Jason/Dick Ficlet
Title: Regrets 1.0
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Dick/Jason, mention of Tim and Alfred
Genre: Angst with humour?
Warning: Jason’s potty mouth and heavy petting
Rating: PG-13, maybe R
Word Count: 898
Summary: Jason is just following orders.
Author’s Notes: This isn’t the story I wanted to write when I sat down to write ladyblkrose's request for the events following Duct Tape Use #41. But it’s the story that took over. The reason it has the 1.0 in the title because I AM writing a different (and smuttier) version of events, which is Regrets 2.0. Hopefully you like both.
Tired. So tired. Why is it that patrol never wiped him out the way the parties did? And it’s not that Dick doesn’t like a good party. It’s that these AREN’T good parties. Everyone smiles and says the right things, but it’s so very false. It makes his teeth itch. Now a night out with Roy and Garth, that’s a party. Maybe they could talk some of the others in to joining them. Sometimes one has to blow off steam just for the sake of mental health. Especially in this family.
As soon as the car is parked in the garage, Alfred is taking himself off to the kitchen. A snack would be nice. Comfort food for a weary soul.
He trudges along the corridor, mentally cataloguing what he needs to do before heading to bed. But he’s not so tired that he doesn’t notice the slight sound from one of the alcoves. His hands are up, fending off the attack before he can even think about it.
“Jason?!” The former Red Hood is there, hands trying to touch-just touch?!-Dick. What? He still has the red domino on. Alfred will not like that. The old butler is adamant that uniforms stay below; that the manor is a place of the Family, not the Mission. “What are you doing?”
“Following orders.” Jason’s voice is thick. Almost sultry. And now that Dick knows who it is and no longer tries to counter his efforts, those hands are working to take the tuxedo jacket off him. Okay, this getting strange.
“What orders? From whom? And would you take it easy? I’m staying in okay?” Dick huffs a little as Jason manages to pull the jacket off. Why WAS he doing that and. WOAH!!!
He grabs the man’s wrists as those hands quickly pulled the shirt from his waist band and tried to push under. What the hell was going on?!
“Tim said to let him work. Sent me to find you.” There is something both desperate and hopeful about those words and makes the first Robin’s heart speed up a bit. There had been hints in the past, but it never went farther. Now. Now, he needs to know.
Dick lets go of one wrist long enough to toggle the catch and flip up the domino’s lenses. Jason’s pupils are BLOWN. The man is high on something. And seeing as Jason never touches anything harder than beer and maybe the occasional vodka these days……
“What happened?” Yes, he’s concerned. It’s been a tense four months since Jason found him, and they talked. Sort of. There is still a lot left unsaid and he doesn’t want to make things worse by assuming.
“She called herself Love Potion #9,” Jason says as his now free hand is moving to touch, to feel his older brother’s taut stomach. Which is just.
Damn. Dick has to grab the wrist again. He needs Jason to focus, to give him answers. Though that name pretty much was an answer in and of itself. Cheesy as hell but. Hmmm. “Sex pollen?” He needs another pair of hands so that he can make Jason look at him, rather than down at the crotch of Dick’s pants.
“Pheromones, yeah. Tim is working on a counter agent.” The man looks up at him and there is a goofy, lusty smile on his face. But there is also something very rueful about the expression. “The kid sent me up here. Didn’t. Didn’t want me distracting him.” Then Jason’s lips are on his neck! It’s not that the attention is unwanted it’s just.
“Jason! Stop just. Tell me what you need.” He knows. In his heart he knows but he needs to hear it. Not that it matters, it wouldn’t be real anyhow.
The second Robin leans in just laying his head on Dick’s shoulder. “Fuck.” His lips brush Dick’s neck as he talks, but it doesn’t seem intentional. “I’m a fucking coward, if it takes being dosed and high to do this.”
Dick stands there, confused. He holds himself carefully still, not wanting to give any unintended signals. “What are you....? Jason, think. I NEED you to be clear. Tell me what you need.”
The eyes close and the man visibly takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “You. I. Sex, yeah, but you. Just you. Please.” It sounds like something is breaking inside Jason to speak those words. And maybe something is breaking in Dick as well.
He lets go of the other and wraps his arms about Jason, pulling him close, just holding the taller man as if he were a child to be comforted. He is. But he’s more. So much more. Could be more. If.
“Tell me that you won’t regret this in the morning.” Because if he did. Dick will do what it takes to help his brother. But a part of him will die if he takes advantage of Jason in this state.
He doesn’t get a reply. Instead he gets a bite to the neck that makes him groan.
No. That’s not an answer. Not a good one. Firm hands move to Jason’s shoulders and push him enough to make him stand on his own. “Look at me. Tell me,” Dick demands quietly, trying to coax the truth out of Jason.
When the storm blue eyes look at him, he knows. And he relaxes.
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Dick/Jason, mention of Tim and Alfred
Genre: Angst with humour?
Warning: Jason’s potty mouth and heavy petting
Rating: PG-13, maybe R
Word Count: 898
Summary: Jason is just following orders.
Author’s Notes: This isn’t the story I wanted to write when I sat down to write ladyblkrose's request for the events following Duct Tape Use #41. But it’s the story that took over. The reason it has the 1.0 in the title because I AM writing a different (and smuttier) version of events, which is Regrets 2.0. Hopefully you like both.
Tired. So tired. Why is it that patrol never wiped him out the way the parties did? And it’s not that Dick doesn’t like a good party. It’s that these AREN’T good parties. Everyone smiles and says the right things, but it’s so very false. It makes his teeth itch. Now a night out with Roy and Garth, that’s a party. Maybe they could talk some of the others in to joining them. Sometimes one has to blow off steam just for the sake of mental health. Especially in this family.
As soon as the car is parked in the garage, Alfred is taking himself off to the kitchen. A snack would be nice. Comfort food for a weary soul.
He trudges along the corridor, mentally cataloguing what he needs to do before heading to bed. But he’s not so tired that he doesn’t notice the slight sound from one of the alcoves. His hands are up, fending off the attack before he can even think about it.
“Jason?!” The former Red Hood is there, hands trying to touch-just touch?!-Dick. What? He still has the red domino on. Alfred will not like that. The old butler is adamant that uniforms stay below; that the manor is a place of the Family, not the Mission. “What are you doing?”
“Following orders.” Jason’s voice is thick. Almost sultry. And now that Dick knows who it is and no longer tries to counter his efforts, those hands are working to take the tuxedo jacket off him. Okay, this getting strange.
“What orders? From whom? And would you take it easy? I’m staying in okay?” Dick huffs a little as Jason manages to pull the jacket off. Why WAS he doing that and. WOAH!!!
He grabs the man’s wrists as those hands quickly pulled the shirt from his waist band and tried to push under. What the hell was going on?!
“Tim said to let him work. Sent me to find you.” There is something both desperate and hopeful about those words and makes the first Robin’s heart speed up a bit. There had been hints in the past, but it never went farther. Now. Now, he needs to know.
Dick lets go of one wrist long enough to toggle the catch and flip up the domino’s lenses. Jason’s pupils are BLOWN. The man is high on something. And seeing as Jason never touches anything harder than beer and maybe the occasional vodka these days……
“What happened?” Yes, he’s concerned. It’s been a tense four months since Jason found him, and they talked. Sort of. There is still a lot left unsaid and he doesn’t want to make things worse by assuming.
“She called herself Love Potion #9,” Jason says as his now free hand is moving to touch, to feel his older brother’s taut stomach. Which is just.
Damn. Dick has to grab the wrist again. He needs Jason to focus, to give him answers. Though that name pretty much was an answer in and of itself. Cheesy as hell but. Hmmm. “Sex pollen?” He needs another pair of hands so that he can make Jason look at him, rather than down at the crotch of Dick’s pants.
“Pheromones, yeah. Tim is working on a counter agent.” The man looks up at him and there is a goofy, lusty smile on his face. But there is also something very rueful about the expression. “The kid sent me up here. Didn’t. Didn’t want me distracting him.” Then Jason’s lips are on his neck! It’s not that the attention is unwanted it’s just.
“Jason! Stop just. Tell me what you need.” He knows. In his heart he knows but he needs to hear it. Not that it matters, it wouldn’t be real anyhow.
The second Robin leans in just laying his head on Dick’s shoulder. “Fuck.” His lips brush Dick’s neck as he talks, but it doesn’t seem intentional. “I’m a fucking coward, if it takes being dosed and high to do this.”
Dick stands there, confused. He holds himself carefully still, not wanting to give any unintended signals. “What are you....? Jason, think. I NEED you to be clear. Tell me what you need.”
The eyes close and the man visibly takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “You. I. Sex, yeah, but you. Just you. Please.” It sounds like something is breaking inside Jason to speak those words. And maybe something is breaking in Dick as well.
He lets go of the other and wraps his arms about Jason, pulling him close, just holding the taller man as if he were a child to be comforted. He is. But he’s more. So much more. Could be more. If.
“Tell me that you won’t regret this in the morning.” Because if he did. Dick will do what it takes to help his brother. But a part of him will die if he takes advantage of Jason in this state.
He doesn’t get a reply. Instead he gets a bite to the neck that makes him groan.
No. That’s not an answer. Not a good one. Firm hands move to Jason’s shoulders and push him enough to make him stand on his own. “Look at me. Tell me,” Dick demands quietly, trying to coax the truth out of Jason.
When the storm blue eyes look at him, he knows. And he relaxes.