Chapter Text
The first time was an accident.
It was a nice spring day in Gotham and nothing had been happening, quite frankly. The rouges gallery had been quiet—concernedly so, Tim couldn't help but think—and it had been relatively calm. That's what tends to happen when Bruce has to leave for Justice League duties off world surprisingly enough , Tim couldn't help but think.
So, Tim was walking around the manor. He hadn't been seeking out anything, to be completely honest. Tim had been minding his own business, nose stuck in some report papers when he came across Dick, Roy, and Jason in a rather….precarious position. Hell, Tim had heard them before he saw them; a groan and a stumble echoing out through the study hall door gave them away before Tim could even see them.
Even though, at the time, Tim thought someone had broken in to the manor. Which was another thing in its entirety, to be completely honest, but Tim digresses.
He made his way over there to check things out. And he couldn't have been shocked when they were there on the couch in the study: Dick had been sandwiched in between Roy and Jason, buttons on his dress shirt popped open and halfway off his shoulders. They'd been pressed in as close as they possibly could be; Jason and Roy were attacking his neck with kisses that looked hard enough to bruise and all Tim could do was stare.
Jason and Roy had both been stripping Dick of his clothes, layer by layer in a maddeningly slow pace if the impatient look on Dick's face had anything to say about the matter.
Dick Grayson had been squirming under their touch, squirming as their hands roamed up and down his body. Tim can see them and their relentless pursuit of all of Dick's clothing, teasing and taunting him as
"Please," Dick begs, "Jayce, Roy—" And if that begging wasn't the hottest thing Tim could have ever seen; that fact was accentuated by the shiver down Tim's spine and the sudden half-chub he could feel himself sporting as he leaned in slightly to get a better look.
I'd do it, Tim thinks because it's the truth. He thought about multiple times but kept it squished down inside of him. Tim had always known he sported a bit of a crush on Dick. It seemed like everyone in and out of Gotham had a crush on Dick Grayson at one point and who could blame them, really?
Dick Grayson - he was superhero royalty at this point; every single person, alien, and other intermingling species on the planet wanted him in some strange capacity. He was just that magnetic and captivating. And, well, Tim Drake was just a man—a simply down bad man with a functional frontal lobe, a functional pair of eyes and proximity to a man so hot that his imagination ran rampant. He would be stupid to think he would be immune to that.
Now, Dick Grayson is needy and wanting and Tim thinks about—if he were in there—he could have been his hero, but shakes off the thought; he goes back to focusing on what was happening in front of him as silently as he possibly could be. At this point, Jason and Roy had been all but ignoring Dick, who'd been sandwiched in the center of the both of them, opting instead to make out over his shoulder. They'd been kissing each other languidly, like they had all the time in the world. Being ignored was probably driving Grayson insane, Tim can't help but think and he'd be proven right.
"Guys, come on," Dick says—no, whines, because that's how impatient and needy Dick got in the fifteen minutes of not getting any attention. Tim can see Dick push back into Jason ever so slightly before rutting up into Roy, lips slightly parted with want. But they still did whatever they wanted, leaving Dick to squirm even more.
It was cruel. It was so beautifully cruel an lit another small fire in Tim's gut. Thinking about being in Dick's position, sandwiched between Roy and Jason's strong bodies, made Tim's gut churn in delight. He'd feel so small held there in between those two, knowingly at their mercy.
The thought was pathetic and Tim knew that. He knew and he couldn't find it in him to care all that much.
Roy's grip on Dick's hips tighten. "You're going to have to beg a lot harder than that, Bluebird," Roy says, and it's so sugary sweet that Tim knows the tone is dangerous. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know why, but a sweet Roy Harper felt dangerous. Felt calculated and kind of sadistic in his tone.
Something that lit another fire in Tim's stomach as he thought about that tone being redirected in his direction. He thinks about it for a second more, palming himself through his sweats to help ease some of the tension he felt in the core of his being. The thought of Roy being dangerously Sweet to him—fuck. Tim didn't really know why that did what it did to him, why Roy's words and that simple change in tone
"You know," Roy continues, "Just for that, Grayson, I think you're gonna have to wait some more. I'll go play with Jayce over here since he's been a such a good boy." Good. Boy. Tim never heard something he wanted to be called more than good boy.
Fuck, he's a mess. This is something that will for sure linger around in his brain for a bit after.
What happens next is a blur. Roy and Jason guide both themselves and Dick to the couch, leaving Dick there in state of half undress, opting to spend an awfully long time peeling each other's clothes. It's a lot of bets and buckles and red, but soon Roy and Jason are In just their boxers and Tim can get a closer look at them—well, as close as being hidden behind a door can get him. There's a quiet thud and suddenly Roy's on the floor, right in between Jason's legs. Then, Roy's head is bobbing up and down, Jason groaning as he tangles his hand in Roy's ginger locks.
Tim knows he's straining in his boxers because he feels it still, painfully so, and he just wants to know how it would feel like having Roy down there. Just from looking at the whole ordeal in front of him, Tim definitely knows that Roy was skilled in what he was doing.
Fuck it would be nice, Tim thinks.
"You both are fucking bastards," Dick laughs. and from Tim's vantage point he can see Dick's hips straddling Jason's very own, lining up. Dick continues, "Watch and wait for next time, especially you Jayce," jabbing a finger into Jason's chest. Despite the words, it's got no bite. It's so terribly tender that it felt too intimate for what Tim had been seeing. Then, Dick sinks down and that's the end of it. Tim is genuinely enraptured by the way Dick's back arches as he seeks his own pleasure. He'd been so confident with it, unrestrained and happy and it makes the reality of the situation all too real.
Tim decided to get the fuck out of there once the study door creaked open just a bit from the slight lean Tim had against it. He didn't want to be there when Dick, Roy, or Jason went looking for the culprit nor was he sure if he could even face them if he did end up getting caught.
Tim recognized—in what could only be considered a moment of lucidity outside the haze of horniness that washed over him in the moment—how fucked it was to make himself a piece of a moment not meant for him. He walked the walk of shame all the way to the shower, blasting himself with ice cold water. He couldn't even believe he'd done that; couldn't believe that he'd made himself a passive audience member in the sexual exploits of people he cared about without their permission.
Perving on Dick, Jason, and Roy through a crack in the study door was a new low. He'd be thoroughly mortified if he was found out by either one of them.