[ Tim should probably be worried by the way it feels when he hears approval in Jason's voice - it's not something that he's used to hearing from his Jason, after all, so it just - it makes him feel a different kind of warmth, somewhere that catches deep inside him and makes him hurt a little, too. He shouldn't be looking for approval from Jason, any Jason, not any more, but there's still a part of him that remembers the Robin who was so bright and brilliant, the ghost behind glass that he'd picture and talk to when he was alone and questioning himself, and for that Jason's approval... he'd do a lot. And of course, they're still the same person, even if they're not exactly, any more. ... Basically, he's screwed up about Jason, more than he'd let himself acknowledge, and hearing that dreamy, approving tone has him responding in a way he knows is dangerous but he really can't stop.
He swallows the nectar, swallows around the vine and almost gulps the sweet stuff down, throat bobbing - he can't catch it all, so a little leaks out at the corner of his mouth, mixing with his saliva and trickling over his skin. He's distracted from just how much nectar he's drinking by watching Jason, watching him strip and taking in the sight of his scarred, muscular chest, committing every inch to memory. He feels something hot and tight surge inside him as he watches the vines creep over Jason's body, sees the tendrils curl over his shoulders and chest almost affectionately, if plants have affections - he can feel the heat in his belly grow and twist as he watches them edge Jason's fatigues down low, so low but not quite low enough to expose anything. Not that they need to - he can see the movement of the vines under Jason's waistband well enough to imagine what it must look like, how they must be touching him, teasing him, and - it's stupid to be jealous of plants, but for a gasping, twisting second, he is. He really is jealous of the vines touching Jason.
And then Jason is touching him, kissing the edge of his stretched-wide mouth and nuzzling all around his face and jaw and neck, and all he can do is make soft noises, pleased and conflicted and wanting sounds that leak out around the vine, breathless and wet-sounding. He curls his hands into fists, desperate to touch but unable to - but that's okay. Because Jason is touching him, pushing down his zipper, baring more of his skin, and he doesn't really pay attention to the sucker headed plant - it's just another plant, right, just one that Jason is nudging around for some reason - until it fastens onto his nipple and makes him gasp, startled. Oh, oh, is that - it's sucking on him, how can a plant even suck anything, that shouldn't be possible - but that's what it's doing, and it feels - strange, and it makes him groan softly, confused, arching his chest as his nipple goes hard and taut from the vine's attentions.
More vines are still crowding into his uniform, pushing and pulling, and slowly working it off - they tug off one glove, a boot, most of one sleeve, leaving him tangled in his own uniform to a degree. And they finally shove his jock half-way down, pushing it aside so that his cock is exposed, and it's embarrassingly hard, flushed and slightly sticky with pre-come. ]
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He swallows the nectar, swallows around the vine and almost gulps the sweet stuff down, throat bobbing - he can't catch it all, so a little leaks out at the corner of his mouth, mixing with his saliva and trickling over his skin. He's distracted from just how much nectar he's drinking by watching Jason, watching him strip and taking in the sight of his scarred, muscular chest, committing every inch to memory. He feels something hot and tight surge inside him as he watches the vines creep over Jason's body, sees the tendrils curl over his shoulders and chest almost affectionately, if plants have affections - he can feel the heat in his belly grow and twist as he watches them edge Jason's fatigues down low, so low but not quite low enough to expose anything. Not that they need to - he can see the movement of the vines under Jason's waistband well enough to imagine what it must look like, how they must be touching him, teasing him, and - it's stupid to be jealous of plants, but for a gasping, twisting second, he is. He really is jealous of the vines touching Jason.
And then Jason is touching him, kissing the edge of his stretched-wide mouth and nuzzling all around his face and jaw and neck, and all he can do is make soft noises, pleased and conflicted and wanting sounds that leak out around the vine, breathless and wet-sounding. He curls his hands into fists, desperate to touch but unable to - but that's okay. Because Jason is touching him, pushing down his zipper, baring more of his skin, and he doesn't really pay attention to the sucker headed plant - it's just another plant, right, just one that Jason is nudging around for some reason - until it fastens onto his nipple and makes him gasp, startled. Oh, oh, is that - it's sucking on him, how can a plant even suck anything, that shouldn't be possible - but that's what it's doing, and it feels - strange, and it makes him groan softly, confused, arching his chest as his nipple goes hard and taut from the vine's attentions.
More vines are still crowding into his uniform, pushing and pulling, and slowly working it off - they tug off one glove, a boot, most of one sleeve, leaving him tangled in his own uniform to a degree. And they finally shove his jock half-way down, pushing it aside so that his cock is exposed, and it's embarrassingly hard, flushed and slightly sticky with pre-come. ]