Jason/Tim? (If not, then DickTim) Smut
One slam into the wall and it’s over. The force is near deafening and the wall cracks behind him. A large hand grips tightly around his neck, holding him in place. A cocky smirk before his mouth is devoured.
His legs move of their own accord and wrap around the other’s waist. He should be trying to kick out, to fight but he’s grown tired. He doesn’t know what he’s fighting for any longer.
He’s been left alone. Left with nothing. All he has to keep him comfort is this. A rough hand finds its way downwards, groping him harshly, making him call out and buck his hips. It’s followed by a deep rumbling chuckle in his ear.
”You like that Pretender?”