying not to listen, something landed in the shadows next to him. He sighed. "Robin," he said flatly.
Robin - Jason Todd - grinned at him...no, he wasn't going to think of the grin as 'rakish'. Or 'roguish'. "They at it again?" said the vigilante, jerking his head toward the roof.
A yowl split the night, and Tim grimaced. "What do *you* think?" he said.
Robin peeked out and watched for several long moments. When he came back, his face was flushed and his breathing a bit irregular. "You should come and look," he whispered. "They're *hot* together."
"No thanks," said Tim. He sighed and drummed his fingers against the wall behind him. "Not interested."
Robin frowned, his eyes narrowing. He took a step closer to Tim. Tim tried to slide away, but Robin's arm flew out next to his head, blocking his escape route. "Why not?" Tim shrugged again. Robin moved even closer. Tim went still, hardly breathing. Robin's hand slid down the metal wall behind them, to wrap around the back of Tim's neck. Tim finally reacted, attacking, but Robin was too close, too strong. He pinned Tim up against the wall. "Not interested now?" said Robin, and Tim could feel his breath against his lips.
That breath exploded in a huff across the lower half of his face when Tim's knee connected with Robin's crotch, but Tim's satisfaction was short lived. He found himself pinned hard against the cold metal, Robin's thigh - his thick, muscular, *bare* thigh pressing far more gently up against Tim's own groin.
It took him a moment to realize that instead of being in pain, Robin was laughing at him. “You think I wouldn't wear a cup? I might wear panties to work, sure, but I'm not *stupid*.
"I..." Tim cut himself off with a gasp as Robin's leg *shifted*, sliding forward and back, kind of just rocking up against him in time with the cries on the other side of the roof. Tim *didn't* wear a cup - he was trained to *move*, not fight - but he should have guessed that Robin would, except that that would have meant thinking about Robin's...genetalia, and...No. Tim wasn't going to think about it, even though Robin (Jason) was pinning him up against a wall, his mouth close enough that if Tim just reached out the tiniest bit...
No. He wasn't going to do this. He'd watched Selina go through it too many times. “Just because,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady, “I'm wearing a catsuit...doesn't mean I have a fetish for Bats.”
“No,” Robin breathed against his cheek, not bothering to disguise a slight tremor in his voice, despite the levity of his tone. “But it does make your ass look *fantastic.*”
Tim squirmed. “Do lines like that usually work for you?” he asked, and planted his hands on Robin's shoulders. Instead of pushing him away, though, he pushed *down*, using Robin as a brace to lever himself up and away from the push of his thigh. His slick costume slid against the metal side of the air conditioning unit behind him as he prepared to flip over Robin's shoulders and run like hell. Robin realized what he was doing at once, though, and stepped back just far enough to ruin the angle. He grabbed Tim's wrists and pressed them back on either side of his head.
“Come on, baby,” he purred into Tim's neck, dragging his lips up the column of Tim's throat to brush against his ear. “That suit of yours doesn't leave much to the imagination. You're hard as a rock. We might as well help each other out, don't you think? Since the bosses are busy?”
Tim felt the heat rushing through him as his blood coursed nearer to the surface of his skin, warming it and reddening it. He swallowed. "Look," he said, trying for a level tone. "This is a bad idea. These kinds of things are-" he shivered as Robin bit his neck a little "-never a good idea," he finished, swallowing again.
"So?" said Robin. "Doesn't stop those two," he whispered into Tim's ear, and Tim whimpered in spite of himself.
"Just because - just because they set a bad example - erngh-" His breath caught on a sound as Robin sucked on his earlobe. His wrists were released, but only so Robin could slide his hands down to cup his ass and lift, just a little, and grind against him even harder.
"Still want me to stop?" Robin panted into his ear, his voice low.
Tim shuddered hard, no longer trying to get away. "Jason," he whispered.
"Shit," Robin panted against his cheek. "Shit. Fuck. You know my-" he shuddered all over and thrust Tim back against the wall with enough force to make his head bounce. "God, you feel so good."
The sound of his voice, a low growl so close to Tim's ear, started up a shiver all its own, until Tim was panting, too, clutching at Robin's arms to pull him closer. He felt Robin's tongue, warm and wet, a slow, dragging stroke up his throat, a sucking bite to his jaw, and then there were warm lips against his. He gasped and let his head fall back, let his mouth part under the pressure.
There was a cry and a strangled shout from the other side of the roof. Tim didn't let himself think about what might be happening out of his line of sight. Usually that was less of an effort than it was now, with the texturing of Robin's gauntlets dragging against slick leather, moving over his skin in roaming patterns, pressing as much as stroking. Tim clutched harder at Robin's arms as he was lifted onto his toes, unable to do anything but grind down against Robin's thigh, to let his mouth be taken with almost brutal ferocity. His lips were going to be bruised. Selina was going to make fun of him. She was going to make fun of him *anyway,* because he was going to have to do his own laundry for a *week*.
Robin's hands stroked up his sides, over his stomach, to press and stroke his chest through the suit. He found Tim's nipples through the thin leather, pinching and twisting just to the good side of painfully, and Tim let out an absolutely mortifying mewling sound.
"Heh," Robin panted against his lips. "Kitten."
"F-Fuck you," Tim said, or tried to say, but his breathless tone ruined the effect.
"No," grinned Robin. "Fuck *you*, Kitten." He emphasized the words with another twist and *thrust* of his hips, and his hands slid down to cup Tim's ass again, pulling him tight against him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you. The way you're -" he broke off to gasp and buck up against Tim. "-*riding* it. Always knew you had it in you, Kitten. Can't run around Gotham in a suit like that if you're not looking for some action." He squeezed Tim's ass hard enough that Tim knew he'd have bruises, the fingers of his right hand *pressing* just so at his cleft, just behind his balls -
Tim gasped and shouted, his voice high and thready, holding on for dear life as he shook his way through an overpowering orgasm. His vision blurred and whited out around the edges, his teeth clenching tight even as Robin bit his bottom lip, his teeth surprisingly gentle. Body straining, and then limp, there was nothing he could do but ride the motion as Robin pressed and thrust against him, rocking him, biting and sucking at his chin until he, too, was shaking, a low groan reverberating through the night air.
Tim carefully pried his fingers from Robin's arms, flexing them until he felt reasonably sure they would follow his commands again. He'd left five small scratches on each of Robin's biceps, little punctures from his gloves' short, diamond-tipped claws.
"Heh," said Robin, following Tim's gaze down to his arms. "Souvenirs."
It was on the tip of Tim's tongue to apologize, but instead he snapped, "They're your own damn fault."
Robin smirked and slid his thumb against the edge of Tim's jaw. "Kitten's got claws," he said, and dodged away with a sharp laugh when Tim struck at him half-heartedly. "See you around, Kitty," he said. "I'd tell you to stay out of trouble, but," he leered at Tim, "What fun would that be?" He took a few steps back, waved cheerfully, and did a simple backward somersault over the edge of the roof. Tim heard the burst of compressed air that signaled the use of the Bats' grapple guns.
Well. That wasn't how he'd expected his evening to go. Tim sighed and slid down to rest against the tarpaper roof, wincing at the dampness inside his leather suit, the feel of sweat and semen and stickiness against his skin. He dropped his head back against the AC unit, which rang with a hollow metallic clang. He did it again, hard enough to make his teeth rattle. He and Selina were supposed to be home drinking coffee and counting diamonds by now.
Selina. Oh god. Tim sucked in a lungful of air and held it, listening. There were no more noises coming from the other end of the roof. He let the breath out and pressed his face to his hands. At least she couldn't really lecture him without being a huge hypocrite.
As if on cue, Tim heard the faint scuff of a boot several yards away. Oh well. Time to face the music. He climbed to his feet, checking to make sure his costume was in order. At least the mess he'd made inside it wouldn't show.
"Well," he heard Selina say absently as she approached, "I lost the diamonds, but once he had them back, he let me go. It will be harder to get them once they're back in the bank vault, but I've got faith in your abilty to-" she broke off as she came into sight, adjusting her ears as she came. She dropped her hands to her sides. There was a significant scuff on the leather over her hip, and wisps of hair were escaping from under her mask. "What happened to you?"
Tim just shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "Don't ask."
Selina purred in amusement. She took a few steps closer and patted him on the shoulder in a consoling way. "I know, baby, I know. I'm a bad influence, aren't I? Dragging you into danger, a life of crime, subjecting you to terrible, unscrupulous people."
"Also setting a very bad example," Tim said, finally looking up.
Selina smiled viciously. "Is he bleeding?"
"Yes."
She pulled him into a rough hug. "That's my boy!"