__marcelo (__marcelo) wrote,

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fic: The way I wield you

Babs/Tim porn! (more or less)

The way I wield you

Summary: The Mission always comes first for Oracle and Robin.

Rating: NC17.

Continuity notes: Set after War Games. I assume that Oracle still works now and then with Robin.

Spoilers: None

Thanks to: brown_betty for the original bunny. marici and sageness not only betaed the hell out of this fic, but went through the trouble of teaching me stuff along the way. I'm awfully thankful to the three of them.

Feedback: Prettyplease! This is my first porn fic - I expect it to have lots of things to improve.

Tim's knuckles are almost as white as the marble sink he's holding to, and Barbara can see the same tightly repressed anxiety reflected in every muscle of his naked chest.

She'd been afraid this was going to happen.

"Robin," she says through the subdermal comm behind his ear, "I'm going to cancel this op."

Tim's eyes whip up to the camera behind the bathroom mirror, so his eyes in the monitor look right at hers.

"I can *do* this," he subvocalizes.

Barbara wants to sigh, but doesn't. Tim's grim determination has gotten him through a lot, but it's not going to help him with this.

"No, you can't. This plan was unsound to begin with, and you're in no condition to go through with it."

Robin scowls at the mirror, then closes his eyes and begins a relaxation sequence.

"We don't have much choice," he says, repeating what they both know. "She's the only daughter of Don Paolo Ansatti so dating her is the fastest way to infiltrate his operations."

"Tim, " Barbara says softly. "Do you really want to lose your virginity like this?"

He stops his meditation and opens his eyes with a grimace. "I can no longer keep the relationship with Patricia platonic, Oracle. If I don't do this, we lose our best shot at the Ansattis."

It's a declaration of the question's irrelevance, not an answer. What Tim wants for himself is unimportant next to the needs of the Mission.

Barbara doubts that the girl's beauty has made things much easier for Tim. He's about to go back into the hotel penthouse suite, and even stark naked he looks more ready to fight a dozen armed assassins than have sex.

"Tim, wait. Robin." He halts, one hand in the doorknob. "I'll walk you through it."

Tim turns his head back to the bathroom mirror, his eyes noticeably wider.

"Repeat that, Oracle?"

Barbara clears her throat. She's getting as nervous as the kid, but if he's going to do this, he shouldn't have to do it alone.

Tim shakes his head. As far as Barbara can tell, he seems more surprised than outraged by the idea. The surprise, at least, is an improvement over the stoic determination of a minute ago.

"I don't need to be even *more* disturbed."

"Trust me, I can help."

"You've done this before? Wait, don't tell me, I think this is the worst possible moment for more information."

Barbara lets herself smirk, knowing that it'll show in her voice.

"Actually, kid, it'd be a good idea for you to picture some situation or person you find arousing. Maybe --" nothing to remind him of Steph "-- Dinah?" Barbara smiles predatorily, wetting her lips (all for effect, she reminds herself). "I could *tell* you things about Dinah."

Tim smiles at the camera and raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Just walking me through it will be fine, Oracle."

She "hmms" deliberately, loud enough for Tim to hear. The wording, given the situation, is... ambiguous.

"Time to engage, Tim."

Tim leaves the bathroom. Oracle switches her monitor to a camera on a corner of the room. It shows the Ansatti family's heiress waiting impatiently on the bed as Tim walks toward her. As young as Tim and unarguably beautiful, she has far more experience in these matters than he.

"Don't walk so fast, Tim. Stop there. Good. Now take a long look at her, starting from her legs. No, not so analytically. Imagine you're looking at the Batmobile."

Tim's smirk is surprised, honest, and exactly what Barbara was aiming for.

Barbara tries to see him as the girl does. To an untrained eye, he must seem just a mildly good-looking, moderately athletic normal teenager. Nothing at all like the visceral attractiveness of Dick, or even Bruce's dark appeal. Tim looks... nice.

Barbara smiles at the monitors. There's nothing nice about the ruthless way in which he constantly uses himself to feed other people's hungers. She can see the girl's growing awareness of it in her sharpening smile as Tim stands naked in front of the bed, more an ease than any teenager should be. Barbara has seen that triumphant greed in her own mirror more than once. It suddenly feels reasonable to speculate on what it would take to convince Robin to work for her on a more regular basis.

Hunger. She can work with that.

Ansatti smiles enticingly and makes a come-hither gesture to Tim. He doesn't move until Barbara tells him to.

It might just be a good operative's habits, thinks Barbara. And certainly the increasing relaxation in Tim's manner could be attributed to the girl's obvious enthusiasm in the proceedings. The explanation is... plausible enough for the moment.

She tells Tim where and when to touch. "Caress that nerve cluster. Good, keep the pattern, now kiss her right above the throat's lower pressure point." The technical vocabulary of violence is as precise and rich as they need it to be. The image on the monitor comes from an inconvenient angle, showing mostly Tim, but Barbara needs very little information to follow the process. Almost enough comes from the scratches the girl is making on his back, and more from the way in which Tim is telegraphing his actions with his whole body.

Smart boy. *Practical* boy. She tells him so for no reason she wants to acknowledge to herself. Tim's shudder might just be due to the girl's hand cupping his ass.

Barbara wonders if the girl is aware of how little she has needed to touch Tim to arouse him, or if she's too lost in her pleasure to notice. Tim's eyes are closed, his respiration shakily controlled, and Barbara deliberately doesn't think about who he might be picturing in his mind.

When Tim finally enters Ansatti, Barbara is whispering the precise tempo in his ear, guiding his moans against the girl's throat, giving him short, clinical progress reports.

Possibly, it's just coincidence that he comes when Barbara tells him to.

Tags: babs, babs fic, fic, tim, tim fic
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