Title: Enter as you please Fandom: DCU (Comics/The New Batman Adventures: Gotham Knights crossover) Series: The key to accessorizing Pairing: Bruce/Tim Summary: It's getting to the point where Tim wants Bruce to get dressed just so his face makes sense. Rating: Adult. Content some readers may find disturbing. Notes: I made a deal with Te in which I said I'd write her ToonTim/ComicsBruce if she'd write ComicsDick/ToonBruce. Hers is My all and every day. Disclaimer: They are really not mine at all. "Hey, Bruce," Tim says as he comes downstairs. Bruce doesn't respond. He doesn't even look up from the console. Not even when Tim walks on his hands in between the monitor and the keyboard. Bruce looks very, very frowny and tense. Extreme Batman grouchiness issues. "What's the matter?" Tim says, and he flips off the keyboard onto the floor again in case Bruce is just scared he's going to hit the F1 key by mistake. But it doesn't look like a helpfile kind of problem. Bruce is staring at him and he's so blank it's like he's wearing the cowl, even though he's not. "Tim," he says. "Um, yeah? What, did one of my teachers give me a bad comment on my report card or something, 'cause I swear I'm a pleasure to have in class, it's just Mrs. Mulrooney gets PMS --" Bruce is still not making any kind of a face at all. "Bruce?" "There seems to be some kind of a dimensional problem," Bruce says. Tim winces and starts stretching. If Batman's going to be out of town for a while, he'd better limber up. "The League called?" "No." Bruce gets up. He's even moving like Batman. "This is not my dimension." "Ohshit," Tim says, and he runs for the grenades. Then stops, because if it was Justice Lord Batman, he wouldn't have said anything, because he's just as smart as normal Batman, and he's evil, and -- "oh." Tim looks at Bruce again -- and he still doesn't have any expression at all. It's getting to the point where Tim wants him to get dressed just so his face makes sense. "You are Tim Drake," Bruce says, but tentatively, like he's trying out the idea. "The one and only," Tim says, and then he realizes that that's probably a stupid thing to say to someone from another dimension. "You are nothing like the Tim Drake I know," Bruce says, and, yeah, Tim would kick himself, but he's a little too freaked to do that right now. "That's weird," Tim says, "'cause you look a lot like Bruce to me. A lot a lot. Except for you're all --" he waves a hand. "Batman." "Your Bruce is also Batman," Bruce says, and now maybe he's wondering if Tim has brain damage to go along with whatever else sets him apart from the other Tim, whoever that is. "Well yeah, but -- he takes the cowl off." Tim shrugs. "And you're -- kind of --" He gets closer again to see if maybe Bruce has different scars, damage that makes him unable to, like, smile or whatever, but nope. "You're just so blank. So -- do you ever relax?" Bruce raises an eyebrow and Tim grins at him. "Well, at least you can move." "This is not a situation I find particularly relaxing," Bruce says. "I bet not," Tim says. "But it's okay, Barbara will be here soon and we can cover the patrol for tonight --" "Barbara," Bruce says, and he's all white in the face. "Yeah. You have one of her too, right?" Bruce takes a breath so deep Tim can actually see him do it. Based on the way Batman usually acts, this probably means he's having a nervous breakdown. "The situation is somewhat different from that outlined in -- in your Batman's personnel files." "Yeah?" Tim shakes his head. "But anyway what I mean is you don't have to worry. For tonight." "It doesn't seem prudent to stay here," Bruce says. "We can handle it. Really." Tim grins at him, then flips away to go get dressed. "And tomorrow if you're still here, we can find you a suit that fits." "I'm not staying in tonight," Bruce says, and he's totally following Tim, never mind that Tim just skinned out of his civvies. It wouldn't be weird to be undressed in front of Bruce, but this isn't normal, real Bruce, this is weird not-from-around-here Bruce whose eyes are like Batman's. It's like being naked in front of Batman, and he's not even injured. Tim turns away and feels the excuse of 'adrenaline and surprise about your otherwordly-background-stuff-ness' forming on his lips, because he's hard, and Bruce is still staring at him. He can feel it. "Tim," Bruce says. "I have to get warmed up," Tim says. "Barbara will be here in like half an hour and she'll want me to spar with her and --" That is Bruce's hand on his shoulder. This Bruce. Who doesn't smile. Is touching him. "Um," Tim says. "You are nothing like my Tim," Bruce says, and he's so close Tim can feel how warm he is in the cool air of the cave. "But you're very -- familiar." "You're -- um," Tim says. "I -- look, do you ever stop being Batman?" He turns to face Bruce -- and maybe this Bruce isn't going to look at his crotch, god knows his Bruce wouldn't -- and spreads his hands. "You're all -- cold and -- you don't have to do that right now." Bruce's eyes are really, really not cold at all. They make Tim shiver because it's -- just exactly like looking at Batman would be if Batman didn't use lenses. "I'm always myself," Bruce says. "Oh," Tim hears himself say, kind of faintly and somewhere else. "I -- oh. Okay." "Is it that strange?" The strangest thing right now is that Tim really wishes he had his cape which he doesn't usually need to cover an erection -- it's not like he gets that out of control in the suit, not with the jock, and ow, just the thought should be enough to cool him off -- But Bruce's eyes are still pinning him in place. "No -- it's -- you're just -- kind of scary." Bruce doesn't smile at that, even, but his eyes shift a little bit. Maybe it's a Batman smile. It makes Tim weak in the knees. "You don't seem that cowardly," Bruce says, and he touches Tim's cheek. With that tone -- and it's not the Batman voice, but it's not a Bruce voice either -- and the way his eyes still look, smile or no smile -- he should be wearing a gauntlet. His skin is too warm. "I'm, um, really not," Tim says. "And you're not superstitious." "Um, no," Tim says, "but I really learned not to mess around with magic that time because I really never want to see Jason Blood again and I know he's your friend but --" Bruce is kissing him. It's the only thought in Tim's head and it goes over and over again, getting louder, until he gets to add, "and Bruce is picking him up" which is totally weird, except for how he seems to be coping okay by wrapping his legs around Bruce's waist. Bruce's hands on his ass really shouldn't feel as familiar as they do. He stops kissing Tim -- which means for a second there's nothing in Tim's head at all -- and then Bruce says, "Tim." "Oh god, Bruce," Tim says, and he knows he sounds really young and dumb. It's not something he can help right now. "How long do we have?" Bruce -- Batman says in his ear. It takes him a second to get over the weirdness of being asked that kind of a question -- but it's not like he should introduce this Bruce to Barbara in a really -- compromising sort of way. Barbara or no Barbara, he's not sure he can patrol without coming first unless he wants to be really, really distracted. "Probably twenty-five minutes." "Hm," Bruce says, and they're moving. It's not a way Tim's used to seeing the cave go by, but he can adjust, especially because when Bruce walks, Tim rocks against him. "I -- god, Bruce, you're gonna drive me crazy --" Bruce squeezes his ass again, and the way that feels -- is he really not wearing any gauntlets? He must have scary hand strength. "Your Bruce doesn't drive you crazy?" Tim shudders. "Not like this," he says, and Bruce -- is setting him on the car. On the damn car. It's a lot weirder and even hotter than it was in jerk-off fantasy form, especially because Bruce is peeling off Tim's underwear -- he didn't even have to think about raising his hips, they just kind of did it themselves. And Bruce's pants -- total Bruce Wayne civvies -- end up around his ankles, and -- "Jesus, Bruce," Tim says, and he can't spread fast enough or far enough. Bruce's finger burns going in and it makes Tim whimper and brace his feet against the hood and push against it, fighting for more pain, more burn, more being filled and taken. He gasps and tries to say "Bruce --" but it doesn't even come out as a word, just a groan. He doesn't sound like himself. Not his sane self, anyway. Bruce is staring at him with Batman eyes and making him shudder harder. He has to look -- completely fucked. Completely Robin, completely naked and so easy, dammit. But it's Bruce, and Tim has known Bruce's rules for years. It's not exactly the same Bruce as usual -- he always thought Bruce would say something before they had sex, if they ever had sex, or while they were having sex. And probably the Bruce he knows wouldn't want to jerk him off on the car so fast and perfect it makes Tim bang his head against the hood, because it's the car and it's not exactly -- healthy. He opens his eyes again to check, and the way Batman is staring at him makes him groan. "Oh god, Batman," and he meant to say Bruce, he did -- That's totally a Batman smile, and Bruce is jerking him faster. He says, "Robin." "Oh, please," Tim says. Batman says, "Yes," and it's not something Tim's really let himself believe he'd get, but it's perfect. Even better when he twists his fingers just right and squeezes, perfectly vicious, and says, "Come for me, Robin." There's just no way to disobey that. He absolutely has to thrust into Batman's fist and back onto his fingers and just be his toy, because Batman wants this -- needs this, from the look in his eyes that Tim can't even see anymore, but can feel all over his body like hands and fingers and he's coming so hard his toes hurt. "Fuck," Tim says when he can unclench his toes. "Oh -- fuck." Batman's on him, fast and big and kissing him -- it's almost too much like being fucked, still. Tim can't stop himself from whimpering, and he really doesn't want to. "Robin," Batman says again, and he's pinning Tim down. He's so hard it's got to hurt, even if he is Batman. Tim slides down the hood of the car -- and it's only a second later that he even thinks to be surprised that he could get away that easy, but it's not, actually, his Batman. Yet. "You --" Tim looks up at him again and Batman just looks ravenous. It's kind of terrifying to be stared at like that, like he can make it better if he just lets himself be devoured. Except for how it also makes Tim wish they had a couple of hours and a lot of lube, right here. He settles for wrapping his lips around the head of Batman's dick and licking him until  he growls, and then sucking him in. He wants to make it perfect and showy and hot. Batman's hand is on his head and that's more hot than he can even figure out how to create here. He wraps his hand around Batman's erection and lets Batman fuck his mouth. There's a voice in his head -- maybe his conscience or something -- that wants him to wonder what the hell he's doing. The voices in his head that have stuff to say about sex and hot and Batman and things that are just exactly the way they ought to be tell the conscience voice to shove it, and he sucks harder. This hurts just like being finger-fucked dry. It's not real pain on any scale Robin uses, but it's sharp-edged enough to be sex with Batman. It's hard to breathe through his nose and get enough air, and he wouldn't pull off even if he could. He can't. Not with Batman's hand in his hair, pushing him down again until he chokes and curses himself in his head because fuck, Tim, didn't you know that someday you'd have to be able to deep-throat on command for this, for him, to be what you're supposed to be? No, not for his Bruce. For Batman. He really needs to breathe soon and he never wants to breathe again if it means Batman will keep thrusting into his mouth and he can keep tasting this, feeling this, having this forever. The thought makes him groan, and he actually hears Batman gasp at that. He does it again, making the sound longer, even though it uses up air he can't afford to lose right now. Batman's fingers tighten and hold him there, exactly where he ought to be, while Batman pushes into his mouth again, again, and comes, choking Tim -- dammit, practice -- and he can't swallow that fast, not when he hasn't breathed in a minute and a half. Batman pushes him away and puts his hand under Tim's arm to tug him up into a kiss. Tim doesn't feel like he has any skin left on his lips even though he knows that's not what it really feels like to lose that skin. He wants to wrap himself around Batman and beg for more. Barbara is going to walk in any minute now and that would be -- Incredibly hot. Not necessarily a great idea. Tim squeezes Batman's shoulder and breaks the kiss off to say, "Have to get dressed." "Yes," Batman says. "Gotta find you a uniform." "Mm." Tim can walk -- and he can think about naked ugly nasty scary supervillains to make his erection go away, too. He can walk right over and get out his uniform, and Bruce's. Bruce's uniform looks really perfect on this Batman. That's probably not sane, but it's true. "Red," Batman says when Tim's dressed. "No green?" "That was more Dick's thing," Tim says. "What was my thing?" Dick asks from the stairs. *    Tim manages not to ask, "What brought that on?" until he's got his legs over Batman's shoulders and his own come all over his stomach. Batman smiles with his eyes, but not the rest of his face. "Do you have to ask, Robin?" "I --" Tim shakes his head. "It could have been different." "No." "Okay, not at all, but --" Batman touches his lips. "You're perfect." Tim laughs. "That's a good place to start." *    "Master Tim," Alfred says when he picks Tim up from school the next day, "there's a message for you underneath the floormat." "Thanks," Tim says. It says, "The real one is bad enough. Back when this blows over. - D." Alfred gives Tim a bland look in the rearview mirror. "At least one of you has managed to adjust." Tim rubs the spot on his shoulder where there are tooth-shaped bruises from his adjustment period. "Yeah." * Tim never really got as far as the falling asleep part of fantasizing about what would happen if Bruce had decided they could have sex. The narrative usually fell apart around the point where Tim came and Bruce said something too sweet, too soft. He isn't having that problem with Batman. He spends a lot of time on his knees, finding out exactly what the range of sounds he makes in the middle of sex is like. It only takes three days for Batman to actually fuck him while he's wearing the cowl, and it still seems like a really long wait. The smell makes up for it, and the way Batman is so silent -- even more silent than normal -- just makes Tim groan and whimper and beg louder. Whatever he does, whatever noises he makes -- nothing makes Batman slip like the old Bruce-fantasy did. There's no apology, no declaration of love. Not from Batman. There really doesn't need to be. Batman is Batman. Robin's Robin. If Tim ever stops being Robin, then he'll worry. Until then -- He's really not sure what the best place to fuck is. The study makes him feel all transgressive, almost as much as much as the office. He's starting to get a serious old, waxed furniture kink, which only gets worse when Batman bends him over one of the wacky avant-garde chairs in the library and it starts wobbling partway through. Nice, solid headboards make him feel all secure, even when he ends up banging his head on them while Batman sucks him off. When they do fall asleep, it's in Batman's bed. Not Bruce's, and certainly not Tim's. Alfred is coping by not mentioning anything. Barbara's coping by making fun of Tim every chance she gets, whether or not Batman is right there. She started with "Boytoy Wonder" and went downhill from there. It's kind of fun to watch the thugs try to figure out what Batgirl's talking about and then start laughing when they do, and then get their asses totally kicked. Whether or not Tim's feeling kinda sore that night. *    Because they have to get the League involved -- the portal was sort of their deal, even if it was Evil Fascist Batman who made it up -- Superman comes by. He stares at Batman. Batman stares back, and says, eventually, "You're not married." "Married!" Superman laughs. "No -- why?" Batman shakes his head. "I didn't think so." Superman raises his eyebrow at Tim. "Is he always this opaque?" "He's Batman," Tim says. "Right," Superman says. "And the portal -- um, well, we sent the schematics, and --" "Completing it will take a few days," Batman says. He puts his hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim can't make himself not shiver. Batman is going to make him pay for that, later. Probably with a lot of whimpering and begging. Superman blinks. Twice. "Robin, are you all right?" Tim smiles. "Sure, Superman." "You're --" Tim leans against Batman's hand a little. "Going with him." Superman stares at him, and then at Batman. "Was this your idea?" he asks Batman. Batman goes completely impassive, which means it's Tim's cue. "Batman -- um. Batman needs a Robin," he says, and they both stare at him. Maybe Superman doesn't know Batman well enough to know that that crinkle at the corner of his mouth means he's dying of laughter. Tim's definitely going to have to ask later. "Don't you have other people -- back -- wherever that was?" "At present, yes," Batman says, and the laughter's gone. "That doesn't make it any less true." "Ah," Superman says, and he's not getting whatever there is to get. "Well -- I -- do you need any more supplies to make the portal?" "No, but I'll let you know if I find any problems." Batman squeezes Tim's shoulder again. Superman blushes so hard it's got to be a meta power. "Um, right. I'll -- be in touch." "As you should be," Batman says. Superman shakes his head a little and gets out of the cave at superspeed. It probably doesn't mean he's far enough away that he fails to hear Batman growl when he kisses Tim, but it's polite of him to try. *    Barbara's there a lot while they're working on the portal. "I'm gonna miss you," she says when the main structure is ready, and she ruffles Tim's hair. "I'm not going forever." Tim hugs her, and not just because it means he gets to feel her breasts squish against him. "It's two-way, right?" "You think he'll let you off your leash long enough to visit?" Tim grins. "If I have to gnaw through one of his limbs to get him to do it." * Stepping through the portal should feel like something. The only differences are the subtle changes in the cave. And the not subtle ones, like the other-Tim in what Tim still thinks of as Dick's old uniform sitting at the console. "Home, sweet home," Tim says. "I should carry you across the threshold," Batman says, and -- no. Bruce says. Tim stares at him. "What the -- Batman?" Bruce is really not fluttering his eyelashes. He's just -- Bruce Wayne-stupid. Wearing a mask. Tim swallows hard and nervestrikes him. Bruce goes down just as easily as Bruce Wayne should. Tim stares around the cave -- familiar and unfamiliar -- and rubs his eyes. "What the fuck?" The other-Tim clears his throat. "Welcome to the universe. Is it your sixteenth birthday?" "What the hell?" Tim takes a deep breath. "He's fucking with me." "With both of us." Other-Tim is smiling like Batman smiles. "Well, okay," Tim says. "Good thing we outnumber him." Other-Tim nods. "I was somewhat concerned about all of this -- but it may not be an issue." Tim raises an eyebrow at him. "You thought I'd be an issue?" "Anything could be." "I guess." Tim looks at Batman, who seems to be unconscious. "Wanna spar?" Other-Tim nods. "More than -- anyone else would understand." Tim grins. "This'll work out."
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