mun is playing Arkham Knight

[hoodforhire]

Dude, maybe you should, I don't know, finish the fucking game before you get all grabby hands with old muses? Yeah, and don't think I didn't see you creating a new account for the Arkham Knight either. It should piss me off, but whatever.

I've got bigger things on my mind than some juvenile urge to play video games.

Comments

[hoodforhire]

[Jason chuckles, edging forward to see if Tim will retreat. Right then, jibes aside, he feels much better, like a wolf that just caught sight of a wounded rabbit.]

Change of subject, huh? Cute. The old man must've really done a number on you this time. What, did he replace you with a younger model again?

[redripoff]

No one's replacing me. [not an inch to budge, not about to give first blood. Thumbs run the inside of Jason's collar to pop it up, one palm catching his jaw for a quick shake, like a dog, like a scolding] No one's better than me.

[maybe might budge an inch or so. no smart rabbit stays still too long, so his fist drops, stamps lightly at Jason's chest as he pushes away.] You're projecting again.

[hoodforhire]

[Boy, Tim, you must be feeling really invincible at the moment if you think you can put your hands on Jason like that without some consequences coming your way. Especially that head shake.]

Is that what I'm doing?

[redripoff]

Near constantly. I could be wrong, but.

[but the half-shrug as he steps back is a reminder that he's not. infallible, invincible. no one's exactly proving him wrong here.]

[hoodforhire]

But.

[Jason cocks his head, setting Tim in his sights.]

You're never wrong, are you? Perfect little Timmy. Perfect sidekick. Perfect student. Perfect partner. Perfect punching bag. Perfect cocksucker; when Bruce whistles, you come like a dog. Perfect. Never wrong. Always a good little soldier for Daddy's army.

[redripoff]

[no flinching, no bleeding, but his mouth turns up like hackles--hands open and ready at his sides] I think you should slow your roll.

[hoodforhire]

[A laugh again. Really, Tim would be cute if he wasn't such a prick with Bruce's fist forever up his ass.]

What, did I go too far with the cocksucker comment? It's not like it would surprise anyone to know what you and B get up to in the dark of the night.

[Baited. Jason sneers.]

It's not like you'd be the first.

[redripoff]

Or the best? [Baited! Baited and hooked and reeling in close again, he can't always be smart.] What's the fixation, Jason? It can't be jealousy, that's too easily fixed: I know for a fact you know how to beg.

[hoodforhire]

[See, this is the kind of Tim he really likes. The one whose buttons are pushed and he starts to reel. Endlessly hot as fuck, seeing that soft face contort in agitation.]

For a fact, huh? Does that mean B broke out the VHS tapes? God I hope you saw the good ones where he held me down.

[Bomb dropped. Jason waits patiently for the fallout.]

[redripoff]

[hits his gut hard and makes him sick (scared) deep down, but he's already collar-hot--defensive and angry, so the sickness just comes up as meanness, biting:] God, do you miss it?

i'm sorry stop me if I go too far but it's JASON limits what limits

[hoodforhire]

[A wry, emotionless chuckle, as Jason steps forward again, attempting to crowd Tim, corral him towards the wall.]

Like a bullet to the head.

[So no.]

But you. You miss it. Huh? Miss sneaking around the Manor behind Alfred's back. Sliding into Daddy's bed at night. Letting him put his hands on you. Big hands. Dwarfing your body while he eats. you. up.

fuckin lAY IT ON ME

[redripoff]

[stepping back is a natural instinct for him as a smaller guy. like flushing is a natural instinct for him as a private person. but when he bumps the wall and Jason is right there and right there, he follows his trained instinct as a person attacked and swings at Jason's mouth.]

fffffffffffffffffffs

[hoodforhire]

[Jason catches Tim's wrist, cruelly twisting it to use his momentum against him. He hadn't come here to spar, but jesus if it doesn't get him wound up to do it.]

Hah-predictable. Didn't he teach you not to let anger consume you or some Yoda bullshit?

[He twists and twists, until he can get Tim's face up against the wall, arm behind his back an an angle that begs for just a little more so he can snap the bones in half. Jason lowers his mouth to Tim's ear.]

Such a disappointment.

[redripoff]

[it's more embarrassing than he would like to admit, being caught--being predictable. So Jason hums up against him, and Tim goes with something unusual for him. The pain that spikes up through his shoulder comes out his mouth as a stickier sound than it should. It rolls out in his hips, a sure, practiced motion that's meant to rock through kevlar and between the legs, Jason will feel it.

[And if he stalls at all, he'll have a skull bashing against his nose, Tim's whole weight shoving back at him from against the wall--a hand fishing back for the nearest knife, gun, whatever he's got in grabbing distance.]

[hoodforhire]

[Oh. He feels it all right. Feels it through his body like a wrecking ball (don't even start singing that song). It's a good move, admittedly. Shows Tim hasn't let his guard completely down yet. And let's be honest, if Tim didn't fight back, this would be so boring.]

Ahaaa - that is a gun in my pocket if you want it.

[Jason doesn't dodge his reach; instead, he lets him take it. seeing Tim with a gun in hand will be worth it. When Tim gets sight of him, Jason's a mangled bloody nose in front of him, sneering.]

[redripoff]

[not allowed to use one on the field, but that doesn't mean he's dumb about the weapon. Neuters it quick as he can, though, ejecting the clip and double-checking the safety in a second or two before turning the barrel into his palm. Just a blunt object, but certainly fiercer than just the heel of his hand when he jams for the soft at the bottom of Jason's ribs, back up, back off]

[hoodforhire]

Ooof!

[Okay. Should've seen that one coming, right? Still. Tim wielding a gun. Sexy as fuck.]

Haha, oh my god, you're so off limits tonight. Fine, fine. Calm your tits. I just wanted to poke and see what fun we could have.

[redripoff]

Break a limb, poke around--po-tay-to, po-tah-to, right? [shoulder rolls, mouth sneers back--eyes take an admiring look at the blood. He might normally offer to check it, but fuck that, frankly.] For the record, I'm off-limits to anyone who calls me a punching bag, you asshole. Have you had fun?

[hoodforhire]

[Rubbing the sore spot Tim hit with precision, Jason shrugs.]

If I wanted to break your arm, it would be broken, kitten. And are you really disagreeing that you're a punching bag? I mean come on. Look at you.

[redripoff]

What does that mean?!

[hoodforhire]

[God this is FUN. Isn't it FUN!?!]

Do I have to get a mirror for you to see it? You're. A. Punching. Bag.