“Are you alright?” Tim squints, his new ears standing at attention, “You look flushed.” Jason tears his eyes away to stare at the ceiling, “I’m fine, and you look like Beast Boy’s deleted search history.” “That’s more like it,” Tim takes another step closer and Jason steps back immediately, “but you’re still being weird.” “I’m not being weird, I’m being nice and not trash talking you. Can we get to the case?” There’s a pause, then Tim’s eyes narrow and he brushes his tail against Jason’s leg with deliberation. Jason knows he’s been made when he fails to contain the shiver of arousal that runs through him. Tim’s eyes go wide, “Holy shit. You like it.”

“I’m fine,” Tim says - audibly, with his mouth and everything. Jason stares at it. “You sure?” Jason asks, tamping down the strain of panic rising in his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve got a telepathy situation on their hands, and he fucking hates those. He’s not even beginning to think about the… content of the telepathy.

So Dick couldn’t go to his alpha, and Jason couldn’t go to anyone. Hadn’t needed to, not in years, but this heat—it couldn’t be put off much longer. And there were no other omegas in the family. (It stung, sometimes. That Bruce hadn’t trusted any omegas after them. After Jason. He wondered if Dick had noticed, too.) So yeah. They only had each other, and it was fucking awkward.

Damian has never experienced sexual attraction in the way a majority of the populace does, but he's never been one to let himself miss out on anything. He's also not someone who has any interest in having another person touch him. The solution? Simply doing it himself.

Bruce Wayne is kidnapped by Poison Ivy. Superman comes to the rescue.