017. Long Hours
He's liquidfluidwonderful and he'll going to drown beneath him, in his own sweat.
"B-Bart, ugghh…" Tim pants out. The thrusting against his hips, into him, decelerates and the frequency of vibrating lowers to a humming.
Gold eyes peek through too-long eyelashes down at him. Sometimes… sometimes Bart is too pretty.
Tim tries to speak his thoughts at first and ends up slurring the clearer words he wants to voice. He swallows hard. Someone should have warned him that multiple orgasms would make someone ridiculously incoherent and woozy on top of it.
"nngh… I'm cl-…"
Bart's smile goes lopsided.
And so pretty.
"Again?" he asks, snickering.
The edges blur to Tim's vision as the timing of vibrations and the much stronger thrusts increases and all Tim can do is whimper with lips screwed up tight and fist a pillow above him.
Helpless usually wasn't a good feeling. Helpless is most of the time attuned to a bad feeling.
Tim feels the root of his (fourth…? fifth in the last hour…?) orgasm gripping in the base of his shaft. Spreading up. And up. And out to wetly coat his stomach. A good helpless, if it existed… was this.
DC Comics isn't mine. Older drabble I got to mess around with that I never got to publish here. Hope you enjoyed the PWP smut! Thoughts/comments appreciated!