Archive of Our Own

Tim was running through bo staff forms when he heard a motorcycle rumbling down one of the cave’s entrances. He didn’t pay it much mind, instead dismissing the noise and remaining in his almost meditative state. He liked training his mind at the same time as his body, letting himself flow from one ingrained strike to the next while he sorted through his own mental space. It was sort of nostalgic for Tim, given that this was how he’d originally learned to handle having pack bonds.

It had been completely overwhelming at first, going from being packless to the cacophony of different bonds that came with Bruce’s claim. Tim had added more of his own since then through bonding with his Young Justice team, and strengthened what he had with the Wayne/Bat packs (technically distinct entities, though mostly for legality’s sake.) But back then, Tim hadn’t taken well to so much new psychic stimulus, not when he had almost no previous experience with it. It was only through having him run familiar drills that Bruce had gotten him to calm down enough to sort out the different bond feelings and form his protective shields.

It was probably only because Tim was focusing so intently inward that he noticed the light tug of a second-hand pack bond, calling for his attention. Tim looked up.

Jason grinned at him from the other side of the mats. “You down for a spar, Timbo?” he asked, casual as could be.

Tim shouldn’t have been surprised by this. Somehow, he still was.

It had been an emergency situation, about a month ago. Jason had been hit by a new strain of fear toxin and an ivy concoction at the same time, and they were interacting badly. Jason’s only current bonds, the friendship ties that made up his outlaws pack with Artemis and Bizzarro, were in space and thus out of range. Bruce had made the tough call and given Jason a claiming bite, making him pack again, and calmed him down long enough for a safe antidote to be made.

Tim hadn’t seen it, had been out of town himself, but he'd felt the new bond that Bruce forged. At the time it had been weak for him, only about as strong as the bonds Bruce had with Clark and Diana, since they, like Jason, were only pack with one person connected to Tim. He’d heard that Bruce had actually apologized afterwards (as he should, but Bruce could be thickheaded sometimes,) but Jason had brushed him off and said he was fine keeping the bond.

Since then, Tim’s secondary bond with Jason had been slowly strengthening as he, apparently, worked his way through the rest of the pack members. First it was Alfred, and the old beta’s new bond felt much the same as his others: familial love, devotion, and caregiving. Then Barbara, offering her fondness and fellowship with a younger omega. Dick, who’d been driving Tim crazy with his agitation at being left out, was next, finally getting to affirm his big brother alpha feelings towards Jason, overbearing protectiveness and all. Damian’s bond with Jason, which had only formed a few days ago, was the only surprise. Damian saw Jason as a rival, of course, but also as family, as an omega he could count on, as a protector/teacher/caregiver. Now that Damian had presented as an alpha, Tim hadn’t expected him to see himself as Jason’s little brother. He’d certainly never looked up to Tim like that.

Jason didn't need to share bonds with everyone to be part of the pack. Tim and Damian were both publicly Wayne pack members, and they didn't have a direct bond. But the more members who were linked to eachother, the tighter knit their pack would be, and the more resilience and strength their bonds would have as a unit.

Tim just hadn't really thought that Jason would be interested in a bond with him. Not that the two of them didn't get along these days. It just hadn't occurred to him, somehow. Maybe there was still a part of him trapped in the mindset of a little boy alone in a big house, convinced that pack must be unnecessary because no one wanted him in theirs.

But Tim, as socially inept as he could be, still knew a pack challenge when he saw one. Jason was even wearing a tank top, showing off his surprisingly unmarred neck. Tim could faintly make out two sets of canines, one being Bruce's, of course, and the other likely Alfred's, given how faded they were (and that if Jason were to defer to anyone without a fight, it would be him.)

Challenges were traditionally fought between pack members of the same designation, creating a hierarchy that allowed the strongest members to lead. Their pack was far from traditional, though, with two beta patriarchs filling the typical alpha and omega roles. In a pack like theirs, a challenge fight was sort of a ritual and sort of for fun. It was a friendly competition, as well as a way to create or reaffirm a bond. Tim wasn't at all surprised that Jason had challenged Dick or Dami, or that he'd apparently won those fights. He was curious how he'd ended up biting Babs, though. They must've worked it out somehow.

Tim collapsed his staff and set it to the side. “You think you can keep up?” he said to Jason, offering a smile back and trying not to look nervous.

Tim had fought challenges with his team before, and with Steph, but not with any of the Waynes. He'd been happy to tip his throat for Bruce, Dick, and Alfred. He probably would've done it for Jason, too, if he'd asked. But apparently Jason wanted to earn it. If that was the case, Tim would oblige, and make him work.

“Bold words for such a shrimp,” Jason said, returning Tim's taunt. “You'd better be ready to back them up.”

Tim's work out clothes would be alright for this. In his t-shirt and leggings, his neck and shoulders were less exposed than Jason's, but accessible enough. He answered Jason by getting into a ready stance. 

Jason started to prowl, circling around Tim. Tim pivoted and matched him, keeping him in sight. Jason was staring intently at him, almost hungrily, and Tim had a sudden and irrational desire for scent blockers. He clamped down on his reaction instead, and scented subtly, filtering out his own workout stink and the cave damp and vehicle fumes to try and pick up on Jason. He found the man's distinctive smell, but not much else of what he was feeling. Maybe a trace of excitement, but also an out-of-place note of fear, so likely his sensing was off. A gentle prod through their proxy bond showed that Jason was mentally shielded, as well. Tim wouldn't be able to predict him that way.

Jason charged. Tim slipped the bigger man's move to grapple, but he always, always forgot just how fast Jason was, and he took a hit to the collar bone. Tim backed up, ceding ground, and Jason came right after him, aiming towards center mass with fairly straightforward strikes that Tim mostly managed to block or redirect. Finally, Tim noticed an opening, and kicked up, getting Jason in the side. Jason swore and aimed a chop at Tim's neck in retaliation, but it was telegraphed and Tim managed to duck it, getting around Jason's other side to launch another attack of his own.

Jason had size and strength on him, that was never in doubt. In speed and technique they were closer to a match, though Jason was older and a bit more experienced. The only edge Tim could scrape over him was by being clever and unpredictable, and using his size to his advantage to get under Jason's guard. It wasn't a sustainable way to fight, not when he could barely keep up and every hit and block he took wore him down faster than his opponent. Jason hit hard, even when pulling his punches in a spar.

Tim knew he was about done, and he was sure Jason could sense it, too. The next time he went for a grab, Tim was too slow to get out of the way, and Jason got him into an arm hold.

Jason yanked on Tim's shirt, exposing his primary glands, and Tim was overcome with a sudden wave of defiance. He jerked his head back, eliciting a yelp of pain, dropped, and twisted, kicking Jason's feet out from under him.

Next thing Tim knew, he was looking down at Jason, who was pinned and had blood trickling down from his nose.

“Oh shit, I'm so sorry,” Tim said, pulling away.

Jason grinned, blood on his teeth, and shook his head. “Nah, don't worry ‘bout it, you didn't even break it. Nice job,” he said, then tilted his head to the side.

For a moment, Tim could only stare. The very idea that Jason Todd would ever show him his neck in submission was surreal. It was something Tim had barely even fantasized about, it seemed so far from reality.

The both of them were breathing hard, and Tim was straddling him, and Jason smelled so good, sweat and exertion and happy and anticipatory tension, and Tim almost felt like his head was going to float away in bliss.

Tim leaned over Jason and bit down. His teeth latched over Jason's gland in a bruising grip, his fangs punctured, and their bond snapped into place.

The reason that letting someone else bite you was a position of vulnerability, something to be fought over, was because the claimant of the bond had a certain level of control over what type of connection it would be.

Jason let out a confused omegan whine, projecting distressed/overwhelmed in both his scent and their new shared mental space, and Tim realized what he'd just done.

He'd given Jason a mating bond.

Simultaneously, Tim detached from Jason's neck and slammed down his mental walls. In one smooth motion he pushed up and off of Jason, back to standing. Jason keened, a call for pack, and Tim swiftly backed a few steps away from him.

He looked so sad, laid out on the floor, bleeding sluggishly from his nose and the marks high on his shoulder, eyes glazed with the sudden onset of hormones. He called out again, and Tim, knowing that he wasn't the one Jason wanted, no matter how much it sounded like it, turned and fled.

–

Tim wanted to hide out somewhere no one would look for him, so his own places were pretty much off the table. Ironically, the first and best spot he could think of was one of Jason's safehouses that wasn't logged in the system. He hated to intrude further, but he really didn't have any other ideas. Tim disabled the security and broke in, locking up after himself.

At least Jason didn't frequent the place. His scent, though present, was stale enough to ignore.

Maybe, if Tim kept telling himself that, he'd actually be able to do it.

Tim had never had a mating bond before. Steph had suggested it, back when they were together, but Tim hadn't been ready, and they'd broken up shortly after. He'd dated since then, but never gotten to that point. A mating bond was serious; it took a long while to dissolve on its own and was even harder to purposefully break.

And now Tim had accidentally forged one with a pack member.

Everyone already knew. Both of them were well linked with the pack, at this point, and everyone would've noticed the moment the bond snapped into place.

Everyone would've felt Jason's distress right afterwards, too.

Which was good. It meant that someone would help him, would find him in the cave and make sure he wasn't alone.

But it also meant that everyone would know exactly who to blame.

What would they think? What did they already think?

It was obvious that Tim wasn’t a good omega. He didn’t have that nurturing drive, the one that made you good with kids and keep a tidy home and want to cook for people or whatever.

But he’d accepted that about himself, and he’d made himself useful in the ways that he actually could. He was good at pushing past instincts and getting work done. He was logical instead of emotional, self-sufficient instead of needy.

But now he had given into his instincts in the worst way possible. Like every knothead alpha Jason always said ought to be put down like the dogs they acted like, Tim had let desire get the best of him and mated Jason without his consent.

He hadn’t ever wanted Jason to know how he felt. Jason was the perfect omega. Maybe someone more traditional wouldn’t have been able to see that, but Tim could. Jason didn’t need to be demure and submissive to care as strongly as he did. He was the best in the pack at comforting victims, and he wanted to keep crime alley organized and safe, and every single person under his care adored him because they knew he would move heaven and earth for them. He felt everything so strongly, empathy and rage and compassion, and when he cooked he did it in huge batches and doled it out in tupperware containers to all of his friends. Tim didn’t know how anyone ever mistook Red Hood for an alpha, scent blockers or no scent blockers, when he wore his heart on his sleeve like he did.

Tim was sometimes jealous. He could admit that in his own head. He couldn’t do what Jason did, and no one would ever need or want him like they did Jason. Tim cared about people, and he helped people, but the ways that he did it were distant, impersonal. Tim couldn't make himself be vulnerable for others – it wasn't in his nature. He started foundations, and he ushered victims to shelters, and he solved cases, as many as he could as fast as he could manage.

(He knew that it wasn't enough, to make up for the way that he was. It never would be.)

And it was so much worse, wasn't it, when Tim recognized that jealousy wasn't the only sort of longing he felt when he looked at Jason. Tim couldn't commit, couldn't settle down with any of the nice alphas or even betas who'd shown interest in him before (fleeting interest, before they'd realized that he could only disappoint them.) He had to be entranced by Jason, with his powerful physique slightly softened by omegan curves. Jason was all hard, thick muscle with a layer of supportive fat, and it was honestly incredible that no one had called Tim out for staring at his pecs or thighs yet.

Tim knew that dynamic wasn't everything. He knew that people came in all sorts of varieties, and that no one really lived up to societal ideals. Yet he couldn't stop that feeling, the one deep in his bones that said that there was something wrong with him, that he could only act in ways he wasn't supposed to act and want things he wasn't supposed to want.

When he heard the sound of locks clicking, it took Tim far too long to react. It was only when the safehouse door was unlatched and pushing open that his head snapped up to stare at it.

There stood Jason. The first and last person Tim wanted to see. His heart leapt into his throat, fear and guilt warring with instinctual pleasure at the presence of his bond-mate, the pulse high in his ears that sang perfect, mine, perfect, mine.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Jason snapped.

Tim took stock. He was… sitting. Or sprawled, more like, legs askew and back leaning against the wall underneath the window he'd come in from.

The real answer was probably having a mental breakdown, but Tim wasn't going to say that. He shrugged.

He couldn't stop staring at Jason. He'd changed since their fight, into jeans and one of his thick jackets. Tim couldn't see his marks. He inhaled, wanting so badly to catch Jason's scent, but could only get the stale remnants of him in the room. He must've put on scent blockers, too.

“You're an absolute bastard, you know that?” Jason said, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him. Tim held back an upset whine and looked down. He knew. Jason walked forward and stopped right in front of Tim. “Get up,” he ordered.

Tim, with some effort, got his feet beneath him and straightened, eyes still lowered.

He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't for Jason to put his hands on his shoulders and nuzzle against the top of his head. “I'm so fucking mad at you,” Jason murmured. “How could you leave me like that?”

Tim’s breath hitched. “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice too quiet. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Fucking unfair,” Jason said. “How am I supposed to stay angry when you smell so miserable?” He sighed, the breath brushing over Tim’s scalp. “Tell me what happened, Baby Bird.”

Tears pricked at Tim’s eyes, but didn’t fall. Jason didn’t use that nickname often, and usually, when he said it, it was clearly meant to be mocking. Tim had thought of it as a welcome reprieve from Replacement – Jason could make fun of him all he wanted for being small, young, too soft. He wasn’t supposed to say it like that, warm and sweet and a little gruff. Tim couldn’t take it. “It just– it just happened. I don’t–” Tim gripped a fist into the hem of Jason’s jacket, not wanting to touch him but needing something to ground himself. “I’ve never… had one. Like this. I don’t know why…” Tim trailed off, unable to continue that lie. The why was obvious: stupidity, a lapse of judgement, hormones and infatuation.

With another sigh, Jason leaned back. “We’re having two different conversations,” he said. “Look at me.” When Tim did, Jason met his eyes and calmly dropped a bombshell on Tim’s entire emotional state. “I’m not upset about the bond. That kinda thing… I mean, it’s not exactly common, but it makes sense. I believe you, that it was an accident, or I know we woulda talked about it first.”

Talked about it? Tim’s head was spinning. What the hell was there to talk about?

“I’m pissed because– oh, right.” Jason reached up and underneath the collar of the unzipped jacket, tugging off one of his primary scent blockers.

Tim, standing so close, was suddenly awash in the smell of Jason, rich and sweet and deep, mouthwatering in a way that made it almost impossible for Tim to resist reaching up and burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. Jason always smelled good, but God, it was like someone was caramelizing sugar, letting that incredible fragrance waft into the air, and–

Oh. Jason did smell better than normal, with extra sweet and musky notes, because–

“You dumped me straight into pre-heat,” Jason explained, “and then you left. I almost went into shock. Can I get a little concern for my health and well-being, here?”

“Holy shit,” Tim said, stunned. He had sort of thought that that didn't happen in real life. Well, he knew it was a possibility, but – no, he hadn't, because he'd always assumed it only applied to alpha and omega couples.

Tim had put Jason in heat.

His legs felt so weak that he thought he might collapse again. For a very different reason.

Not the time. Not the time to think about Jason, laid back naked in a nest, chest heaving as he panted with desire–

Tim shut that down (and hoped that Jason didn't notice the scent of his arousal.) There were much more pressing matters, such as– “And then you had to come here?” he fretted. “You didn't take your bike, did you? Or– not the bus.” Not even Tim would take the bus in pre-heat. Well. Not often, at least.

“Little too much concern there, dial it back,” Jason said, sounding faintly amused. “And Alfred drove me.”

“Oh,” Tim said, feeling a sudden wash of cold. He really didn't want to have to face Alfred right now.

“He already left,” Jason assured him. “He gets that this is between you and me.”

Well, that wasn't ominous. “And you're okay?” Tim finally asked, which was what he should've done first. Heat-drop like that was no joke. Tim had experienced it before when he overdosed on one of Ivy's pollens; it was terrifying, and it had messed him up for days.

“I'm fine,” Jason said, then gave Tim a flat look. “Could've been better though, if my mate was there to take care of me.”

“Your mate?” Tim squeaked. Jason couldn't be referring to him. Tim fucked up and made the wrong type of bond with another omega, but that didn't make them actually mates, right?

“Um. Yeah. Unless you…” Jason frowned, and his hands squeezed Tim's shoulders. “Unless you don't want…?”

“I–” Tim's voice cracked. He couldn't say it. The words I want you wouldn't form in his throat. Instead, he asked, “Are you sure? I don't know if I–”

“Look,” Jason cut him off. “Can we– can we talk about that after? I need to get through this heat first.” A slight sour note entered his scent, maybe nerves, though it was nearly washed out by enticing sweetness.

“Right,” Tim said, trying his best to focus. “Do you need anything? I could go–”

“What?” Jason sputtered, his hands dropping. “You– you're leaving? Again?” Upset‐omega broke through his heat smell, making Tim itch to comfort him.

“You want me to stay?” he asked, a little bewildered.

“What? Yes!” Jason snapped. “We just became mates and I'm going into heat.”

It took a second for Jason's implication to sink in. “Oh. I mean–” Tim felt himself flushing “–it’s not like I’d be much help, though?”

Jason just stared at him for a moment. Then, he scoffed. “What, you think I can only get off on some alpha’s knot?”

Tim looked up at Jason, confused. “I mean– uh– don’t you want…”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I like being full, haven’t met an omega yet who doesn’t, not in heat. There’s lots of ways to accomplish that, Timmy– it’s why they sell heat-aide toys.”

“Yeah, but…” Tim couldn’t quite figure out how to articulate how ridiculous the idea was, that Jason would want him to be anywhere near his heat. “You don’t need me for that.”

At that, Jason actually, legitimately growled at him. “You’re serious,” he said. “You’re okay with inducing my fucking heat, but you can’t be bothered to deal with it.” Then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, that's not fair. Never mind. This was all just a big fucking mistake. You don't owe me anything.” He spun and started to stalk off, further into the apartment.

Tim caught his wrist.

Jason tugged to get away, but Tim held fast. He stepped closer, shifting his hold so that his wrist gland rubbed against the inner arm of Jason's jacket. It wasn't a proper scenting, not with clothes and a scent blocker in the way, but the intent was there.

“I'm sorry,” he said, his heart in his throat because he couldn't believe what he was saying. “I want to help you. I just have no idea what I'm doing.”

Jason, still facing away, said, “You don't have to.”

“I want to,” Tim told him.

Jason turned back to look at him. His mouth was slightly open, drawing air in to taste Tim's pheromones. Whatever he read, either in Tim's face or his scent, must've convinced him of something.

“Have you ever spent a heat with someone?” he asked. Tim opened his mouth to answer, but Jason stopped him. “I don't mean someone else's heat, it's blatantly obvious that that's a ‘no.’ I mean, has anyone helped you through yours.”

Tim shook his head, then cleared his throat. “Not, um, sexually,” he clarified, hoping that that was what Jason was asking.

Tim hadn't had anyone around for his heats since he was a newly presented omega, lonely and desperate enough to finally tell Bruce just how alone he was at home. That was when he became pack, and Bruce and Alfred scented and soothed him through all of the changes he was going through. Then he grew up, and learned to take care of himself.

Jason took a deep breath. “Okay. So,” he said, “you can't say that you're going to do this and then change your mind.

Tim tried to nod decisively, though he was sure Jason could tell just how nervous he was. “Okay.”

“I'm serious,” Jason said. The harshness drained from his tone, leaving an aching vulnerability when he added, “I– I couldn't take it.”

It brought Tim back to that moment. Jason – submissive, bleeding, dropping into a sudden heat and calling out for help and comfort. And Tim had run away.

“I won't leave you,” Tim said, pushing all the sincerity he had into the words. He meant them. He wasn't the type to break that promise.

Jason searched his eyes, then nodded.

After Jason's acceptance, it only took a moment for Tim to start to feel awkward. He looked away from Jason's intense gaze. “Okay,” he said, “Is this an alright place to have your heat?”

Jason shrugged. He tugged himself out of the grip that Tim had almost forgotten about. “It'll do.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch. Tim desperately needed to stop thinking about the casual motion, how effortless and smooth it made him look, or noticing the way his arm muscles filled the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Jason walked into the kitchenette, saying, “I keep non-perishables and electrolyte drinks in all of my safe-houses, so even if we end up stuck for a few days, we'll be fine.”

Tim followed. “How long are your usual heats?” he asked.

“‘Bout three days,” Jason said. “You never know with induced heats, though.”

Tim nodded. “Right.”

Jason opened the pantry and retrieved a pack of orange Powerade. Tim grimaced.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Artificial orange is the worst,” Tim complained.

Jason huffed. “Well aren't we picky,” he mocked. “Red?”

“You mean fruit punch? Better,” Tim agreed.

Jason hauled out both. As he stepped back, Tim ducked past him and scanned the shelves. He found and snatched protein bars, regular granola bars, jerky, and a box of shortbread cookies.

Jason looked at his haul and offered him a small smirk. “This way,” he said, heading off towards one of the two doors in the small apartment. A bathroom and a bedroom, presumably.

Tim's heart sped up.

Tim got the impression that the bedroom was sparsely furnished, but honestly, he barely noticed. The bed was a queen. It had six pillows on it, so an omega could surround themself and feel comfortable. It was practically halfway to a nest already. Tim could just imagine curling up there and smelling Jason on the sheets.

Jason knocked the pillows off the bed. Tim jumped where he was frozen in the doorway. Jason stripped the rest of the covers, then said, “Come help me with this.” He snapped out a sheet, one with a waterproof layer to protect the mattress.

Tim finally entered the room to obey. He dropped off the snacks on top of a dresser and helped Jason smooth out and tuck in the new sheet as the base for a heat nest.

A heat nest. With Jason. Tim was really doing this.

He looked at Jason, who had started digging through the closet to pull out extra blankets. The muscles under his shirt moved, his back articulating his shoulders articulating his arms in a hypnotizing display. He bent over, and there were his ass and thighs, straining the jeans he wore.

Tim suddenly remembered that he was still in his workout clothes. Jason must have showered before he put on scent blockers, but Tim was covered in sweat and grime and leftover despair stink.

“I have to–” Tim blurted out “–I mean, can I go shower?”

Jason's head snapped up to look at him. Then, he seemed to purposefully relax. “Sure,” he said. “Leave your clothes outside of the bathroom, I'll find something for you to wear.”

Tim hastily agreed and fled.

He stripped quickly in the bathroom, then made sure to fold his clothes neatly, because he didn't want Jason to think he was a slob. He felt so awkward slipping them outside of the door while naked.

Tim avoided looking in the mirror, because he couldn't afford to get stuck catastrophizing. He already knew he was too skinny for an omega – he didn't need to examine it in high definition.

The shower spray helped clear his head, which was good in some ways and a nightmare in others. 

On the one hand, what the fuck was he doing? He had absolutely no idea what Jason even expected of him. He was going to fuck this up, badly.

On the other hand, while he did feel guilty about putting Jason in this position, holy shit. Jason, in heat. He felt a throb between his legs at the thought.

Shamefully rubbing one out in the shower would probably not be a good start to the proceedings. Or should he, to take the edge off? What if it went so poorly that he never got to–?

Tim turned the water a little colder and tried to ignore those thoughts.

Jason had bat-grade scent neutralizer in the shower, of course. Tim started to reach for it, and then hesitated. Would Jason want to smell him? 

Jason had asked for him to stay. If he wanted Tim in his nest, that probably meant that he wanted his scent, too, even if it was just for pack comfort. The neutralizer could linger, suppressing odors. Tim went for the regular soap instead.

As he was washing up, a knock came at the door. It cracked open, and Jason said, “Leaving these here,” then ducked back out before Tim could even say thanks.

All too soon, he was as clean as he was going to get. Taking another minute to calm down was a fool's errand, because Tim wasn't going to get calm. He turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

The clothes Jason had left for him consisted of a pair of drawstring sweats that were a little too large and didn't smell of anything in particular, and a shirt that Tim was swimming in that smelled like Jason. It was clean, it'd just been washed with normal, non-scent cancelling detergent. There wasn't any underwear.

Tim felt completely indecent once he had them on. It was ridiculous, because it was maybe the least sexy outfit ever constructed, but the front of the sweats brushing his dick made him jolt, and the shirt was its own conundrum. Had Jason put Tim in his scent on purpose, or was he reading into things?

Without really thinking about it, Tim lifted one of his shoulders and rubbed it against his cheek and neck, sinking his own scent into the shirt's fabric. Then he pulled the collar up to his face and inhaled deeply, smelling the mixture of Jason and himself.

Tim needed to get a grip. He spent a few moments breathing, trying to ignore the smells and just focus on counting his inhales and exhales. Finally, he decided he was done stalling and made his way out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom.

“Hey, I’m–” Tim started to greet, and then stopped in his tracks.

There were a few more layers of blanket on the bed, and the pillows, but they were strewn about haphazardly. In the center of the lumpy almost-nest was Jason, wearing only his t-shirt and boxers, curled up on his side with his face buried in a small bundle of fabric.

As soon as Tim opened the door, Jason shot up to a sitting position, quickly tucking the fabric in among the blankets as if Tim wouldn’t notice it. As he did, its smell wafted to Tim, and he realized what it must’ve been: his own dirty workout shirt.

“Oh, hey there Timmers,” Jason said. He pushed his hair out of his face, and Tim saw he was flushed. “I didn’t hear you coming. Sorry I, uh,” he looked around himself at the unfinished nest, “I got distracted.”

Tim scented the air, and, just as he suspected, found that Jason’s heat scent was even stronger than before. He was right on the cusp, if Tim was guessing right.

There was also a strong odor of omega arousal and slick.

Tim swallowed. He suddenly wished he had jerked off in the shower. It was a little embarrassing, how reactive he was. At least the sweatpants were baggy, but that wouldn’t help for long.

“Hey,” he said again, voice low. “Is it okay if I come over there to help?”

Jason’s head snapped to Tim’s direction, and he looked at him with wide eyes. “Yes,” he said, not much air behind the word.

“Okay,” Tim said. Trying not to lose his nerve, he stepped closer. Jason watched him intently.

Tim got to the foot of the bed and reached out, laying a hand on one of the blankets. He was so close to Jason, to his intoxicating smell and warmth, to his bulk, obviously so much larger than Tim even reclining among soft things, to the erection tenting damp boxers. “Roll over. That way,” he told Jason, tilting his head to gesture.

Jason’s breath caught, but he did what Tim asked. Tim tried not to watch him move, tried not to think about Jason on his front, displaying himself.

Instead, he tugged at the blanket, smoothing it out where Jason had been laying on it. He moved a couple of pillows, then said, “Okay, you can come back over here.” Jason did so, and Tim firmly tucked the bedding in around him, trying to get his nest as comfortable as possible.

Jason started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Tim asked, confused. He kept working all the while, fussing with the structure of the nest. His own nests were usually fairly haphazard, and admittedly not all that plush. He was the only one who ever used or saw them, so it didn’t really matter. But now, he wanted Jason’s to be perfect.

Jason shook his head and said, “Nothing.” He watched Tim work, and when one section of the bedding was completed, he ran a hand over it. “You’re being so sweet to me, is all,” he added, smiling slyly. “Who knew that if I had another omega around, I’d get to be so lazy?”

Tim shot him a skeptical look, and Jason just grinned back and nestled deeper into the cushions surrounding him. A moment later, a rough purr rumbled from his chest.

Tim had never heard Jason purr before. It sounded like an old, stuttering motor, and it made Tim’s chest feel tight with something nameless and overwhelming. He redoubled his efforts, knowing that he needed to get everything just right.

Tim had circled the bed twice when his attention was suddenly and mercilessly redirected from within. It was a billboard, a siren, a warm, soothing campfire. He looked up at Jason, shocked.

Neither of them had intentionally pulled on their bond before now. Tim hadn't imagined it would be so much.

Jason looked amused. He said, “You're ridiculous. The nest is fine. Would you get in it already?”

The most unique thing about a mate bond was that it was private. Unlike every other bond connection, it didn't add to the resonating emotional sphere of the pack. It was supposed to be like a sectioned off mental space, or on a different radio frequency from the others, something like that. It was meant to allow for a different kind of intimacy. Tim experimented with it, keeping up his usual shields but attempting to reach out, only to Jason.

Jason allowed it, meeting him partway, their minds brushing gently. Tim didn't delve deeply, just sensed what Jason projected to him. Fondness, pleasure, impatience, DESIRE.

Tim gasped and broke the connection, isolating his mental interior. He was still reeling when he felt a hand rest atop his forearm.

He met Jason's eyes. The other omega asked, “Are you coming in?”

Tim put first his right knee, then his left, on top of the mattress. He let Jason tug him forward, crawling over the lip of the nest.

The bed already wasn't huge, and the nest was smaller. Tim ended up hovering above where Jason reclined, bracketing him with his arms and legs. Jason's face was right below his own. His smell permeated everything, thick and heady.

Tim unintentionally broke eye contact, glancing down to Jason's lips. He asked, “Can I–?”

“Yes,” Jason answered, sounding exasperated.

Tim leaned down and kissed him.

Kissing was the one area where Tim had a great deal of practical experience, and he put it to good use. Jason followed his lead easily, opening up to him. A thrill went down Tim's spine at the first brush of their tongues, and Jason moaned when Tim sucked on his bottom lip.

Hands slid up Tim’s sides and around his lower back, pulling his body down onto Jason’s. Even through their clothes, Jason was searingly hot beneath him. Tim started to get dizzy with the contact – they were chest to chest, and Tim could feel him breathing.

Tim had been working himself up with just the thought of Jason like this, warm and needy and eager for him, even though Jason could have anyone he wanted. The real thing was overwhelming in the best way possible. Tim was resting up on his forearms and elbows while the rest of him was plastered to Jason’s body, feeling how strong and solid and soft he was. His body and his scent were both so inviting – intoxicating, even. Tim bucked his hips into Jason, chasing warmth and sensation. 

Jason broke their kiss and hissed in through his teeth. “Sorry,” he said, while still seeming thoroughly distracted. “I– um–”

“What happened?” Tim asked, horrified. “Did I hurt you? Are you injured?” He started trying to roll off of Jason, as gently as he could manage.

Jason’s hands locked around his waist, stopping him. He said, “Hey,” and waited until Tim’s attention was back on his face before continuing. “This is going to sound weird,” he warned, “but I don’t really like having my dick touched during my heats. It gets really… sensitive.” He grimaced. “Bad sensitive.”

“Oh,” Tim said. “Right, sure.” He nodded. “I can– I can keep that in mind.”

He was negotiating sex with Jason. Tim was about to have sex, heat sex, in real life, with Jason. Tim wondered how sensitive Jason’s cock was outside of his heats, though he had no idea if he would ever be in a position to find out. Sure, Jason had called him his mate, but it seemed far more likely that this was a heat arrangement that would dissolve when it was over.

Jason was looking at Tim, gaze flicking up and down his body. Then he was back to Tim’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth tilted up. He lifted his head and shoulders to meet Tim for another kiss, this one much slower, and almost sweet, even given how filthy it was. He used one arm to brace himself against the mattress while the other slid beneath the shirt Tim wore to run along his spine.

Jason went to pull himself back, and Tim chased him to press one more peck to his lips before he was able to let him. 

“So, with that settled,” Jason said, and smirked, “how do you want to do this?”

Tim had already been lacking in the rational thoughts department, and at those words, his mind went entirely blank. Just pure void in there. Even if he had had an idea of what he wanted, the thought of voicing something like that was mortifying beyond belief. “It’s your heat, you should pick,” he finally said, weakly. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“Oh, are you a gentleman, Timtam?” Jason mocked, and his smile spread into a grin. “Hows about we put that to the test?” With no warning, Tim was flipped onto his back, and Jason reversed their poses, lying over him. His weight pushed Tim down into the nest. He leaned forward, but instead of continuing their kiss, he put his mouth right next to Tim’s ear, and asked in a low, husky voice that made Tim shiver, “How do you want me? I already feel so empty, sweetheart–” Tim's breath caught “–I’ll be crazy with it in a minute. Do you want to use your fingers? Your tongue? I’m wet as hell just from smelling you in my nest – you could fuck your cock right into me, if you wanted. Or I’ve got all sorts of toys we can play with.” As he spoke, he trailed fingers along Tim’s side and chest, lightly brushing across sensitive spots that were seldom touched kindly. “Go on, pick,” he said.

“I– I–” Tim stammered. Jason's lips closed gently over the shell of his ear, tongue flicking between them to just barely wet it, and the touch sent sparks straight to Tim's dick. “Jason,” he whined, unable to process anything else. He tucked his face down, ending up right in Jason's scent gland, and oh god, oh fuck, that was a terrible idea. It was the side he'd already bitten, slightly swollen, marked by Tim, pushing out waves and waves of pheromones activated by the bond. Tim's mouth watered with the impulse to lick and bite and suck, but he couldn't, he couldn't. He whined again and let his hips jerk up into Jason, desperate for him.

Jason hummed, and slid one of those magnificent thighs between Tim's legs. It pressed up hard against Tim's cunt and the underside of his cock. Tim rutted against it, and the pressure and friction were good, so good, but not close to enough.

“Do you want me, baby?” Jason asked, still low. Tim had never been more embarrassed in his life. Of course he did. Did Jason want him to say it? “I need you to say how you want me, so I can be good for you.” What the actual fuck? Where was he getting lines like that? How did he make them sound natural? Why were they working so fucking well?

Tim's mouth was still watering, and he knew what he wanted, what he craved in that moment, but he also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was going to make a fool of himself. Here was Jason, smooth, clearly experienced, in control even as his heat was starting, and then there was Tim, awkward and bony with no idea what he was doing.

Jason keened, right next to Tim's ear, surprising him with the high pitched sound after the rumble of his voice. The noise was plaintive and distinct, an omegan call of need that made alphas flock to them, a pretty sound that meant come fuck me, please. He leaned back, and Tim wasn't fast enough to grab at him, hold him close. Jason wasn't leaving, though, just changing his angle so that he could grind his cunt down against Tim's leg.

Tim wanted that cunt. He wanted to see it, touch it, taste it. It was maddening to have it rubbed up against him, so close to what he wanted and yet so far.

“I– I want–” Jason's gaze snapped to him, expectant, and his hips stopped moving. Waiting. Tim swallowed. “Can I–” Tim finally put his hands on Jason, gripping around his waist. He said, “Let me eat you out.”

“Yes, God, please,” Jason answered. He sat up all the way, shifting so that he was resting on his knees but still straddling Tim's leg. He quickly stripped off his shirt. Tim barely had time to appreciate the tantalizing roundness of his pecs before he was fingering at the elastic of his boxers, and Tim's attention zeroed in there.

It seemed like Jason was considering something. Then he reached behind him and grabbed a pillow out of the nest wall.

It very nearly ruined the mood for Tim, which he wouldn't have thought possible. He huffed at Jason, offended. Jason just laughed. “I'm gonna make this easy, okay?” he said. “Now c'mon, get up.”

Tim obediently sat up, and Jason shoved him out of the way and took his previous spot. He inhaled deeply, an expression of bliss crossing over his face, and then situated the pillow under his ass. He pulled his knees up, planted his feet, and looked at Tim. “Am I taking these off, or are you?” He asked, again resting his fingers at the top of his underwear.

Tim took a deep breath and said, ”Let me.” He shuffled to kneel between Jason's open legs, his own feet hanging off the mattress where the pillow had previously been.

“I'm clean, by the way,” Jason said. “You?”

Tim took a second to answer. “Yeah, yeah, I'm clean,” he said. He actually had done a test, despite how unnecessary it may have seemed, to make sure he never picked anything up inadvertently. Superheroing was weird.

“Nice,” Jason said. He smiled brightly, almost incongruous with his earlier seductive tone, and Tim was nearly mesmerized by the way scars stretched across a grin he knew so well. “Go for it, then,” he said.

Go for it. Yeah, sure. Tim would do that. Jesus Christ.

He stalled, just looking up Jason's body – his thick, muscular legs, the slight pouch of his stomach, soft but unable to hide the definition of his abs, his pretty chest, perfect swells that Tim wanted to sink his teeth into, his jaw, his cheeks, his hair, his eyes. He was perfect. Could Tim really do this?

Tim steeled his nerves and went for it.

He leaned forward between Jason's legs and tucked his fingers beneath the elastic of the boxers. Jason obligingly lifted his hips, muscles flexing distractingly. Tim pulled them down, and heard Jason's relieved sigh when his cock bobbed out of the fabric. It was omega short, but proportionate to Jason, and looked hefty. Beneath it were his wet folds, and Tim tried not to even look, not yet. He determinedly continued his task, leaning back as he pulled so that Jason could put his legs together and let the underwear slip all the way off.

Jason got back into his pose the moment the fabric was gone, and Tim dropped it somewhere, because he completely forgot about it the moment he had Jason ready and willing in front of him. Tim was going to get to touch him.

He got his shoulders under Jason's knees, but quickly realized that between the both of them, they were too tall to make this position comfortable. “One second,” he said.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

Tim grabbed Jason's hips and scooted backwards, dragging him along. He went until his legs were entirely off the mattress, his feet braced against the floor while his torso folded over and placed him exactly where he wanted to be. The bottom side of the nest was totally ruined, but that was a problem for future Tim.

Jason was laughing again. “Oh, Mr. Drake, I didn't know you would manhandle me like this,” he teased. “Whatever is a delicate omega to do with such an aggressive suitor after his maiden fl–” He cut off with a gasp when Tim licked a stripe up his pussy, spreading his folds with his tongue.

The slick was musky and bitter, but it was so suffused with Jason's heat scent that it was almost sweet. He licked at it with long, firm strokes, nearly up to the base of Jason's cock. Jason was so soft here, so wet and eager and pretty, Tim couldn't get enough. 

“Fuck,” Jason breathed, and Tim worried for a moment, before he said, “that's right, just go to town. Shit.” His thighs tightened around Tim's head, then released. He reached down and stroked over Tim's hair. Tim thought he might want to pull it, and was trying to decide if he was interested in that or not, but Jason moved the hand to his own dick and pushed it up against his stomach, out of the way. “Use your lips, too,” he instructed. “Like a deep kiss.”

Tim was ridiculously relieved to have some direction. He did what Jason asked, placing his mouth over his sex and working his jaw, sucking lightly. His lips slid through Jason's wetness, and Tim knew it was getting all over his face and didn't particularly care.

“Inside?” Jason asked, voice higher, almost a beg. Tim obliged, focusing on Jason's hole and pressing his tongue within. He rutted against the corner of the mattress, feeling painfully hard and wanting, though wanting of what, he didn't know, because there was nothing else he'd rather be doing.

“Oh, that's so good,” Tim barely heard Jason say over his blood roaring in his ears. “Feels so good, you're doing great, baby. More?”

It was a little awkward, but Tim got an arm up next to himself and pushed a finger inside Jason. There wasn't much reaction until he pumped it in and out, which made Jason's hips jerk. He licked around it, pushing his tongue against Jason's entrance.

“That's it,” Jason said, and then, “More.”

Tim added another finger, fucking it into Jason, who was tensing and shifting, trying to keep still for Tim. His inner walls pulsed around Tim's fingers, like they wanted him deeper.

“Fuck,” Jason swore. “I– I need– can you just fuck me?”

Tim's mouth broke off from Jason's cunt and he gasped for air like he'd been running a marathon instead of eating pussy. His fingers were still inside Jason, and he crooked them up against the spot he liked on himself. It made Jason jerk and swear again.

“I need more, in me,” he said, also short of breath. “I want to– to feel you inside. I need–” he cut off with a whine. The heat was clearly getting to him, leaving him more instinctual.

His instincts were not going to be happy with what Tim had to offer.

But Jason pushed at Tim with one of his legs, and Tim obligingly backed up, letting his fingers slip free. Jason gave a displeased grunt when they did, and his legs pressed together, clenching. After a moment, he moved again, rolling over on the spot and getting his knees under him so he could lift his ass up in the air in presentation.

His chest and the right side of his face laid on the mattress, his arms were lightly crossed above his head, and he made that call again, an omega's plea for attention and sex.

Tim was not strong enough to do anything but scramble to answer that call. He stood and shucked his pants, not allowing himself to dwell.

This view of Jason was so different. Enticing in an entirely new way. There was tension in his cheeks and legs, and between that and Tim's ministrations, his hole was spread open, already flushed darker by stimulation and blood flow.

Tim's bare thighs were slippery with his own slick, an ache deep in his belly matching the strain of his hard cock. He did want this, as much as he was scared of disappointing Jason.

For a moment, Tim stayed where he was and splayed his hands over Jason's ass, squeezing his cheeks and pulling them apart. He sunk a thumb into that waiting cunt, watching Jason flex as he swallowed it up inside himself. It barely looked like a stretch around Tim’s thickest digit. He was warm and slick inside, not incredibly tight but holding Tim’s finger in him so nicely. Tim pulled at his thumb, watching in hungry fascination when he got Jason’s pussy to gape to one side of it. He swore that he saw the heavy dick that hung between Jason’s legs twitch.

“Timmy, baby,” Jason said, voice sardonically sweet even with his lack of breath, “that doesn’t feel like cock.”

Tim cleared his throat, but still felt like he squeaked when he asked, “Condoms?”

“Top drawer,” Jason answered. Tim had to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him to find the bedside table that Jason meant. It was so far away. Tim felt a whine building in his throat and swallowed it down, knowing that he was being completely ridiculous.

Tim must’ve stalled for too long, because he felt a hesitant, questioning tug through their bond, still disarming in its intensity. He took a deep breath and pulled his shield open, just a crack, letting his own conflicting emotions trickle out.

What he got back from Jason morphed from trepidation to amusement, and the bigger omega let out a huff. “You don’t need a condom,” he pointed out. “You can’t knock me up.”

Tim’s hands squeezed tighter, absentmindedly kneading into Jason’s ass. He was right, of course, and they’d already talked about infections. But Tim had had it drilled into him that when you had sex, you used a condom (those were some conversations with Bruce and Dick that he could never un-have,) and he needed to feel like he was doing this right.

Tim felt, clear as day, the mental equivalent of an eye roll. “I’ll get it,” Jason announced, and pushed up onto all fours.

Tim didn’t want Jason to leave, either. He impulsively leaned forward, moving his thumb out of the way and licking back into Jason’s waiting cunt. He felt Jason jolt at the contact, but also felt the zing of arousal and pleasure that came from Jason’s side of the bond in the same moment.

Tim wasn’t really one for reading fiction. It always felt like he could be doing something more valuable with his time (detective stories being a rare exception.) But he was familiar enough with the romance genre to know how it was always described when a mated pair consummated a relationship. The alpha would sink into the omega (it was always an alpha and omega) and their bond would sing between them, unbelievable ecstasy in the simultaneous bliss of penetration and being penetrated. In the more artsy pieces, they became as one, one person and one body moving in harmony.

Tim had always thought that it sounded sort of silly. It was certainly an exaggeration. But the feedback of Jason’s reaction to his touch was unbelievably intoxicating, and Tim felt like he sort of got it. If sex with a partner was better than masturbation because of the degree of separation, then maybe sex through a mating bond was one degree farther – even more unexpected and so even more pleasurable.

“Glad you’re–” Jason gasped “–ha– having fun.” He was shifting, and Tim could just see over the top of his ass that he was reaching past the lip of the nest and into the drawer he’d mentioned. He grabbed a box and gave it a cursory glance before tossing it behind him, just out of Tim’s reach.

Tim climbed back up onto the bed, grabbing the box and pulling out one of the omega sized condoms. “I definitely am,” he agreed, too honest. Jason’s enormous shirt went all the way down to Tim’s thighs, and he thought that he might look stupid lifting it up to fuck into Jason (what would he do, drape it over Jason's ass to make a little fuck tent?) so he pulled it up and over his head. There was another spike of arousal through their bond, and Tim looked up in surprise. Jason was still up on his hands, and Tim met his eyes where he was looking over his shoulder at him.

“Keep going,” Jason urged. Tim obeyed, getting the condom on himself and finally kneeling behind Jason, positioned for what came next.

Tim usually liked to keep his bonds closed, but he found it useful, in this case, not to have to speak. His question and Jason's answer were simple, wordless affirmations, letting Tim know that Jason was ready and that he himself was as ready as he could be. He pressed forward, not even needing to direct himself with his cock so hard and straining and Jason so open. He caught on Jason's hole and pressed in.

It was more than he could've imagined. No amount of feeling out the inside of that cunt had prepared him for what it would be like to have it clenching around his cock, furnace-hot and so easy to slide into, so welcoming and slick. He barely noticed when he bottomed out, just ground up into Jason's ass, wishing he could get even further, closer, wanting Jason inside of him, too. He could almost feel it, that phantom sensation of his own dick inside Jason through the bond, but both of them were holding back from fully sinking into the connection, not quite ready to completely lose themselves in eachother, just both holding tightly to the thin thread they'd passed through their shields. All it did was make Tim crave it more, wet and empty inside.

Jason watched Tim pant, eyes glittering with intent as he craned his neck to look. “C'mon, sweetheart,” he taunted, “is that all? Fuck me.”

Tim did, snapping his hips, feeling the impact in his neglected cunt as he pushed himself to give Jason everything he needed.

Jason grunted with each thrust, voicing pleased little encouragements, good, there, harder. His arms seemed to buckle when he arched, spine bending and lifting his bottom higher with his chest back down on the mattress, changing the angle. His face was practically buried in the nest, like he didn't care where it ended up, too focused on what Tim was doing to him.

Tim kept up his pace, chasing that fire, that echoing tension held taut between them that was so close to snapping in release. “Jason,” he gasped, not sure why.

In response, Jason let out a low, rumbling purr.

Tim flopped over Jason as he came, shuddering while the two of them slumped down onto the mattress, still joined and legs tangling together. Jason's rusty purr was going strong, vibrating his back under Tim's cheek. Tim regained some faculties and nuzzled into Jason's shoulder blade, spreading his scent over him.

Then something started to bother Tim. After a moment, he realized that Jason had closed off his end of their bond. “Jay?” he asked hesitantly.

Jason hummed, the sound mingling with his purr and coming out distorted by the vibrations.

Tim thought back, trying to sort through the moment and figure out what had been him and what had come from the other side. A possibility struck him, uncomfortable and shameful. He made himself speak, only slightly mollified by the feel and smell of Jason's skin against the side of his face. “Did you not…?”

Jason hummed again. He shifted, prompting Tim to get off of him. Tim did so, though both of them let out simultaneous whines when he pulled out. Tim sat up and busied himself with disposing of the condom. Jason rolled over and God, his face, blissed out and almost glazed over, flushed and perfect, just a hint of a smile to his lips. But, just as Tim had feared, his cock was as hard as ever, and his hips squirmed in what looked like discomfort as he settled himself.

Tim started to say, “I'm sorry–”

He was cut off by a chiding chuff, and Jason held out an arm towards Tim, beckoning him. Tim laid down with him, half sprawled over his broad, vibrating chest, and let Jason draw him into a kiss, setting an unhurried pace, just reveling in the simple pleasure of mouths moving against eachother.

“You're cute,” Jason murmured against his lips. “Don't worry so much. ‘S not a race. You're doing good.” He trailed fingers down Tim's naked back and to his ass. “Making me feel good.” He squeezed, and Tim shivered at the feel of his huge, hot hand.

Tim wasn't sure if he should bring it up, but he needed to know. “And this?” he asked, tapping at the bite on Jason's neck to indicate their closed off bond.

“Just a lot,” Jason answered, knowing what he meant. “Getting used to it.” Tim was nodding his understanding when Jason groaned, his purr stuttering to a halt while he shifted beneath him. His teeth gritted when he said, “Need– need you to put something in me.”

Tim immediately shuffled his way down Jason's body. Jason spread his legs and Tim kneeled between them, sliding two fingers into him as soon as he was able. He slowly rocked them, letting Jason get used to the feeling.

“More,” Jason demanded, staring down at him, and Tim pulled out for a moment so he could add another. It surprised him when all three went in easily, up to the knuckle. He stretched them out, and found that he could slightly scissor them apart from eachother. Jason's flesh moulded around them with wet sounds.

Jason breathed deeply, and his knees raised on either side of Tim, muscles in his legs and feet flexing.

The pinky was harder. Tim had to twist his fingers awkwardly around eachother to spear them into Jason's cunt. He held them tense and as straight as he could, his hand starting to cramp, but it worked, all four fingers making their way inside. He quickly hit resistance, this new configuration of his hand much wider than before, but when he pushed, fucking in and out very slightly, he found he could keep going. A muscle in one of Jason's legs visibly spasmed, jumping and twitching, and Tim smoothed it over with his other hand before focusing back on the incredible visual of Jason stretching so wide around his fingers.

Experimentally, he tucked the tip of his thumb in among the others. It was tight, so tight, but he managed it.

Tim heard Jason let out a plaintive whine, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. He looked up to see that Jason was no longer watching, instead pressing his head back into his pillows, his throat bared and tense. “Are you–” Tim started to ask, but was interrupted by another high sound.

“Please,” Jason panted. “I need it, please, please, it's so close, you have to, Tim, Tim–”

Tim's mouth had gone completely dry. He returned to his press inwards, slowly adding a bit of pressure. In just a moment, he was up to the first knuckle of his thumb. Jason went wordless and taut, his vocalization, closer to a croon than Tim had noticed before, somehow going even higher. Tim kept gently pushing, and as he watched Jason arched, spine pushing up and up while his head rolled on the pillows, almost thrashing. Tim barely noticed when he reached the base of his thumb, the widest point of his hand right there at Jason's entrance. Jason gasped as he came, spilling over Tim's arm, at the same moment that Tim seemed to pass a threshold and suddenly found himself inside of Jason up to the wrist. He was pretty sure that if he hadn't already come himself, that would've done it. He kissed one of Jason's raised knees, spontaneous and stupid, overflowing with feeling.

“Can you–” Jason asked, still breathing heavily, “Can you make a fist?”

Tim obliged, curling his fingers together, and Jason let out a long sigh that rumbled with a satisfied purr at the end.

“Oh, that's so good, babe,” he said.

Tim meant to say something, he thought, but all that came out was a lilting omega call.

Jason understood his question anyway. “Yeah,” he said, his head still back but no longer tense, just sinking down into the nest. “Perfect. Best knot I've ever taken.”

Tim had absolutely no idea how to identify the sound he made in response to that.

Jason finally looked down at him, smiling. “Oh, you like that, yeah?”

Tim, feeling himself burning up, turned his face into Jason's knee to hide.

“You really like that,” Jason said, his tone almost thoughtful under the purr. “You're not– I mean–” Tim peeked at him, and Jason shook his head. “Never mind. Later.” Jason's leg moved out from under him and hooked around Tim, heel pressing into his back. He reached his arms out, making little grabbing motions with his hands. “C'mere, I want you.”

I want you. Tim couldn't move far without straining his arm, but that wasn't a summons that he could refuse. He leaned forward, and Jason touched his shoulders briefly before pulling his arms back and propping himself up on his elbows, meeting Tim in a kiss. Then he used his legs as leverage to topple the two of them, pushing both of them onto their sides so they could curl around eachother. It made the inside of his cunt pulse and tighten in very interesting ways.

Jason's huge frame surrounded him, finally sated and rumbling contentedly. Tim, despite the awkwardness of his own position, drifted off to sleep.

–

Tim's arm and wrist were miserably sore when he woke. Jason was irritated and uncomfortable too, because bony fingers didn't soften and slip out like a knot was supposed to. When Tim retrieved his hand it was wrinkled as hell and he knew that no amount of odor neutralizer was going to remove the smell of sex.

He really couldn't be happier.

Throughout the three days of Jason's heat, the two of them had plenty of time, both to experiment (they made good use of the toys Jason had mentioned) and to talk.

“You like it when I talk about your knot,” Jason said. He was tapping his fingers against Tim's hip. “Is that just a sex thing, or is there a gender thing I should know about?”

Tim took a moment to really consider it. They were trying an open bond at the time, so Jason felt him deliberating and easily gave him the time he needed to think.

“I think… I think there is a gender thing there, but not in the way you mean. It's–” Tim cut his eyes up to meet Jason's and then away. “Sometimes I feel like a bad omega, you know? So it's… it's just nice, I guess. When you say I can fuck you as well as any alpha could.”

That made Jason roll him over and kiss him senseless.

Another time, when they were taking a break to snack on the food from their stash, Jason said, apropos of nothing, “I think you should issue a challenge to Damian.”

Tim shot him a disbelieving look.

“I'm serious,” Jason told him, gesturing with a piece of jerky, “The kid likes you. He wants a bond with you. He just feels like he can't ask.”

“What, is he shy?” Tim raised his eyebrows. “The only thing the brat ever does is insult me.”

“Look,” Jason leaned forwards. “He's an alpha now, and you're an omega. That colors your history. He's been violent to you in the past, so asking to bite you would make him feel like an aggressor. You challenge him, you put yourself back on equal footing.”

Tim searched his face. Jason looked serious. “I'll think about it,” he allowed.

Once, when Jason was reaching for him, whining for more, Tim pushed him off. “You have to give me a minute,” he said. Jason was not to be deterred, pawing at his hips, and Tim ran him off by snapping and rumbling at him, the only language he'd respond to in that state. 

Tim sighed. “I'm still getting used to this,” he chided, not expecting a response. “This has been a very intense first time.”

Jason frowned, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. He made a questioning little whine that transitioned into the slightly garbled words, “First time?” as he fought through his heat haze.

“I told you that,” Tim reminded him.

“You– you said first heat,” Jason argued. “First time, first time?”

“Yeah.”

“You were a virgin!?” he cried, suddenly very lucid.

Tim blushed. “I mean, sort of? I've done some fooling around before, but it was all, you know, clothes on.”

Jason buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “If I put the vibe in you, will you calm down?”

The answer was yes.

Jason waited until his heat was almost over to roll towards Tim and say, “You like me. Like, actually like me.”

His tone was matter fact, but Tim still nodded in response. “Yeah, I do,” he said.

“Then why did you freak out so badly about the mating bond?” Jason asked. He was so cute, with the way his thick eyebrows scrunched together in concern and confusion. 

Still, Tim sat up and shot him a look, aghast that he didn't understand this. “Because doing that without your consent was messed up? I didn't even know if you were queer!”

Jason's own expression was just as incredulous. “Okay, sure, consent issues, I guess, even though I doubt the bond would've taken if I wasn't already into you.” He gave Tim zero time to process that statement before continuing. “But seriously? You didn't know I was queer? I thought I was as obvious as humanly possible. What did I do to make you think I was straight, and how do I stop doing it?”

Tim had to stand his ground on that one. He argued, “You can't make assumptions about people based on their presentation–”

“Timmy. Timtam,” Jason interrupted. “I might actually be Gotham's butchest omega. And you thought I was, what, trawling bars looking to get knotted by alpha girls?” His voice took on a mocking falsetto, “Oh, ma'am, I'm just a sweet little omega, I need a big strong alpha to take care of me–”

Tim grumbled, “You're Gotham's most pampered pillow princess.”

Jason grinned. “Fuck yes I am. Now get over here and show me why.” And he pulled Tim on top of him for another round.