The Language of a Glance
It is one of those days where they are doing nothing. Tim has cleaned everything that needed cleaning (and some things that didn’t), Dick has made his fifteen phone calls of the day, and neither of them are going out on patrol tonight. It’s fucking awesome. Because Jason and Tim are sitting on the couch (Jason’s feet are on Tim’s lap) and watching reality TV (It rots your brain, but Tim watches it anyway).
And this is perfect. Except for one thing.
Tim keeps glancing at him. Which can mean any number of things. If it’s a lingering glance, it means that Tim wants to get to the bedroom because he is in the mood. But it isn’t hat glance. If it is a flickering glance every five minutes, he is restless and wants to go for a walk or go out or something. It isn’t that glance either.
Tim’s glance lingers, but not long enough to imply a physical interest. It flickers, but not fast enough (or at the right interval) to be a restless glance.
This glance is I have a question, but it would be improper to ask so ask me what I’m thinking so I won’t feel as bad. Tim’s glances can get quite specific.
Jason nudges Tim with his foot. “What’s on your mind, Babybird?”
Tim bites his lip and his eyes focus on the television. “What was sex with Talia like?”
Jason stretches and shrugs. “It was fucking fantastic. Why do you as-oh.” Tim’s face doesn’t get sad when he says that, but he does get a thoughtful look that makes Jason moderately concerned, causing him to sit up and scoot closer. “Is my sex life bothering you?”
“No,” he doesn’t look away from the Jersey Shore (and he hates this show, with a burning passion, Jason is sure). “Uhm. I was just. Concerned. Is all. About, ah.” He furrows his brows. “About how I compare. Is all. It sounds very feminine, but, I don’t know. I-“
Jason wraps his arms around Tim and resumes his laying position, pulling Tim on top of him. “Baby, I was dead. For a while. And brain dead. For a while. When I got back up to speed on life, I needed a really good lay. And Talia was a really good lay. But it was a relationship of mutual use. She wanted to have sex, maybe get back at Bruce and I needed to have sex and I enjoyed the funding I got. But-“
“Ah, what about Kory?”
“Jesus, it has been bothering you.”
“No, I just-“
Jason rolls his eyes. “Tim, baby, she was a good lay too. But a little impersonal. And you know I’m sorry about leaving you. Really. It was. It was grief sex, I promise.”
“I know, but-“
“And neither Talia nor Kori’ander could compare to how you are in bed. You are sex personified. The way you move, the way you use your mouth, the sounds I can get out of you. You-and I’m not shitting you, so don’t give me that look-are the best sex I have ever had. Ever. And that’s not even counting the fact that I love you. I was just giving you physical references. You. You have no idea, how it feels to have you here when I get home. To go patrolling with me. To have you cleaning and cooking and nagging about my health. You have no idea what it does when I see you smile at me, or blush, or, hell, even lick your lips. So. Adding our physical relationship to our emotional one, when I sleep with you, even if it’s just holding you as you sleep, I am loving you. With myself. All of myself. That ease your concerns at all?”
Tim is silent for a moment. A long moment. And then he sort of lifts himself up and stares, just stares, at Jason, his lovely blue eyes ghosting over Jason’s face, as if confirming what he had just said. But, then, after glancing at the TV, Tim glances back at him and there is that linger that Jason mentioned earlier.
“Would you like to… prove it? Physically, I mean. Love would be.” He blushes and it’s so fucking cute, Jason doesn’t even have the proper words for it except fucking cute. “Good. I would also like to love you. And show you that I feel it too.”
“You don’t even have to ask. Let me worship you.”
(And that is exactly what Jason does.)
And this is perfect. Except for one thing.
Tim keeps glancing at him. Which can mean any number of things. If it’s a lingering glance, it means that Tim wants to get to the bedroom because he is in the mood. But it isn’t hat glance. If it is a flickering glance every five minutes, he is restless and wants to go for a walk or go out or something. It isn’t that glance either.
Tim’s glance lingers, but not long enough to imply a physical interest. It flickers, but not fast enough (or at the right interval) to be a restless glance.
This glance is I have a question, but it would be improper to ask so ask me what I’m thinking so I won’t feel as bad. Tim’s glances can get quite specific.
Jason nudges Tim with his foot. “What’s on your mind, Babybird?”
Tim bites his lip and his eyes focus on the television. “What was sex with Talia like?”
Jason stretches and shrugs. “It was fucking fantastic. Why do you as-oh.” Tim’s face doesn’t get sad when he says that, but he does get a thoughtful look that makes Jason moderately concerned, causing him to sit up and scoot closer. “Is my sex life bothering you?”
“No,” he doesn’t look away from the Jersey Shore (and he hates this show, with a burning passion, Jason is sure). “Uhm. I was just. Concerned. Is all. About, ah.” He furrows his brows. “About how I compare. Is all. It sounds very feminine, but, I don’t know. I-“
Jason wraps his arms around Tim and resumes his laying position, pulling Tim on top of him. “Baby, I was dead. For a while. And brain dead. For a while. When I got back up to speed on life, I needed a really good lay. And Talia was a really good lay. But it was a relationship of mutual use. She wanted to have sex, maybe get back at Bruce and I needed to have sex and I enjoyed the funding I got. But-“
“Ah, what about Kory?”
“Jesus, it has been bothering you.”
“No, I just-“
Jason rolls his eyes. “Tim, baby, she was a good lay too. But a little impersonal. And you know I’m sorry about leaving you. Really. It was. It was grief sex, I promise.”
“I know, but-“
“And neither Talia nor Kori’ander could compare to how you are in bed. You are sex personified. The way you move, the way you use your mouth, the sounds I can get out of you. You-and I’m not shitting you, so don’t give me that look-are the best sex I have ever had. Ever. And that’s not even counting the fact that I love you. I was just giving you physical references. You. You have no idea, how it feels to have you here when I get home. To go patrolling with me. To have you cleaning and cooking and nagging about my health. You have no idea what it does when I see you smile at me, or blush, or, hell, even lick your lips. So. Adding our physical relationship to our emotional one, when I sleep with you, even if it’s just holding you as you sleep, I am loving you. With myself. All of myself. That ease your concerns at all?”
Tim is silent for a moment. A long moment. And then he sort of lifts himself up and stares, just stares, at Jason, his lovely blue eyes ghosting over Jason’s face, as if confirming what he had just said. But, then, after glancing at the TV, Tim glances back at him and there is that linger that Jason mentioned earlier.
“Would you like to… prove it? Physically, I mean. Love would be.” He blushes and it’s so fucking cute, Jason doesn’t even have the proper words for it except fucking cute. “Good. I would also like to love you. And show you that I feel it too.”
“You don’t even have to ask. Let me worship you.”
(And that is exactly what Jason does.)