Title: Panty Shot
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Betas in alphebetical order: Betty, Katarik, Mari, and RubyNye
Fandom: Nightwing/Robin/Batman
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dick/Tim

Summary: Dick wants to make a group photo, but he’ll need Tim to cooperate first.
Note: Started as a "Pants" challenge response on the Live Journal community dc_flashfiction. Finished with help at the Live Journal community making_sausage. Placed sometime before Young Justice disbanded.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by DC comics.

*---*---*---*---*

It was probably one of Dick’s sillier plans, but he was pretty sure he could get away with it without getting too many people ticked off at him. He’d been down in the Cave because of one of those rare times when Alfred had called him up and hinted, in that subtle way of his, that he should spend some family time with Bruce.

After dinner, he'd joined Bruce and Tim on patrol. Bruce, needing some information he couldn't get as Batman, had gone and hit the bars as his 'Matches Malone' persona. That had left Dick with Tim for the night.

The night had been a silent one for them; a couple muggings, a low-grade bank robbery, a few convenience store hold-ups. Tim had finally convinced him to call it an early night, in hopes of getting some file work done on the Cave computer. Dick had decided to tag along in order to grab a shower before returning home to Blüdhaven.

As usual when in the Cave, he had seen the Case. He wasn't usually absent-minded, yet with the kind of life he led it wasn't surprising that he had forgotten that next week was the Anniversary.

The idea just popped into his head; nothing all that much, really, but it shouldn't be too difficult. He’d been going through his old photo albums the night before. Standing in front of the Case and feeling the Anniversary looming ahead, the idea of a photo of all the Robins together really hadn’t seemed like a bad idea.

Dick used the surveillance tapes from the cave – a real challenge, given the lighting down in the cave – and doctored up a picture. It was great, but... Well. Tim stood out with his long tights, black and yellow layered cape, and high collar. The picture should show them as a group, so Dick was less than thrilled at the way Tim looked like an outsider. So, remembering that Tim had actually worn the old costume once, he tried to find some good surveillance clips.

That didn’t pan out. Either the lighting wasn’t good enough or Tim wasn’t facing the camera at the right angle. If Dick had not known that Tim had learned the stealth techniques after his first appearance as Robin, more specifically the ones to avoid cameras, Dick would have sworn that it had been on purpose.

He could drop the whole thing; after all, it was an admittedly petty attempt at remembering the Day. But some things, like this, were too important to drop. All he needed was a *plan*.

Or maybe just a bit of blackmail.

*---*---*---*---*

Tim stopped typing at the keyboard and swiveled around to look at Dick. "I must have misheard you."

Dick lounged back against his motorcycle, juggling a camera and a manila envelope containing a choice selection of blackmail material. "Actually, no, you didn’t. Unless of course you didn’t hear me at all, in which case we really need to get your hearing checked. I'm sure Bruce has the machine for that somewhere around here."

Tim scowled at Dick, though he must have known that wouldn’t faze Dick much. "Let me get this straight: unless I dress up in pixie boots and hot pants so you can get a couple photographs, which I should point out could be used for yet more blackmail at a later date, you’ll show some embarrassing pictures of me to Young Justice."

"Hey, the outfit’s not that bad!"

"Dick, they’re fairy boots and panties. Most people wouldn’t be caught dead in an outfit like that. The only reason I can’t use it against you is that almost everyone you know wore something similar or worse."

Dick frowned and thought about it. Damn it, okay, maybe Tim did have a point there. "Just means you can’t get back at me."

"You totally suck at blackmailing, Dick. Now *I*, on the other hand..."

Dick did not like the sound of that. "Right. Like you can do better."

"The security photos of Catwoman kissing you are enough to make sure that your girlfriend will make life miserable for you in the months to come."

"Hey! Now that’s just low!"

"Dick, it’s blackmail. Of course it’s low." Tim smirked, eyes bright with mischief. "Now why don’t you tell me why you want those photos so that I can decide whether or not it’s worth humiliating myself over."

Dick finally realized that he had taken the wrong tack. "It’s stupid," he said, shifting his weight in a flawless imitation of chagrin.

"You trying to blackmail me is stupid. Now spill."

Dick went for ‘covering dejected feeling’ and looked away. "With the… Anniversary coming up, I guess I just wanted -"

"I’m not Jason, Dick."

The undercurrent of hurt that tinged Tim’s low, steely voice startled Dick into examining Tim's body language. Yet all that Dick could pick up on to convince him he hadn’t dreamt that tone of voice was Tim’s tight grip on the armrests. Seemed he had tripped over a major issue for his little brother. Dick made a mental note to talk to--yell at, more like--Bruce about Tim and his apparently unsettled issues with Jason.

He decided that this wasn’t the correct tack either, and tried bluntness instead. "Of course you’re not Jason."

Tim’s forehead furrowed as his hands relaxed. "Then why?"

"I wanted to make a picture of all the Robins together and your uniform kind of took away from the ‘togetherness’ I was shooting for."

"Oh." That one tiny syllable, and Tim relaxed all over. There was a small moment of silence as Tim thought it over; then a timid, shy smile that only the people closest to Tim ever saw. "Just let me shave my legs."

*---*---*---*---*

When Tim came out of the shower clad in Dick's old uniform, Dick couldn’t help but notice that the uniforms fit was a bit off. The tunic, oddly enough, draped over Tim's upper thighs a quarter-way to the knees, covering up most of the scaled green hot pants. Also, Tim was still a skinny little thing, but he filled Dick's Robin suit snugly in the shoulders--which the cape hid--and around the chest.

"Looks like you got a skirt there, Timmy. Or is it Tiffany?" Oh, the nasty look Dick got for that comment. Absolutely worth it.

"Don't start with me. I could find the reports from when you had to go undercover as a girl."

Dick shrugged, and motioned to a more open part of the cave. "Shall we, Tiffany?"

"I could find *mask feeds*, Dick. I'm sure the Titans would love those." Tim tugged on the end of a gauntlet, not used to its lighter armor, but moved in the direction Dick had motioned.

For the most part, Dick thought that Tim wouldn't do that, but then this is *Tim*--the most likely person Dick's ever met that could give Bruce a run for his money on the freak scale. Plus, from what he'd heard, Robin's been hanging with the Birds lately. It's very possible that Tim could carry out that threat.

Dick followed Tim to the indicated spot, close to one of the more nondescript walls in order not to get any of the mechanical clutter into the shots. He had a nice angle of Tim's hairless legs. It should not have been that surprising that Tim was that thorough while shaving, yet it was, and Dick wondered idly if the skin was as smooth as Barbara's was after she shaved.

"So, how many of these photographs do you need, anyhow?"

Dick blinked, and grinned. "Oh, around 5 or so. In case they don't come out."

Tim glared. "After you're done, I expect you to destroy any negatives and unused pictures."

"Of course, Timmy. Was there ever any doubt?"

"I know you, Dick. There's always doubt when it comes to how far you'll go to tease me."

Ow. The sad part was, Tim wasn't kidding. Tim should know him better than that, and it's... Alright, maybe it was Dick's fault Tim doesn't know him better than that. "You know I don't tease about the important things, right?"

Tim sighed and posed, waiting for the click and barely audible whir of the shutter. Knowing him, that was the best answer Dick would get. Bringing the camera up to eye level, Dick pressed the button. "Bring your hands to your hips, and smile this time."

Tim glared, but did as he was told. Ever a good soldier. Although the smile was more of a smirk, but Dick could live with that. Another press, and another click. "Side profile."

Tim moved, once again in that absent minded way. That had... possibilities. Tim really did look good in the lighter uniform; Dick's always had a small, less than appropriate, liking for his little brother. As much fun as Tim had had poking at him earlier, truth was Dick hadn't *had* a girlfriend for a few months...

Bruce was guaranteed not to be back for another few hours, what with the fund-raiser over on 45th and Grand. They should have plenty of time.

Tim was older than when Dick had his first, but then, Tim was not called Boy Virgin by the Spoiler for no reason.

Dick will have to feel it out first. See if Tim was willing... and if not, convince him.

Dick's good at that.

Another click and almost silent whir. "Alright, face the wall."

Tim did, without thinking, and Dick pounced. The compact camera is slipped into one of his wrist compartments, and Dick's crowding Tim between him and the wall. "Did I mention you look good, little brother?"

"Dick? What are you-" Tim stopped, and tensed as Dick skated a hand lightly up Tim's side. Dick knew from experience that the slight pressure could be felt through the lighter armor.

Dick pitched his voice in that way he had learned made significant others feel weak in the knees, and whispered in Tim's ear. "Look really, really good."

"Don't--don't tease, Dick." Breathy, strained voice. "Not about this."

Dick frowned, and backed off a bit. Turned Tim around, took off the green domino and looked him in the eyes. Worry, fear, and a slight tinge of hope.

Tim never could manage to blank his emotions from his eyes.

Dick had never managed to blank his emotions at all. "I don't tease about the important things, Tim."

"Dick-" his words were cut off as Dick’s mouth closed over Tim’s, hard and smooth as Dick's tongue worked its way into Tim’s mouth, licking the roof teasingly. While kissing, Dick also stroked along the sensitive stretch of skin just below the hairline on the nape of Tim’s neck, above the collar of the cape that wasn’t quite Tim’s.

And Tim tensed; shuddering under Dick’s other hand that pressed Tim against the cave wall. It wasn’t enough, though; Dick wanted more, wanted Tim to let go of all that tight control of his--

Dick stepped closer, shifting his hips until he was pressing Tim against the stone wall all over. Tim moaned into the kiss, and Dick moved his hand down between them, petting the red tunic along the way--just enough to make Tim do that tight and controlled shuddering again. He could feel Tim trying to keep control, even if he couldn't *see* it, and his tongue moved out of that sweet mouth.

"Had Alfred's caramel crème brûlée, did you?" Dick murmured against Tim's lips, giving one last lick before he stepped back to look over his handiwork. Tim’s face was all flushed and he was panting slightly, but it still wasn’t enough of a loss of control for Dick.

Tim licked his own lips, blue eyes shuttered closed. "Want to test that hypothesis?"

"You know I do. But I've got other plans before then." Dick slid the hand on Tim’s neck forward, and watched Tim lean into the caress. He shifted to cup Tim’s cheek, tilting Tim's head back enough so that he could press light kisses under Tim's jaw and down his neck.

Dick could feel the moan under his lips this time. The oddly dressed Robin shuddered again as Tim's gauntlets fell to Dick’s hips; pulling Dick harder against Tim. Dick couldn’t help but smirk as his trapped hand thumbed the catch on the old belt buckle, and tugged the belt away; letting it drop off to the side. Dick listened to the almost-metallic clank as the buckle hit the stone floor.

Even as Dick shifted his head to lick around Tim’s ear, his hands moved to undo the tunic’s catches. They moved farther down after that, under the tunic’s material and past the undershirt to stroke against the warm, firm skin of Tim’s abs, lightly tracing the line where the hot pants started. "What do you want me to do, Tim?" Dick was close enough to hear Tim swallow.

Tim's gloved hands slipped past Dick's hem-line to touch skin. Dick shivered at the cold feeling on his hips. "Anything, just do it fast."

Most people would have seen that as a bad signal, but not Dick. He knew what it was like to be a 15 year-old boy. What it was like not to have the endurance to last long. Dick was tempted to let Tim just soil the hot pants--cleaning them would be worth it--but Tim deserved more than to feel outclassed like that.

Dick flipped the catches on the hot pants in a slightly awkward motion—it was different from this angle--and Dick pulled the plate scaled armor down around Tim's knees with one hand, and then wrapped his other around Tim's arousal.

"I got you, little brother." That statement probably wasn't needed, considering how Tim arched into the touch, clutched at Dick's hips and whimpered into Dick's shoulder.

"Not—nnn--not legally," Tim murmured as he moved his hips into Dick's fist.

"Thank God for that," Dick said reverently, licking at Tim's lips and tasting more of Alfred's crème brûlée on Tim.

Tim rocked on his heels, tensing harder and harder under Dick's hands. Another tight and controlled shudder and Tim clung to Dick, releasing into Dick's hand.

There was still a bit of splash back on the hot pants, but Dick has been doing his own laundry for awhile now. He could live with it.

Tim was all limp, collapsed against Dick. The warmth of his body leaning on Dick was as delicious as the caramel flavor of Tim's mouth, which Dick tasted for a third time as he kissed Tim again.

At first Tim was passive in the kiss, still coming back to his senses, but it wasn't long before the field of battle was transferred to Dick's own territory. Tim's hands on his hips just sort of *stroked* and Dick couldn't help but buck a bit in Tim's hold, suddenly focused not on the tongue doing amazing things in his mouth but the hard throb of his own arousal.

Tim backed off totally at the movement, blue eyes shuttered almost closed. "Hmmm. I should do something about that."

"Considering you caused it, you really should," Dick said, giving his best sexy smile.

Tim just 'hmmm'-ed again and unhooked the yellow cape, and folded it to act as a cushion as he slid gracefully down to his knees, tucking the cape beneath them. He tugged Dick's pants down around his knees, took Dick's hips into his hands once more, and--

God! Hot and slick, Tim's tongue dragged along the bottom of Dick's erection, and for a few moments Dick couldn't think of anything other then 'more'. Tim might have been smaller then Dick, but his grip was still strong enough to keep Dick from choking him by shoving into that wet heat. Which Dick would be thankful for later, but right then was just frustrating.

Then Tim did something really, really interesting with that tongue of his. Dick gasped, and threaded his fingers in Tim's clean, feathery hair. "Tim..."

Tim hummed a reply, which made Dick almost whimper at the sensation. Tim, being the fast learner that he was, started humming continuously, mouthing Dick's erection more. Dick knew that he wouldn't last much longer, and tugged at Tim's hair in warning. Yet Tim took that as an encouragement, and Dick arched and--

Oh God in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name.

When Dick had the ability to think and catalog his surroundings again, he noted that he'd pulled a few strands of hair out of Tim's scalp. Also, Tim had held him up, lips red and bruised looking, and Dick's first thought was that it was a shame Tim won't taste like caramel crème brûlée for a while.

When Dick had the wonderful thought to regain his balance and shift out of Tim's hold, Tim stood up himself. Dick was lost on what to do next. "Umm..."

"Shall we move to the mats?"

What a wonderful mind Tim had. "Let’s," Dick replied.

*---*---*---*

The night after, Bruce was sitting in the cave, going over the security feeds from the night before. It didn't take long for him to find edited parts.

Three different feeds from the Cave erased for a total elapsed time of an hour and a half. Dick and Tim had been in the Cave together.

Bruce already had suspicions. But it was still cause for mild concern; the most likely scenario wasn't necessarily the situation that had actually *occurred*.

Bruce sent what was left of the files to Oracle, with instructions to restore if possible and send them back to him.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. The feeds would definitely be interesting things to watch, one way or the other.

--Fin