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The club lights flashed, spinning reds, blues, and greens in Tim’s eyes. It was a dizzying effect, one that left him stunned if he looked at them too long.
He shook his head, and forced his head down. He was already fighting to stay upright in heels he wasn’t used to walking in, he didn’t need to make it harder on himself.
Stubbornly, he kept walking forward and ignored the eyes scanning down his body.
And there was a lot of it put out to see. The tight, mesh top left nothing to the imagination, and the tiny shorts he had shoved himself into were exposing half his ass. He knew he had a body that men lusted over, and now was time to actually use it.
It didn’t matter that Tim wanted nothing more than to dive into a bulky sweatshirt and hide all his skin.
He was supposed to be sexy. Alluring. A temptress.
The only way to sell this was to look confident, despite how much he wanted to cross his arms over his chest.
Hopefully, it would just be one night. One night, and he would get the info he wanted and then not have to be seen here again. He could go back to nights in the Manor, swallowed in blankets and far away from all the grabbing hands.
Grabbing hands that were getting way too bold around him as he leaned down to pick up drinks and put them on a tray.
There was a thwap and a smack to his ass. He yelped, skittering away from a group of men that all laughed at Tim.
“Come on, honey,” one of them leered as Tim stared at them. “I got a seat right here that needs someone to warm it up.”
He patted his lap and the obvious bulge in his pants.
“I…I…”
“Sebastian!” One of the managers shouted the fake name Tim had given them. “Get over here. You’re needed somewhere else.”
Thank god.
Tim whipped around and practically ran from the group that shouted about “the view” as he left. Embarrassment and anger raced through him but he kept it all down and hidden away.
He came up to the manager and let out a sigh. “Thanks, Doug.”
The man was huge and probably could rival Bruce with sheer bulk. “No problem. I saw them getting a little handsy when you didn’t want them to.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked Tim up and down again. “Are you sure you’ve done this before? You still seem a little green.”
Tim was here undercover, supposedly taking the place of a man who had to call in sick. It hadn’t taken Tim much to orchestrate the whole situation, only a couple of forged emails, a small bribe, and a quick interview. Places like this weren’t big on regulations anyways, so they didn’t ask many questions when Tim showed up dressed to look as fuckable as possible.
“Of course, I have,” Tim snapped, probably too quickly because the man raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I mean, yeah, I have. It’s just that tonight isn’t my night.”
Doug gave him a small and real smile.
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you but room three is asking for a stripper.”
Oh, that was him, he was the stripper.
Tim raised his head in the direction of the room. It took him a second to realise that this was perfect.
He had seen his target go in there early that night.
All he needed to do was to keep them happy so they would keep talking while Tim was in the room.
Excitement flashed through Tim and he held back a smile. Yes, this was perfect. All he had to do was go in there and listen and… be a stripper.
Ice flashed through him instantly.
That was the part he was dreading. That was the part of the plan that he stubbornly tried not to think about when he committed himself to this rouse.
But it was for the mission.
He knew he was good-looking. That his slight, slim body was what clubs wanted to hire. It would be stupid and selfish not to acknowledge that and use it to his advantage.
But Tim’s skin still crawled at the thought.
This was all for the mission and would make Bruce proud. He had to hold on to that.
“Sure thing,” Tim agreed, toddling towards room three. He could feel Doug’s eyes on his back and tried to make his gait as smooth as possible.
Just a couple more hours and this would be over.
He took a deep breath and entered the room, purposefully swaying his hips. The room erupted with jeers and Tim’s panic caught in his lungs. He forced himself not to look around, not to see how grossly outnumbered he was by men who thought of him as a toy.
Keep them happy. Keep them talking.
That’s what he had to focus on.
He locked eyes with the closest man, prowled forward, hips swinging with each step.
He was a tall man. Stocky and square-jawed with a nose that looked like it had been broken before. He spoke with the same Crime Alley cadence that Jason had.
“You’re the stripper?”
Tim winked, leaning down. He didn’t have cleavage to show, but the man still seemed eager to see his nipples through his thin shirt.
“Yes,” Tim purred, making his voice breathy. “I’m here to give you a good time.”
He swayed his hips, very aware that there was a whole group of men staring at his ass. He tried not to let how much it made his skin crawl show.
“Would you like a good time?” he whispered, trying to sound sultry but it just sounded whiny in his own ear.
Was this right? Was this was they wanted?
What did they do in the movies?
He must have done something right because the man nodded eagerly and suddenly he was being pulled in by the wrist.
His mind scrambled as he slid himself onto a lap, trying frantically to follow what he had seen in movie scenes.
He rolled his hips and instantly hated the movement, but the man purred under him. “Fuck yes,” the man said into Tim’s neck and suddenly there was a tongue.
A tongue sliding up his throat and over his sensitive skin.
His heart stopped in his chest and he swallowed down a yelp.
No. Not now, Timothy. He could take this.
“Are you eager for me, slut?” The man said into Tim’s ear.
No. No, he was not, but he had to do this. He ground his hips down, and the man groaned under him and…
Something jutted against Tim’s thigh.
Nausea rolled through him instantly and he tried to shift away but two large hands suddenly wrapped around his waist and kept him firmly planted there. Dull nails bit through his shirt and pressed into his side.
Panic filled his head as he realised he was caged.
He had to go.
He wanted those hands off.
He has to leave.
“No, baby, give me what I paid for.”
Tim’s skin was burning where the man touched and he tried to mask his struggles as dance moves, but he needed to get away. He didn’t want to be on this lap anymore.
Finally, finally, the grip loosened as the man moaned and Tim slipped away and back into the center of the room.
Eyes were on him from all sides and panic caught in his chest. His heartbeat was a roar in his ear as a dozen other men trailed their eyes over his skin.
“Little slut!” one of them called.
“Give us another!” said someone else and Tim couldn’t take being in the middle of the room. He stumbled back.
One step, then another and… the back of his legs hit against someone’s knees.
Tim turned, bracing himself to be put in another lap and…
Fuck.
A familiar red helmet was glaring right at him.
“Come on, kitten, give him some love.”
Tim gulped, not sure whether Jason would want him any closer.
He couldn’t tell the emotions behind that red hood, but he knew it wasn’t anything good.
The choice was made for him when someone shoved into the small of his back and he collapsed into Jason’s lap.
Behind him, the group whooped madly and Tim couldn’t help a little flinch into Jason.
Jason’s hand fell onto his hips and they tightened on the exposed jut of bones there. He was keeping Tim close and pressed up against him like someone might come to rip him away.
“This is what you ordered for me?” Jason asked the men beyond them, his voice tight through the helmet.
“Yeah and a private room. We heard what you did to Robin and thought you’d like another pretty young bird to fuck up.”
They all laughed like wolves and it sent a shiver running down Tim’s spine. Suddenly, he was grateful to be on Jason’s lap and not another stranger. He leaned into his brother, putting as much distance between him and all the other men.
“Did that boy scream?” One of them leered, his teeth flashing.
Images flashed in Tim’s head.
Jason standing over him. Smiling with Tim’s blood splattered across his face.
Why don’t we break one of those pretty wings, Replacement?
Bones breaking. Tim’s screams. The caustic burn of the Lazarus Pit staring into him through Jason.
“Did you make him beg?”
Tim had begged.
It was the begging that saved his life and drew Jason out of the Pit induced rage.
Shhh, it’s okay, baby bird. I got you. I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I got you. I promise.
Tim’s head snapped towards Jason, and, not for the first time, he wished he could see under that faceless mask.
Which Jason was this? The angry fury born from a pit or the gentle balm that came after?
Was he angry with him? The tenseness of his shoulders told him that Jason was furious about something and Tim doubted having “the Replacement” on his lap was helping Jason’s self-control.
He half expected Jason to just shove him away, and let these men jump on him like wild dogs. It would be easy and technically wouldn’t be breaking the “No hurting Robins” rule.
Jason’s fingers dug into Tim’s skin, not painfully but almost possessive, and Tim waited to be thrown onto the ground.
But it never came.
“Thanks,” Jason ground out, his voice tight with anger. “I’m going to take my prize in that private room now.”
He tensed under Tim, and it was the only warning he got before, Jason was standing.
And taking Tim with him.
He yelped as Jason’s hands slid under Tim’s ass and lifted. His arms scrambled, instinctively locking behind Jason’s neck, and legs wrapped around his waist. Jason held him in a sort-of reverse piggyback that he had seen in romance movies.
But thankfully, Jason didn’t start making out with him, or doing anything vaguely romantic. He just held Tim, and kept him far away from any of the other men.
Tim tensed as Jason rocked under him and began moving out of the room.
The men wolf-whistled and smirked at Tim. He stared at them over Jason’s shoulder before he couldn’t take it anymore and tucked his head into Jason’s neck to avoid their gazes.
“Go get it, Hood!”
“Make him beg like that broken little bird!”
Tim shuddered and Jason’s hands on him tightened. But he was silent as he left the room and took Tim with him.
The club lights blared over him, putting bright coloured patches over his and Jason’s skins.
Anyone else would have looked at them and seen two lovers, chest to chest and locked in passion, but they couldn’t be further than that. Tim was tense and anxious in Jason’s arms, not sure where he was going to be taken to. Jason was an angry wall against him, and Tim had no idea what was going through his head.
He… he couldn’t possibly be taking Tim to hurt him right?
They were past that right?
Tim thought so but… was he sure? Sure enough to bet his life into it?
Jason shifted Tim’s in his arms, and shoved a door to a private room open.
A shiver passed through Tim’s spine and he braced himself as Jason let him down onto the floor.
Jason took a deep breath in, locked the door, and took his helmet off.
His face was a storm cloud.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Replacement?” Jason growled and it sent ice through Tim’s veins. Maybe if Tim had been dressed as Robin with a cape and a full shirt, and pants he would have been able to hide the shudder.
But dressed in tiny shorts and a see-through shirt with the feeling of wandering hands fresh on his mind, he couldn’t mask the instinctive flinch back.
Jason wasn’t the other man. He wasn’t the man that had licked over Tim’s throat or scraped nails into the small of his back. He wasn’t going to touch Tim like that.
The Red Hood didn’t allow anyone to touch kids like that.
A traitorous part of Tim’s mind didn’t let himself believe that, though.
The Red Hood had also said that he didn’t hurt kids, either.
And Tim had already proved himself to be the exception.
Yeah, Jason might have reached an agreement with the family now, but that didn’t mean that Tim was within his good graces.
“I’m trying to gather information,” Tim crossed his arms over his chest, hiding what he could of his visible skin. “Bruce told me it was my mission for the night.”
“Bruce told you to go undercover at a strip club?” Jason said with complete disbelief.
“Well… not exactly, but he told me we needed to scope the area. He even helped me make sure that Dick was covering my territory.”
Jason raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly like Tim was dumb. “Dick knows you’re here. In a strip club. Pretending to strip.”
Tim looked to the side, unable to keep Jason’s gaze. “I mean… I don’t know if I mentioned the details of my plan specifically.”
Jason’s face went completely flat. “I’m guessing you forgot to mention the part where you needed to look straight out of a porno.”
Tim gulped, embarrassment beginning to settle like a rock in his stomach. “I might have taken some liberties with the details.”
Jason stared at him, a mix of fury, exasperation and annoyance all flickering across his features. Tim braced himself. He waited for the fury and the screaming or maybe even the hitting to teach him a lesson.
Jason growled, his hand reached out and…
Ruffled his hair?
“You’re so stupid,” Jason said with exasperated annoyance. “And you have the self-preservation skills of a wet paper bag.”
He brushed past Tim, going to pick up his helmet again. “But I remember what it was like to be a Robin that was always trying to prove himself.”
He plopped the helmet back on his head and turned to look at Tim. The blank white eyes of the Hood seemed to stare straight into his soul. “I hope you know how stupid this was because this was hella stupid. What if some guy tried to make a move? What if some tried to cop a feel? What if someone tried to follow you home?”
Jason sounded… like he was worrying? Like he cared about Tim’s safety?
Jason shrugged his jacket off, and silently offered it out.
“Once Dick hears about this… oh boy are you in for the lecture of a century. Dickie is going to lose his friggin big bird head.”
Tim silently took the jacket and hugged it to his chest. It smelled like sweat and the exact same shampoo Alfred bought. He took a second before he shoved it on.
“You’re telling Dick?”
“Of course, I’m telling Dick. Right after we get you into some real clothes.” Jason grunted as he began to go towards the door. Tim was still in the middle of the room.
“Wait? You’re taking me home?”
“Well, I’m taking you to one of my apartments, but it’s home enough.”
Tim stared at him, not quite believing the words that Jason was saying. Tim thought Jason still hated him… he would have never expected this much kindness.
Slowly, Tim stumbled forward, still unsure on his heels.
Jason snorted something about a ‘newborn deer’ and stepped forward.
Tim was scooped up for the second time that night and still yelped when his feet left the ground. It was the same as the first carry, a sort of reverse piggyback ride that pressed their chests together, though thankfully Jason’s hand went under his thighs instead of under his ass this time.
“Jason!” He hissed, arms latched back around Jason’s neck as the man laughed. Tim could feel the sound in his own chest.
“You’re going to break an ankle if you keep tripping over these things.”
… He wasn’t wrong, but Tim still didn’t appreciate getting carted around.
He sighed, already knowing he was losing the battle to what he expected was a developing overprotective brother, and hooked his head over Jason’s shoulder.
This actually felt a lot different than when Jason first held him and was putting on a show for the criminals.
It was kinder and more protective, like when Bruce carried Damian to bed and the boy fell asleep on their dad’s shoulder.
He could almost physically feel that Jason cared.
Tentatively, Tim relaxed, ever so slightly curling in towards the man.
“You okay, baby bird?” Jason asked softly, and suddenly the discomfort that Tim had been keeping bottled up cracked.
He hated being here and doing this. He hated what he was wearing and how it drew eyes. He hated feeling like prey before predators and an object to them.
He just wanted to sink into Jason and let his brother take him away.
“I want to leave now,” he said, his voice choking on the words. His fingers clenched into the well-worn fabric of Jason’s shirt. It was the same brand Dick wore, both of them had probably been gifted by Alfred. Tim had the same exact one in a smaller size tucked into his drawers at the Manor.
Something about that same fact made him feel just a little bit safer in Jason’s hold.
He tucked his head against Jason’s neck and sighed into his skin.
One of Jason’s arms came up, settling between his shoulder blades, and clutched him protectively closer.
“Of course, Tim. Let’s get you out of here.”