... I disclaim all responsibility for this.
Title: Want may press thee down
Summary: It's dangerous to catch the attention of Lady Shiva's protégé.
Author's Notes: ... I talked to Marcelo and Chevauchee. Look, we know how it ends when something like that happens. Scariness below the cut, of the AU Timmish variety. Rated PG-18.
Content some readers may find disturbing.
For sockich, who is having a lousy week.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters described herein; DC has all.
He has been trained to respect artistry. Movement. Beauty, in some senses of the word.
He had not thought to find something worthy of awe in a circus, even in an act as famed as the world-renowned Flying Graysons.
He vaguely remembers that they had been scheduled to appear in Gotham a few years before Tim had begun his research on assassins.
The twist between trapezes is one Tim could not perform. Even Shiva herself would have difficulty with several of the moves this Dick Grayson makes look effortless as breathing, as the nervestrikes Tim could do in his sleep. He very nearly forgets to keep an eye on the target, staring up into the air at the moving, laughing man.
Tim kills the target as they're leaving after the show, and he dreams of Dick Grayson's eyes and smile and laugh and strong, lithe body for the next week.
***
The second time in three months he almost fails a contract, Shiva breaks both his legs and demands an explanation. When he gives one, almost managing not to stutter on the words 'wet dream,' she blinks. And laughs.
"The security is poor on that circus. What have I taught you, Kali?"
If it were anyone else, Tim would object to that name more strenuously. Lady Shiva has made him everything he is and has the right to refer to him by any name she chooses. "If I want something, take it. If I don't, don't. If I can't, deal with that failure, or alter the situation so that I can."
"You have earned a gift, Tim."
He blinks. She smiles.
"When your legs heal, take your circus boy." The look in her eyes is a clear dismissal.
Tim nods. "Thank you." As she is walking away, he calls after her, "I will not be so distracted on a contract again."
She pauses. "Of course. You are my apprentice."
***
The breaks heal cleanly, of course. Tim is impatient enough that he almost fidgets before Shiva agrees that he is healed enough to go and permits him to leave. He heads immediately for Haly's Circus, performing this month in Vienna.
He had spent his recuperation planning his entrance, mode of attack, and exit. Their security is terrible.
It takes two minutes to find Dick Grayson, walking carelessly near the tiger cages. Tim smiles, watches him smile back, and knocks him out with a strike to his jaw. The fracture is minimal and will not damage his face greatly.
He is heavy, of course. Fortunately, no one is nearby to see Tim half-dragging the body to his car, or buckling an unconscious man into the passenger seat.
Tim keeps one hand on a warm, muscled thigh throughout the drive back to rendezvous.
***
Nudity suits Dick Grayson far better than the gaudy outfits he had worn for the circus. Tim spends far too long simply looking at him, trying to keep his breathing even.
His legs are long and slightly hairy. His abdomen is firm and muscled. His thighs are scarred. His groin… Tim licks his dry lips and continues to observe. His wrists are powerful, and his shoulders are broad. His chest is well-formed, and Tim wants to bite his nipples.
He is beautiful.
The cuffs click on satisfyingly quietly, as does the collar. Tim sits by the edge of the bed and waits for his gift to wake up.
-- Finis
Summary: It's dangerous to catch the attention of Lady Shiva's protégé.
Author's Notes: ... I talked to Marcelo and Chevauchee. Look, we know how it ends when something like that happens. Scariness below the cut, of the AU Timmish variety. Rated PG-18.
Content some readers may find disturbing.
For sockich, who is having a lousy week.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters described herein; DC has all.
He has been trained to respect artistry. Movement. Beauty, in some senses of the word.
He had not thought to find something worthy of awe in a circus, even in an act as famed as the world-renowned Flying Graysons.
He vaguely remembers that they had been scheduled to appear in Gotham a few years before Tim had begun his research on assassins.
The twist between trapezes is one Tim could not perform. Even Shiva herself would have difficulty with several of the moves this Dick Grayson makes look effortless as breathing, as the nervestrikes Tim could do in his sleep. He very nearly forgets to keep an eye on the target, staring up into the air at the moving, laughing man.
Tim kills the target as they're leaving after the show, and he dreams of Dick Grayson's eyes and smile and laugh and strong, lithe body for the next week.
***
The second time in three months he almost fails a contract, Shiva breaks both his legs and demands an explanation. When he gives one, almost managing not to stutter on the words 'wet dream,' she blinks. And laughs.
"The security is poor on that circus. What have I taught you, Kali?"
If it were anyone else, Tim would object to that name more strenuously. Lady Shiva has made him everything he is and has the right to refer to him by any name she chooses. "If I want something, take it. If I don't, don't. If I can't, deal with that failure, or alter the situation so that I can."
"You have earned a gift, Tim."
He blinks. She smiles.
"When your legs heal, take your circus boy." The look in her eyes is a clear dismissal.
Tim nods. "Thank you." As she is walking away, he calls after her, "I will not be so distracted on a contract again."
She pauses. "Of course. You are my apprentice."
***
The breaks heal cleanly, of course. Tim is impatient enough that he almost fidgets before Shiva agrees that he is healed enough to go and permits him to leave. He heads immediately for Haly's Circus, performing this month in Vienna.
He had spent his recuperation planning his entrance, mode of attack, and exit. Their security is terrible.
It takes two minutes to find Dick Grayson, walking carelessly near the tiger cages. Tim smiles, watches him smile back, and knocks him out with a strike to his jaw. The fracture is minimal and will not damage his face greatly.
He is heavy, of course. Fortunately, no one is nearby to see Tim half-dragging the body to his car, or buckling an unconscious man into the passenger seat.
Tim keeps one hand on a warm, muscled thigh throughout the drive back to rendezvous.
***
Nudity suits Dick Grayson far better than the gaudy outfits he had worn for the circus. Tim spends far too long simply looking at him, trying to keep his breathing even.
His legs are long and slightly hairy. His abdomen is firm and muscled. His thighs are scarred. His groin… Tim licks his dry lips and continues to observe. His wrists are powerful, and his shoulders are broad. His chest is well-formed, and Tim wants to bite his nipples.
He is beautiful.
The cuffs click on satisfyingly quietly, as does the collar. Tim sits by the edge of the bed and waits for his gift to wake up.
-- Finis