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Interference	By : aranel Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 2810 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Interference
- 1
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own any recognizable characters within this work of fiction. They are the sole property of DC and I am just borrowing them for a bit of fun.
Pairing: Dick/Tim

Rain. It would be rain. And not just any rain. A nice, ragging storm. The perfect reflection of his mood. Not that he’s in any particularly receptive state, to consider that. No, he has far more on his mind, than the weather. Far more than the way his heart and lungs are burning the inside of his chest.

He’s flying. Soaring from rooftop to rooftop. Searching.

He’d use a communicator, but he hasn’t thought of that. The need is too great. Besides, Bruce will track him down twice as fast if he does. And there’s a reason he’s ripped up half his uniform. Although he knows he hasn’t found them all. He figures he’s at least given himself a head start. Or Bruce has.

He’s looking, and not seeing. Misses two car jackers. A mugger. Petty thieves setting off the alarm of a nearby jewelry store. Simple, easy targets. Two hits, maybe three. Six guns in all three crimes, and he could have at least taken them. Tied them up, tossed the weapons aside. But he’s blind tonight. This isn’t his city anymore. And if they caught a good look, he’s pretty sure he’d have at least three rounds aimed at his chest. In an effort to put him out of his misery.

He’ll be guilty about it later.

He’s sure he’s gotten this far because on some level, Bruce still understands. He’s giving him some time, or maybe he’s too busy. But sooner or later, he’ll show up. And Tim can’t wait and lose his chance.

Tracking had been the easy part. Whatever was happening that he wasn’t being informed about, he knew at the very least, Bruce still knew every angle. Knew that he knew Bruce was keeping watch. Knew that he didn’t care anymore. Maybe they could help one another.

He lands heavily on the aluminum roof. Heavier than he’d expected. But his vision’s blurred badly now, and it was either that, or crash into the side of the building. He’s still got his stealth, but tonight, it’s flawed.

He knows he’s been taken note of, and doesn’t bother with shadows. Crosses the roof, and moves around the smokestack. Dick is there, watching. He knows he’s been identified, but knows it’s not something terribly important. Not to him anyway.

“Robin?” he asks, watching Tim pad out of the stack's shadow. His brow draws tight, when he sees his uniform. He doesn’t move. Asks instead, “Are you all right?”

The concern in his voice makes Tim’s chest ache. There’s three feet between them, and Tim takes it in two well placed leaps. The last vestiges of energy in his body gone. Dick catches him, as he crumples into him, arms locking unto Dick’s forearms.

“Robin,” he says again, with more concern, and a bit sterner. Dick scares easily when it comes to his family. He’s terrified of losing people. This is one Bat trait they all seem to share, at the deepest levels. Dick is only slightly less adept at hiding it than him.

“Are you all right?” he whispers, as Tim presses into him.

He doesn’t realize he’s been shaking until Dick hugs him tight. Tim knows he’s scanning the shadows. Knows he’ll check him for wounds in a minute, when he feels it’s safe to move again. Tim doesn’t care, he can’t move any more.

Dick pulls him close, and after a moment, there’s the familiar pull of descent, followed by a steady swing to new, higher - hopefully safer - ground. When they’ve reached it, Dick helps him down. Tim’s legs are wobbly, and he slides unto the surface via gravity. It’s a moment, perhaps two – he knows Dick’s still looking, still making damn sure it’s safe – before Nightwing’s ducked down between his spread legs.

He feels like a ragdoll, as Dick looks him over. Checks for wounds. Checks his pulse. Checks other places, and sighs. Hmm. Tim hadn’t known about that tracer on his back. Well, at least he hadn’t deluded himself in the first place.

“Robin?” And softer. “Tim.”

He shakes his head. Now that he’s found him, he just wants to curl up and forget. He doesn’t know what he wants particularly, other than to be away. And the best away Tim knows, is Dick. Bruce won’t be so quick to follow. Dick’s grown tall and strong. Most of all, opinionated. He’s Tim’s buffer. And while Tim’s feelings have changed – swaying impossibly back and forth – over the past few years, he’s never felt more in need of his protection before.

More overwhelmed to have him near.

“I fucked up,” he mumbles.

Dick leans in close, water pouring over them both, not that Tim can feel it. He instead watches. Watches the way the water moves over Dick. And even now, there’s something about the way he looks…Tim hurts even more.

Moaning, he turns his head, chest hitching. “I fucked up really bad, Dick,” he says. As if for dramatic aide, lightening crackles behind him, a large boom of thunder all too close.

“Come on,” says Dick, helping him up. “Let’s get you dry.”

Tim knows he should help. Not force Dick to support all his weight. He’s still injured, and even though he’s been worse, it’s no excuse. Tim knows this. And yet, something deep down is keeping him inert.

Dick doesn’t seem to mind.

“Where have you been?” Tim finds himself asking, as Dick moves them across the rooftop, and somehow he’s managing to stumble a bit, so Dick isn’t forced to carry him. Even if…somewhere, deep inside…that’s exactly what he wants.

“Around,” Dick replies.

They teeter as Dick missteps. His leg’s still in a brace. It’s not strong enough. But he doesn’t complain. Tim presses against him anyway, and Dick’s fast enough to move with it. He ends up back against the exterior wall of an encased stairwell. Tim only leans into him more.

He’s not sure why, but crawling into Dick seems like the best idea ever right now. Hiding inside him.

“You haven’t…We haven’t talked in weeks,” Tim says, voice rough with too many feelings all at once.

“I’ve been…busy,” Dick hedges.

Tim feels like he wants to scream, but instead, starts to cry. Presses against Dick hard. Trying to suffocate on him, curl up inside him. Before he can even finish feeling the cry, he’s sobbing, and Dick is holding him tight.

“Shhh…” he says, and strokes Tim’s hair. “Shhh…”

Tim realizes he’s bordering on hysterical, but can’t seem to care, or even find a way to hinder it. He clings to Dick, and the water that’s pouring off of them both unites somewhere, gliding down their middles and pooling ‘round their feet.

Dick smoothes a hand down his back, and just below his neck, tugs something hard. Tim – even this emotional – identifies the snap of a small wire. Now Bruce won’t be able to hear them. Not through Robin anyway. Tim’s pretty sure Dick knows his own suit well enough, as he doesn’t bother to check it.

He lifts Tim’s chin, looking down at him, and removes the protective lenses in his mask.

Whatever it is, Tim feels something snap, and even before its finished breaking, his lips are against Dick’s, and they’re kissing. Tim doesn’t bother trying to process, and instead shoves up against him. Dick can’t move any farther back, and so their bodies rub against one another. It probably looks better than it feels. (Their suits are crafted to take quite a few hits, after all.) Still, it feels fucking wonderful.

Dick rubs his back, as their mouths battle. And it is a battle. And as usual, Tim has to put all his effort into it.

He’s smaller than Dick, and nowhere near as flexible - he’s moaning at the thought before he even finishes it – but he’s still pretty damn good at keeping his body moving the way he wants. Right now, what he wants is a perfect sawing motion.

Dick groans as Tim unabashedly humps his thigh, and brings him closer. Tim feels more focused now. He can picture his moves before he makes them. Bracing his foot, he pulls himself up, and throws his head back with a groan at the first grind. They both have reinforced, steel polymer cups. But while he can’t feel Dick, he knows Dick can feel himself. And that’s enough.

He’s hard inside his suit, and the limited room makes each thrust hurt, but it feels so good. Dick moves to attack his neck, and Tim doesn’t bother deflecting. Instead he moans, and pushes harder against him. The rain chokes him each time he gasps, but it’s refreshing, and has long since washed away his tears.

He hopes Dick will leave a bruise, wishes he’ll leave a bruise, wants him to leave a bruise. But they both know he won’t, so Tim consoles himself by tugging off his gauntlets and losing his hands in Dick’s dark hair. His lenses are still up, so he can see into the sky above, as the storm rages on. His cape whips around in the wind, and it feels less real with his eyes open. So he sets the release, and closes his eyes against the raindrops that rush him.

Dick bites against his neck, right above his reinforced collar, and Tim tugs at his hair. He pushes harder against him, and Dick responds in kind. Tim imagines sparks between them, where the metal meets harshly, and wonders if any color will rub off. Moans at the thought of racing the night with a crotch stained by Dick’s suit. The thought of Dick having a nice red claim, that stretches with his agile body as he kicks some thug’s teeth in.

His utility belt is probably giving Dick a bruise, and it’s impeding the tight clutch of their bodies, so he undoes the clasp and vaguely hears the splash of it hitting the roof. That’s much better. His body fits right up against Dick’s, and if they were wearing less, Tim could probably better feel the heat.

Dick’s always been passionate. That much Tim knows. He’s watched Dick dance around partners before. Watched the way they stared after him longingly once Dick decided further involvement would be risking too much of himself. He’s watched him patrol, and watched him in action, and absorbed the very essence of the man who had made Tim’s vigilante life possible. (Sure it was with Bruce’s permission. But what position could Tim have vied for, if there were no Robin to begin with?) But, most importantly, Tim has watched him train. Has trained under him. And suddenly a shiver runs down his back. Hard and all encompassing. He’s realized where he wants to be most is not inside of Dick. But beneath him.

The thought alone is enough to finish him off, and he bites down over Dick’s kevlar covered shoulder as he comes. Moans as Dick shoves against him a few more times, rides out his orgasm. And then Dick tosses his head back, and gasps, hips spasmodic.

Tim watches the orgasm overtake him, and wonders whether Dick always looks this unguarded when he comes. It’s beautiful. And he’d like to think Dick looks this way only for him. Even if this is a first, he knows he’s going to see that face again. He just has to be patient. Or persistent. Perhaps a bit of both.

A big splash accompanies their fall. Dick’s leg has given out, and Tim’s too busy sagging into him. The cold water doesn’t affect them, and Tim is sure then, he’ll have more time with him.

Dick’s breathing no harder than when he engages a few future convicts. Tim’s surprised to see that reflected in himself. But Dick’s eyes are softer than before, and he meets Tim’s, his gaze comforting on so many levels. They share a kiss, soft and lingering. Tim decides he’ll count this as their first ‘real’ kiss, and leave it at that.

The rapidly cooling liquid in his cup will be uncomfortable eventually, but Tim chooses not to feel that now. Instead, snuggling close. Dick reaches for Robin’s utility belt and plops it closer to them – just in case. Tim thinks he’ll have to try harder the next time. Dick’s still far too coherent.

They stay together, just holding one another up for a long while. Somewhere, someone is getting mugged. Somewhere a car is being boosted. Tim figures the city owes them these moments. Besides, the cops are getting lazy. And regular crimes can be handled by them. Should be.

For now, he’s content to stay where he is.

Unless, of course, Dick wants to take this night farther. He’s pretty sure he has the energy to play a bit of tag. As long as he’s guaranteed compensation for getting caught.

He smiles to himself. He may just have to initiate that. Dick hums softly, head back against the wall, and hand petting long strokes down Tim’s back. Mmm. Maybe later.
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Interference