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Jason is more than familiar with Tim’s place. As much as they end up back at his various safe houses high on the adrenaline of patrol, he ends up slipping into the penthouse to curl around Tim just as much. They haven’t defined anything, which is really Jason’s fault, but they’re somewhat committed to each other which means Jason has consent to do a lot of things.
Things like fucking Tim while he sleeps.
Tim has a truly shitty relationship with sleep. Half the time it's like he’s allergic to the practice and the other half they’ll find him falling asleep everywhere from warehouse rafters to his cheerios. Normal sleeping schedules are already a thing of the past for anyone even slightly associated with Batman but Tim takes it to another degree.
This means that anytime he’s asleep in his own bed before the ripe hour of three in the morning, it means something. It can go one of two ways. One, he has something important to do as Timothy Drake in the morning. Two, he wants Jason to fuck him in his sleep.
The first time he’d brought it up with Jason the older man had been understandably edgy about it. They hadn’t been sleeping together very long and with their past and the muddled consent of that situation he’d been very unsure. They’d had to talk about it a lot and considering their lack of talking about the more important facets of their assumed relationship, that had been interesting to say the least. After several weeks of slight avoidance and hesitant talks in safehouses and on rooftops, Tim worked out ways that he could show Jason that he consented even in his sleep.
Tim’s room always smells like chamomile and lavender and somehow the scent has pavloved Jason into being equal amounts tired and horny every time he breaks in. In Tim’s lifelong fight to be able to sleep, the scent has been doused all over his sheets since his days at Titan Tower. The scent of lavender isn’t one of his consents, just something that immediately pulls some of the tenseness out of Jason as soon as he steps foot in the room.
No, the first sign of consent is sitting innocuously on the bedside table. If you didn’t know that Tim keeps all his medicine in the fingerprint locked cabinet in his bathroom then the little purple sleeping pills wouldn’t seem out of place but they definitely are. Sitting, cap half screwed on, atop the bedside table where they keep their lube, the pills make Jason pause as he slides the windowpane back into place.
Tim is sleeping in the bed, breaths deep and even, hair mussed up from the pillow. He’s tucked on his sides, lashes pressed to sleep warm cheeks. He looks peaceful, innocent, not at all like Red Robin who Jason has seen break bones and blow up buildings, not like Timothy Drake the young CEO whose deceptively sweet voice tears people to pieces. He just looks like Tim, Jason’s Tim, the one that throws popcorn at the tv when movies make Jason’s eyes sting and stops to pet every cat he sees on the street.
They maybe haven’t had that conversation because Jason feels too much and fears Tim feels too little.
Shaking those thoughts away, Jason starts making his way over to the bed, pulling off his clothes as he goes. The room is dimly lit by the low, ambient lighting that Tim installed under the platform of the bed. The lights are on a soft, sleepy purple tonight adding to the heady feel of this whole thing.
By the time he circles the bed to his unofficial side, he’s down to just his boxers and a peek under the covers confirming Tim is nude has him losing those too. That’s the second sign of consent. Usually Tim prefers to sleep in his briefs and a big shirt or hoody, so him being completely naked isn’t the norm.
The final sign of consent Jason searches for with held breath after slipping under the covers next to his lover. Fingers sliding down the curve of Tim’s back, Jason gently presses his fingers between Tim’s glutes feeling for the familiar sturdy base of Tim’s favorite plug. It’s a heavy silicone thing, just malleable enough that it doesn’t bring him discomfort to sleep in. It’s also thick enough that Jason can slide inside easily, especially when Tim is relaxed in sleep like this.
His fingers slip across the slick base of the plug and even though he expected it Jason’s breath still catches. Tim has used a lot of lube tonight, enough that the plug makes a wet noise when Jason works it out of him, the slickness already covering his fingers. He uses that slickness to stroke over his cock, already hard from the anticipation.
When they started doing this, Jason was very much trying it because it was something Tim was interested in. Now, as he slides up behind Tim’s body, dropping the plug on the table next to the pills to be cleaned up later, he finds this is something he craves. The younger man is limp and pliant in his arms as he maneuvers him into place to give himself enough leverage to gently fuck inside. It’s addicting, the slow quietness of it, the way he can take as much time as he wants and even decide if he wants to cum or not.
Tim doesn’t want to cum. That’s part of it for him. Waking up and knowing that Jason has used him and hasn’t let him cum makes him all shivery and tingly – his words not Jason’s – and he almost always ends up turning them over and riding Jason until he can barely twitch without whining and pleading for Jason to let him cum.
The younger man is a warm, heavy weight against Jason’s front. He lets out tiny sounds with every rock of Jason’s hips but they’re mostly reactionary. The pills are Tim’s personal work of art and he won’t be waking up unless Jason puts real effort into waking him up.
Between the scent of the room, the wanting body in his arms, and Jason’s own arousal and tiredness; fucking into the other man is a bit like a fever dream. The pleasure is slow to build, starting small and circling round and round through Jason’s system as it builds into something he can’t ignore. He doesn’t give chase to the orgasm because they spend more than enough time doing this kind of thing fast and dirty that these moments where he can take his time have started to become his favorites.
Jason buries his nose in the softness of Tim’s hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. It’s coconut this month and it doesn’t exactly go with the chamomile and lavender smell but it's sweet enough that it doesn’t draw Jason out of the headspace he’s slipped into. His fingers are stroking over Tim’s skin instead of squeezing and grabbing, just memorizing every curve of lean muscle and mole speckled skin. He circles his hips, thrusts changing just enough to make Tim tighten around him and mewl into the quiet of the room and it pulls at that slow build of his orgasm.
After that, it doesn’t take long until he’s spilling inside the younger man, laying thankful kisses along Tim’s crown and throat as he comes down from the high.
He reorients them once he gets his breathing under control, shifting them both down so that he can stay comfortably inside Tim the way they both like. He fixes the cover over them before reaching up to the headboard to click the purple lights off, submerging them in darkness. Curled around the man he loves, Jason drifts off to the scents of coconut, chamomile, and lavender.