Fic: No Good Options; TIm Drake/Dick Grayson; Hard R
Title: No Good Options
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: Tim/Dick
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Maybe Dubcon? Mostly it's just pretty fucked up.
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 1,500ish
Author's Notes: for ladyblkrose in the Fic or Treat Meme. Also for my Duc table at dcu_freeforall, prompt #03 wind
No Good Options
The air came into Tim's lungs in harsh, ragged gulps that were almost painful. His muscles ached with fatigue, and his left arm tingled from the effects of the nerve strike that Dick hadn't quite pulled.
It was the first time he and Dick had sparred since Tim came back to Gotham city. Things had been different between them since the moment Tim had walked back into the Cave. More tense, less easy, less relaxed. All of that was palpable here and now, in the air between the two of them.
Tim wasn't pinned, not physically. He was sprawled, almost spread eagle under Dick. He held himself very still, body deliberately relaxed as Dick looked down at him.
There were dozens of ways that Tim could get out from under Dick, and gain the upper hand. Tim had to deliberately made himself not react in all the ways his body screamed at him to. Tim didn't need to go over each and every scenario for his liberation in his head. Tim felt them in his hands and legs and arms. The impulse behind the sudden, abortive moments didn't need to register in his conscious mind for Tim to know where they would lead.
Tim didn't move, though. He controlled those impulses, those instincts that were beaten so fiercely into him. Tim lay, panting and drenched in sweat, transfixed by the look in Dick's eyes.
Dick's eyes were locked on Tim's face with an expression full of fear and indecision and an emotion that Tim couldn't quite name. It was terrible and riveting and Tim just couldn't bring himself to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.
In the end, Tim was glad he had been watching so carefully because the change in Dick's facial expression came in a flash.
Tim didn't even have the chance to brace himself before Dick really was pinning him. Tim was too startled by the look on Dick's face to react properly, when Dick twisted Tim's arm into a brutal lock. The awkward wrench Dick was using to hold Tim's arm, and the weight of Dick's body holding him down made it impossible to get out of the lock without dislocating his shoulder.
Tim could already feel the joint starting to pull out of place. A thrill of fear went through Tim, and he swallowed hard.
Dick was never like this. Ever. Whenever the two of them sparred before , it had always been light, almost playful. They never went full speed, there were never 'accidental' nerve strikes, there were never vicious locks. Dick had never actually hurt Tim.
“Dick what--” Tim was cut off when Dick grabbed him roughly by the chin, and forced his head back.
It was rough, and it was brutal in ways Dick never was. Not with Tim. Not ever with Tim.
His fingers were hard on Tim's jaw, and his eyes were sharp.
Tim went limp again, figuring that whatever Dick was up to it would be best if he thought Tim wasn't going to fight it. It would also be best if Tim's arm wasn't dislocated.
Tim was running through ways to diffuse the situation. He needed to break the tension, and he needed to break it immediately. His whole mind was so focused on that one task that he was completely taken by surprise when Dick kissed him.
That's when everything changed.
Tim's world exploded in a burst of want and terror and confusion. His vision went white and his whole body flushed with heat and passion.
Every hug, every hand through his hair, or quick, chaste kiss flashed through Tim's mind like a bolt. This didn't feel like any of those things. This was something Tim didn't have a frame of reference for.
Tim shivered, and Dick moaned. Dick pressed his hips to Tim's, and he pressed his tongue against Tim's mouth. Tim gasped in shock at the feel of slick heat against his lips. It was slick, and it was fast, and Tim could feel how hard Dick was breathing.
Dick pressed his advantage, and pushed inside Tim's mouth.
A shock was ran through Tim, and he felt boneless and helpless.
He knew he should do something. He should kiss back, he should stop this. He should scream and yell, and reverse the damn lock so he could roll Dick over, rub himself down the length of Dick's body just like--
Just like he had always wanted to, but never had because it was wrong then, and it was just as wrong now.
Tim needed to stop. He had to stop. He had to--
“Fuck, Tim,” Dick groaned against his mouth. Dick's wet lips were just as soft as Tim's had always guessed they would be.
Another thrill of want rushed through him, followed quickly by another rush of fear.
“Stop,” Tim rasped, but his voice was barely audible.
Dick's fingers tightened on Tim's arm. He pressed soft, frantic kisses to Tim's mouth and jaw and neck. Tim squirmed and gasped in pain as his movements wrenched his shoulder joint.
“Stop,” he said again, louder this time, and more desperate.
“I don't think I can,” Dick said, and his voice was full of giddy fear. “I can't anymore. I need you, little brother. I need you so bad. It hurt so much to send you away but I had to because if I hadn't-” Dick broke off with a harsh laugh, and shook his head.
Dick's hair tickled the sensitive skin of Tim's neck. The puffs of breath that came with every laugh teased along Tim's throat in a way that made him push close to that hot, wet mouth. All Tim wanted, all Tim could think of, was begging Dick to kiss him there.
“If I hadn't sent you away, I would have done this,” Dick emphasized the last word with a squeeze of his hands on Tim's arms. “I would have done this when you were too vulnerable, too broken, too needy to say no to me.”
Tim couldn't seem to absorb what Dick was saying. He heard the words, but they didn't make sense. None of this seemed right. None of this seemed like Dick. There had been no indication that he had ever--
There was absolutely no indication--
“I would have taken advantage, and you would have hated me for it. Maybe you do, even now. Or maybe you hate me already for sending you away in the first place.” Dick let out an exasperated sound. “There were no good options. You have to see that, Tim. There were no good options.”
“I see,” Tim began and winced at the breathless quality of his own voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I see that you're pretty broken and needy yourself just now. I've gotten better, Dick, but you haven't. This is still not a good option, Dick. For either of us. You know that.”
Dick laughed a low, almost hysterical laugh and dropped his head to Tim's shoulder.
“We can't do this Dick,” Tim said and heard an edge of desperation creep into his voice, but it was much steadier than it had been before. Especially compared to Dick's right now. “I don't want to do this.”
“Yes you do,” Dick shot back almost bitterly. “Don't lie to me. I can't believe you ever thought you could. Do you think I would do this if I didn't know. You do want this, Tim. You've always wanted this and--”
Maybe Dick had reared back just enough, maybe he had taken just enough pressure off of the lock, or maybe Tim was just that panicked. Tim somehow managed enough leverage to reverse the lock and punch Dick in the side of the head.
Tim didn't pull the blow.
Dick jerked back with a bark of surprise. He tried to evade the strike, but didn't quite manage it. Tim used Dick's own momentum to roll them both over. He scrambled away from Dick as quickly as he could, still in a crouch.
“Maybe,” Tim began as Dick brought a hand to place on the side of his head that Tim had struck him. “Maybe when I was twelve, but I'm not twelve anymore, Dick. I know better now, and you're the last thing I could ever want.”
Dick's eyes went dark and heartbroken. Tim could see the pain in them, and he had to turn away. He couldn't look at Dick anymore. Not now that all the careful lies, and well meaning deceptions were stripped away, Tim couldn't face it.
He couldn't face Dick.
Tim ran. He found his Ducati and exited the cave on autopilot.
He rushed out into the crisp cleansing darkness of the night. The wind hit his face and he let it wash everything away. He let it blast the hurt, and pain, and fear from his skin, from his body, from his soul.
Tim imagined that the wind washed him clean of all that had happened between he and Dick. He picked up the speed and the wind gusted around him with a seething intensity. He took comfort in the biting sting of it.
Tim drove very fast, and didn't think.
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: Tim/Dick
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Maybe Dubcon? Mostly it's just pretty fucked up.
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 1,500ish
Author's Notes: for ladyblkrose in the Fic or Treat Meme. Also for my Duc table at dcu_freeforall, prompt #03 wind
No Good Options
The air came into Tim's lungs in harsh, ragged gulps that were almost painful. His muscles ached with fatigue, and his left arm tingled from the effects of the nerve strike that Dick hadn't quite pulled.
It was the first time he and Dick had sparred since Tim came back to Gotham city. Things had been different between them since the moment Tim had walked back into the Cave. More tense, less easy, less relaxed. All of that was palpable here and now, in the air between the two of them.
Tim wasn't pinned, not physically. He was sprawled, almost spread eagle under Dick. He held himself very still, body deliberately relaxed as Dick looked down at him.
There were dozens of ways that Tim could get out from under Dick, and gain the upper hand. Tim had to deliberately made himself not react in all the ways his body screamed at him to. Tim didn't need to go over each and every scenario for his liberation in his head. Tim felt them in his hands and legs and arms. The impulse behind the sudden, abortive moments didn't need to register in his conscious mind for Tim to know where they would lead.
Tim didn't move, though. He controlled those impulses, those instincts that were beaten so fiercely into him. Tim lay, panting and drenched in sweat, transfixed by the look in Dick's eyes.
Dick's eyes were locked on Tim's face with an expression full of fear and indecision and an emotion that Tim couldn't quite name. It was terrible and riveting and Tim just couldn't bring himself to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.
In the end, Tim was glad he had been watching so carefully because the change in Dick's facial expression came in a flash.
Tim didn't even have the chance to brace himself before Dick really was pinning him. Tim was too startled by the look on Dick's face to react properly, when Dick twisted Tim's arm into a brutal lock. The awkward wrench Dick was using to hold Tim's arm, and the weight of Dick's body holding him down made it impossible to get out of the lock without dislocating his shoulder.
Tim could already feel the joint starting to pull out of place. A thrill of fear went through Tim, and he swallowed hard.
Dick was never like this. Ever. Whenever the two of them sparred before , it had always been light, almost playful. They never went full speed, there were never 'accidental' nerve strikes, there were never vicious locks. Dick had never actually hurt Tim.
“Dick what--” Tim was cut off when Dick grabbed him roughly by the chin, and forced his head back.
It was rough, and it was brutal in ways Dick never was. Not with Tim. Not ever with Tim.
His fingers were hard on Tim's jaw, and his eyes were sharp.
Tim went limp again, figuring that whatever Dick was up to it would be best if he thought Tim wasn't going to fight it. It would also be best if Tim's arm wasn't dislocated.
Tim was running through ways to diffuse the situation. He needed to break the tension, and he needed to break it immediately. His whole mind was so focused on that one task that he was completely taken by surprise when Dick kissed him.
That's when everything changed.
Tim's world exploded in a burst of want and terror and confusion. His vision went white and his whole body flushed with heat and passion.
Every hug, every hand through his hair, or quick, chaste kiss flashed through Tim's mind like a bolt. This didn't feel like any of those things. This was something Tim didn't have a frame of reference for.
Tim shivered, and Dick moaned. Dick pressed his hips to Tim's, and he pressed his tongue against Tim's mouth. Tim gasped in shock at the feel of slick heat against his lips. It was slick, and it was fast, and Tim could feel how hard Dick was breathing.
Dick pressed his advantage, and pushed inside Tim's mouth.
A shock was ran through Tim, and he felt boneless and helpless.
He knew he should do something. He should kiss back, he should stop this. He should scream and yell, and reverse the damn lock so he could roll Dick over, rub himself down the length of Dick's body just like--
Just like he had always wanted to, but never had because it was wrong then, and it was just as wrong now.
Tim needed to stop. He had to stop. He had to--
“Fuck, Tim,” Dick groaned against his mouth. Dick's wet lips were just as soft as Tim's had always guessed they would be.
Another thrill of want rushed through him, followed quickly by another rush of fear.
“Stop,” Tim rasped, but his voice was barely audible.
Dick's fingers tightened on Tim's arm. He pressed soft, frantic kisses to Tim's mouth and jaw and neck. Tim squirmed and gasped in pain as his movements wrenched his shoulder joint.
“Stop,” he said again, louder this time, and more desperate.
“I don't think I can,” Dick said, and his voice was full of giddy fear. “I can't anymore. I need you, little brother. I need you so bad. It hurt so much to send you away but I had to because if I hadn't-” Dick broke off with a harsh laugh, and shook his head.
Dick's hair tickled the sensitive skin of Tim's neck. The puffs of breath that came with every laugh teased along Tim's throat in a way that made him push close to that hot, wet mouth. All Tim wanted, all Tim could think of, was begging Dick to kiss him there.
“If I hadn't sent you away, I would have done this,” Dick emphasized the last word with a squeeze of his hands on Tim's arms. “I would have done this when you were too vulnerable, too broken, too needy to say no to me.”
Tim couldn't seem to absorb what Dick was saying. He heard the words, but they didn't make sense. None of this seemed right. None of this seemed like Dick. There had been no indication that he had ever--
There was absolutely no indication--
“I would have taken advantage, and you would have hated me for it. Maybe you do, even now. Or maybe you hate me already for sending you away in the first place.” Dick let out an exasperated sound. “There were no good options. You have to see that, Tim. There were no good options.”
“I see,” Tim began and winced at the breathless quality of his own voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I see that you're pretty broken and needy yourself just now. I've gotten better, Dick, but you haven't. This is still not a good option, Dick. For either of us. You know that.”
Dick laughed a low, almost hysterical laugh and dropped his head to Tim's shoulder.
“We can't do this Dick,” Tim said and heard an edge of desperation creep into his voice, but it was much steadier than it had been before. Especially compared to Dick's right now. “I don't want to do this.”
“Yes you do,” Dick shot back almost bitterly. “Don't lie to me. I can't believe you ever thought you could. Do you think I would do this if I didn't know. You do want this, Tim. You've always wanted this and--”
Maybe Dick had reared back just enough, maybe he had taken just enough pressure off of the lock, or maybe Tim was just that panicked. Tim somehow managed enough leverage to reverse the lock and punch Dick in the side of the head.
Tim didn't pull the blow.
Dick jerked back with a bark of surprise. He tried to evade the strike, but didn't quite manage it. Tim used Dick's own momentum to roll them both over. He scrambled away from Dick as quickly as he could, still in a crouch.
“Maybe,” Tim began as Dick brought a hand to place on the side of his head that Tim had struck him. “Maybe when I was twelve, but I'm not twelve anymore, Dick. I know better now, and you're the last thing I could ever want.”
Dick's eyes went dark and heartbroken. Tim could see the pain in them, and he had to turn away. He couldn't look at Dick anymore. Not now that all the careful lies, and well meaning deceptions were stripped away, Tim couldn't face it.
He couldn't face Dick.
Tim ran. He found his Ducati and exited the cave on autopilot.
He rushed out into the crisp cleansing darkness of the night. The wind hit his face and he let it wash everything away. He let it blast the hurt, and pain, and fear from his skin, from his body, from his soul.
Tim imagined that the wind washed him clean of all that had happened between he and Dick. He picked up the speed and the wind gusted around him with a seething intensity. He took comfort in the biting sting of it.
Tim drove very fast, and didn't think.