"Hey, Birdboy, what're you wearing?"

Damian asks a dumb question. Jason gives him way more information than he was looking for.

For the prompt on the robincest meme over at dcu-memes, "Tim riding Jason. Hard."

Tim really, really likes it when Jason comes inside him.

Surprisingly enough, Ivy didn't like getting fruit baskets as thank yous. Jason'd have to find something else to send her.

There's something different about the weight of these eyes. Something that makes Jason sit up and take notice.

Sometimes, announcing something can be done without any words being spoken.

Tim's got a lot of revenge to plan for this.

Tim knows his taste in music is a little eclectic.

Bruce really had no one else to blame but himself for allowing them to go to Vegas. What else was he expecting them to do?

Tim doesn't encourage the public, they do it themselves.

Tim sleeps in the attic every Christmas Eve. It doesn't really mean much, it's just habit by now.

Nothing good has ever come from Steph and Dick plotting together. Nothing.

He teams up with Red Hood Tuesday nights for patrol, and while it's not quite the date Tim could want it's what he'll take.

Jason has opinions about both Hamlet and bullying, and is willing to express those opinions with words. Or his fists. Whichever is the best weapon at the time. It's all the same in the end to him.

Follows this chapter but isn't actually a text so I don't feel right putting it with that work.

It's not until after he's pulled the whole thing off that Jason realizes what a stupid move it was.

Jason tilts his head and stares at the innocuous post it notes on his fridge.

Jason's gone and Tim finds that he's the only one who thinks it wasn't on purpose.

Tim never was one for sharing his plans with others.

Tim doesn't expect his time in the hospital to be very eventful.

Jason had thought that putting Tim in a dress and forcing him into the public would be a good show. He's right. Just not in the way he'd thought.

Kon raises an eyebrow, "You weren't kissing random people. I mean – you looked pretty goal oriented when you went off to shove your tongue down his throat and make friends with his tonsils."

"Is it too early to go and lock myself in my room and scream?"

Tim refrains from telling Jason that most people are terrified of sharks. It seems a bit pointless. Tim isn't most people, after all.

"It's a match made in high society heaven." Tim drawls. "Also, it's your turn to make dinner tonight, you should get on that."

"Didn't you know, Jason?" Tim says, voice light and taking on that tone that their public personas use, "I'm a winter. Lavender is my color."

ne dislocated shoulder and two minor intergalactic incidents later, and all Tim wants is a shower, a mushroom and swiss cheeseburger, and a blowjob, preferably in that order.

“I may have made some hats,” Jason says in a rush, “and, um, possibly some capelets. And booties. And — aw, c’mon, don’t look at me like that, Croissant gets really fricking cold and Taco loves to run around in the park, I had to make stuff to keep her warm —”

Tim has a thing for buying sex toys (in bulk, Jason suspects) and Jason is constantly putting his foot in his mouth about what things his lover likes.

Jason's the Red Hood and being the Red Hood gives him sex magic. Duh.

Tim is bad at feelings, so he instigates a prank war. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

They're playing a game, the same one they've played time and time again, and Tim fully intends to win.

Thanks for the spank bank material, replacement, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t meant for me.

“You know, just out of curiosity,” Red Robin begins, and Jason twists to face him, “are you from Gotham?” “What gave it away?” Jason drawls as fire sirens start up in the distance. “My anger issues, or my apathy in the face of the new supervillain flavor of the week?” (Or: That time Jason moves to New York and becomes a meme.)

“Quick! How do I help an omega that’s nearing critical heat?” Jason asked. “What?’ Roy asked. “The hell ya need to know that for?” “Because I got one with me right now and-- Ah!! Hands! Hands!” Or the one where Jason goes to drop off groceries at the Nest only to get dragged into helping Tim through a critical heat while Roy gives advice from the sidelines.

In which the Robins aren’t so good at keeping their sexualities a secret, not that most of them would want to anyway. Or How each of the Robins accidentally came out and made a club to commiserate together.

Jason raises his eyebrows. "So we like… spar? And you'll what, let me fuck you if I win?" "Sure. If you win." Tim smiles and a thrill goes up Jason's spine. He shucks off his jacket and shoes before making his way to the mat. "It's a deal, then. Hope you won't regret it, Replacement." Tim's teeth look strangely sharp under the Cave lighting when he says, "I'll try my best."

The costume version of the Red Robin uniform that Cass provided Jason with has been altered to fit his proportions. The fabric is form-fitting but not uncomfortable, and the bandoliers snap across his chest without issue… except for the sordid way they frame his pecs. Between the chest action, the absence of a cup, and the feathered cape, he really feels like he's about to turn tricks. But, well… he can't complain. At least he has it better than Tim.

Five times Tim had a wet dream about his best friend, and one time he didn't.

Tim overhears a little tidbit of information about Jason that makes him wonder what it would be like to take him to bed. It doesn't take much to convince Jason to let him find out.

“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.”

“Bring me the Joker’s head on a platter,” Jason says, and he doesn’t mean anything by it, not really. It’s the kind of thing he jokes about when he’s overwhelmed, and he’s overwhelmed by Tim a lot. Tim’s intensity makes Jason turn flippant, makes him counterweigh the seriousness with comments about his own torture and death, like that will somehow lighten the mood. Jason says all kinds of things, for all kinds of reasons. He doesn’t expect anyone to listen.

"You're so fucking stubborn," Hood says. "It's infuriating." Red bristles, but fighting's like foreplay when he's got this much adrenaline. "Yeah?" He taunts. Can't help himself. Hood's grip around his wrist tightens, and it only serves to remind Red how fucking strong he is. Red's pulse somehow gets even faster, beating in his ears so loudly that he isn't sure how Hood doesn't hear it. "Yeah," Hood agrees. Tim's watching his mouth as it forms the words. "It drives me fuckin' crazy, babybird."

“Baby, you have no idea how this is going to play out,” Tim murmurs, voice a low rumble that makes Jason shiver with arousal. He casts Tim a dark, challenging look, and growls back, “Try me.”

Jason's had worse heats. Don't ask him when— but he's sure he's had them.

Jason, on a mission, gets captured. Tim, working undercover, goes to get him out. There's...a side benefit.

“Sometimes when Bruce is being an asshole, the best response is to be an asshole right back,” Jason says, dropping down next to Tim and propping his boots on the milk crates he uses for a coffee table. “I used to go hang out with all the bad kids so I guess you’re already on the right track.”

Jason's plan to meet and school his replacement is going great, until it isn't. Tim Drake isn't exactly what Talia told him… he's better.

“Welcome to Red Hood’s Apothecary,” Jason says, coolly. “What can I do for you?” The stranger comes up to the counter, and Jason shudders. The man is short and slim, but there’s an aura of power around him that calls to Jason’s demonic nature. That can only mean one thing. Witch. And one trained by someone skilled. In fact, Jason is pretty sure that he recognizes Bruce's style all over the guy's warded clothes. Acid bubbles in his belly. His replacement has no business looking so good.