Occupational Hazards
Pairing: Bruce/Jason
Genre: Humor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Bruce takes care of Jason after a … dramatic accident.
Warnings: It's Bruce/Robin!Jason, so it's underage. And I know Jason was only fifteen when he died, which would make him very young, so I'm cheating and I made him at least 17 or something for this.
Words: 1,949
Notes: I wanted to make it cute, but with Robin!Jason, it's probably still mildly disturbing. XD
"Ow."
"Easy, chum. Easy."
"Ow."
"I know."
They leave a trail of wet splotches behind 'til they finally reach a chair, where Bruce plops him down as gently as possible. It's the big chair, the one he usually sits in. As soon as he's in it, Jason curls up into a ball. A soaked, naked, bruising ball.
"Stay here," Bruce growls. He sounds concerned and mildly uncomfortable. "Be back in a moment."
Jason bites his lip and nods, and tries not to look too much like a total sack of sad when the older man turns around, bare-assed, nice big dick dangling and everything, and marches back to the shower.
As soon as he's out of sight, Jason drops his head into his hands, groaning. His face feels hot. The shame. It burns. The shame is almost worse than the pain, and the pain is actually pretty bad. And to think that it had started out so well, too. Man.
They'd returned from patrol in high spirits, laughing and pumped full of adrenaline. They'd stumbled into the locker room, like they do, they'd stripped each other naked, like they do, and then they'd ducked into the showers and made out under the hot, heavy stream, like they do, and it's the best. And then, Bruce does something awesome he's never done before, drops to his knees in front of him and takes him into his mouth. Really, really deep into his mouth, like he somehow knows what Jason is dreaming about when he's alone in his room. And it feels even better than he'd ever imagined. Bruce uses his tongue on him in ways that make Jason moan in gratitude and grab the shower bar so he doesn't fall down. Even to Jason's blurred watery vision, the whole thing looks gorgeous - Bruce's lips wrapped around his erection, his wet, matted black hair sticking to his head and body, his own fat cock stiff and ready between his legs. And he's all sweet and passionate about it, too, running his fingers and nails over his hips and his ass, humming like he really loves what he's doing. He gets Jason off so hard it makes him see stars.
Jason doesn't even think about what to do next, once Bruce's mouth releases his dick and he makes to stand up again. He's too excited, too grateful. He so badly wants to do the same for him. He lets go of the shower bar, stumbling to get down on his knees. The sight of the older man's wanting, majestic member always takes his breath away, but never more so than now, when he thinks of what he's going to do w -
And then he slips on the tiles, sails past Bruce and lands flat on his face, bruising his chin, his elbows, his knees, and his confidence.
It's bonkers. He's brought down eight heavies tonight (not even counting the five he's taken down in a tag-team with Batman), big bad dudes with broken bottles and knives, yet there hadn't been a scratch on him. Then he tries to get some post-patrol dick in him for the first time, and wham! He's out of commission for the next two nights, at least. He can barely move his arms or legs, and his knees start looking like pamplemousses. Purple, hideous ones.
Bruce returns with a decency towel slung around his waist, and very sweetly drapes a second towel around Jason's shoulders. Then, he produces a couple bandages and ice packs from a nearby utility unit, and turns to him again. He looks as calm and sober as always, but his face is … very red.
"I'll have to tie this around your head," he announces with a slight hint of regret.
Jason winces as he warily eyes the ice pack in Bruce's hand. Great. He'll look like a kid in a comic strip.
Bruce sees the look on his face and mutters, "I know," but then he bends over him, and gets to work. Jason sits still and lets him do it, unhappy frown frozen on his face. He usually likes Bruce's experienced fingers on him while he tends to his wounds, but he also usually isn't this embarrassed about acquiring said wounds. What's worse, Bruce's face is still red, and he can tell that he's embarrassed, too. And embarrassing Bruce is his worst nightmare. He barely dares to look at him. Not even when he briefly, tenderly caresses Jason's left cheek, which is one of the few parts of his face that's not turning lilac.
"Your teeth?" He inquires, not as personable as Jason would've liked.
He pokes around his mouth with his tongue and shakes his head, to which Bruce lets out a content little grunt. Once Jason's head is neatly wrapped up, Bruce takes one of his slender wrists , and carefully turns it to check for signs of spraining or fracturing.
"Does this hurt?" His voice is all soothing and soft, but he still sounds tense.
It's a little hard to say at first because everything hurts, but Jason can tell that his wrists will be okay, unlike his pride and his dignity.
"N-ah," he mumbles, with difficulty. His mouth hurts. He sounds like he's got a potato stuck in it.
Bruce puts a soft hand on his shoulder. "Nodding will suffice," he assures him. Then, they repeat the maneuver with Jason's other wrist, and then his ankles. When they all check out, Bruce seems relieved. He grabs himself a few more ice packs, and starts bandaging his elbows and knees, too. Having Bruce's firm, expert hands on his naked thighs would be enough to get him horny again, if his body wasn't a minefield of unpleasant sensations right now.
When he's done patching him up, Bruce lets out a deep sigh, and finally doesn't look so tense anymore. "I can't believe I didn't catch you," he blurts out, shaking his head. He sounds like he's really sorry, and now Jason realizes that he's not embarrassed for him, but for himself. Somehow, that makes it worse.
"N-ah, dun' feel bad," Jason hurries to squeeze out, even though it hurts. "Can' believe I didn' catch m'fall better. I do that … a lot."
"No."
Bruce sternly shakes his head again, at him this time, as if he's categorically forbidding Jason from blaming himself, "It's not your fault, Jason. Your body had just lost a sizeable amount of protein, you couldn't be expected to display the same excellent sense of balance you usually possess. But I -"
"You think m' balance is excellen'?" Jason perks up, and now his ears are heating up along with the rest of his face, though for different reasons.
Bruce looks surprised. He tries to reflexively pat Jason's knee, then thinks better of it at the last second. "I don't think, I know, chum."
Jason wants to kiss him. But the rapid swelling in his entire lower face area tips him off that it's probably not a good idea.
Neither is smiling at him.
"Easy," Bruce mutters again when he sees the grimace he pulls. He sounds very mild when he says, "Don't feel bad, chum. Things like these happen to the best of men, believe me."
Jason snorts at that, then winces in pain. "This ever happen to you, B?"
Bruce bites his lip and looks at him awkwardly. "No," he has to admit.
Then, he confirms Jason's worst concerns when he says, "I think we'll put you on Cave duty for the rest of the week. You can support me remotely from here. Don't worry," he adds hastily when he sees the devastated look on Jason's face, "It'll be fine."
"But who's gonn' have'ur back out there?" Jason protests, crestfallen, even though he knows it's futile. He can't believe he's gonna miss out on Batman-and-Robin time, all because he was too eager to suck cock; that's shameful.
Bruce looks stern again. "I believe I don't have to tell you -"
"You don' need anyone," Jason mumbles, hanging his head. "Yeah I know."
"That wasn't what I meant." Bruce squeezes his shoulder, prompting him to look up again. "I would feel better to have you with me, you know that. But not … er, not like this."
Jason sees him wince. "I can't believe I didn't catch you," he mumbles again, still looking awfully guilty. His broad, bare shoulders are drooping, and his face grows an even darker shade of red. "It's my fault, I should have never … if I hadn't …"
"Nu-uh."
It's now on the student to put a comforting hand on the mentor's shoulder.
"If you hadn' done that," he says earnestly, and he feels his face flushing, though it probably can't be seen under all that swelling, "Now that woulda been terrible."
Bruce blinks at him. Then, he reluctantly smiles. It's a small, flustered, guilty-ish smile, but at least it's a smile. It encourages Jason to babble on, relieved that they can talk about the really cool thing that happened in the shower before everything went kinda bad.
"I really wanned to … really wanned to do that," he confesses mumblily, gazing down at where Bruce's dick is hiding beneath a towel. There's nothing happening down there; Jason figures that seeing your partner do a dramatic faceplant on a hard surface is probably kind of a turn-off.
Bruce looks conflicted for a sec, then resigned, and kinda frustrated. He looks down at Jason's swollen knees, and scratches the back of his neck.
"Yes," He admits quietly, and a little embarrassed again. "I really. I really wanted you to, too."
He furrows his brow and raises a warning finger when he sees Jason's eyes light up at that. "But that's not what you should be concerned about right now -"
Jason knows he's got a point. The ice pack helps, but he couldn't even painlessly fit a candy bar into his mouth at the moment, let alone a massive penis, which is too bad. Another good reason to swiftly get better, though.
"But, you didn' -" he says faintly. They always get off together after patrol these days. It's kinda their thing.
Bruce seems almost a little moved by his concern, but then he smiles wryly, patting his bony shoulder again. "You need to lie down and get better. Trust me, I'll … take care of the rest."
That sends a small jolt through Jason's body, despite the dull, throbbing pain. He feels something twitch between his legs and licks his swollen lips. True, this really is something he probably doesn't need anyone for. Bet it'd be more fun with someone there, though. Jason would grin if he could.
He's never seen his boss get himself off all on his own. Sounds kinda interesting.
"C-can I be there?" He asks hoarsely. "When you … take care of it?"
He makes big eyes at him. Asking that makes him nervous, but come on, he looks like a tragic pile of garbage right now, bandaged all over, Bruce can't say no to him, right?
"That'd really make m'feel better," he adds for good measure. It's sneaky, but it's not technically lying. He's pretty sure it really would.
"Jason," Bruce says softly. But then, he gets that look in his eyes and leans over. He doesn't seem entirely sure where on his face he can safely put his lips. In the end, he gives him a soft kiss on his forehead.
His voices rumbles when he asks, "Can you walk?"
"Um." He shivers at the feeling of Bruce's lips moving against his skin. It's kind of tempting to let the big guy carry him in his arms all the way to his room like some special prize. But whatever's left of his pride would never let that happen. "I think? But, slowly?"
"Slowly," Bruce agrees, and wraps an arm around him. "Let's get you into some clothes, and then to bed. And then, we'll … see about the other thing."
Genre: Humor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Bruce takes care of Jason after a … dramatic accident.
Warnings: It's Bruce/Robin!Jason, so it's underage. And I know Jason was only fifteen when he died, which would make him very young, so I'm cheating and I made him at least 17 or something for this.
Words: 1,949
Notes: I wanted to make it cute, but with Robin!Jason, it's probably still mildly disturbing. XD
"Ow."
"Easy, chum. Easy."
"Ow."
"I know."
They leave a trail of wet splotches behind 'til they finally reach a chair, where Bruce plops him down as gently as possible. It's the big chair, the one he usually sits in. As soon as he's in it, Jason curls up into a ball. A soaked, naked, bruising ball.
"Stay here," Bruce growls. He sounds concerned and mildly uncomfortable. "Be back in a moment."
Jason bites his lip and nods, and tries not to look too much like a total sack of sad when the older man turns around, bare-assed, nice big dick dangling and everything, and marches back to the shower.
As soon as he's out of sight, Jason drops his head into his hands, groaning. His face feels hot. The shame. It burns. The shame is almost worse than the pain, and the pain is actually pretty bad. And to think that it had started out so well, too. Man.
They'd returned from patrol in high spirits, laughing and pumped full of adrenaline. They'd stumbled into the locker room, like they do, they'd stripped each other naked, like they do, and then they'd ducked into the showers and made out under the hot, heavy stream, like they do, and it's the best. And then, Bruce does something awesome he's never done before, drops to his knees in front of him and takes him into his mouth. Really, really deep into his mouth, like he somehow knows what Jason is dreaming about when he's alone in his room. And it feels even better than he'd ever imagined. Bruce uses his tongue on him in ways that make Jason moan in gratitude and grab the shower bar so he doesn't fall down. Even to Jason's blurred watery vision, the whole thing looks gorgeous - Bruce's lips wrapped around his erection, his wet, matted black hair sticking to his head and body, his own fat cock stiff and ready between his legs. And he's all sweet and passionate about it, too, running his fingers and nails over his hips and his ass, humming like he really loves what he's doing. He gets Jason off so hard it makes him see stars.
Jason doesn't even think about what to do next, once Bruce's mouth releases his dick and he makes to stand up again. He's too excited, too grateful. He so badly wants to do the same for him. He lets go of the shower bar, stumbling to get down on his knees. The sight of the older man's wanting, majestic member always takes his breath away, but never more so than now, when he thinks of what he's going to do w -
And then he slips on the tiles, sails past Bruce and lands flat on his face, bruising his chin, his elbows, his knees, and his confidence.
It's bonkers. He's brought down eight heavies tonight (not even counting the five he's taken down in a tag-team with Batman), big bad dudes with broken bottles and knives, yet there hadn't been a scratch on him. Then he tries to get some post-patrol dick in him for the first time, and wham! He's out of commission for the next two nights, at least. He can barely move his arms or legs, and his knees start looking like pamplemousses. Purple, hideous ones.
Bruce returns with a decency towel slung around his waist, and very sweetly drapes a second towel around Jason's shoulders. Then, he produces a couple bandages and ice packs from a nearby utility unit, and turns to him again. He looks as calm and sober as always, but his face is … very red.
"I'll have to tie this around your head," he announces with a slight hint of regret.
Jason winces as he warily eyes the ice pack in Bruce's hand. Great. He'll look like a kid in a comic strip.
Bruce sees the look on his face and mutters, "I know," but then he bends over him, and gets to work. Jason sits still and lets him do it, unhappy frown frozen on his face. He usually likes Bruce's experienced fingers on him while he tends to his wounds, but he also usually isn't this embarrassed about acquiring said wounds. What's worse, Bruce's face is still red, and he can tell that he's embarrassed, too. And embarrassing Bruce is his worst nightmare. He barely dares to look at him. Not even when he briefly, tenderly caresses Jason's left cheek, which is one of the few parts of his face that's not turning lilac.
"Your teeth?" He inquires, not as personable as Jason would've liked.
He pokes around his mouth with his tongue and shakes his head, to which Bruce lets out a content little grunt. Once Jason's head is neatly wrapped up, Bruce takes one of his slender wrists , and carefully turns it to check for signs of spraining or fracturing.
"Does this hurt?" His voice is all soothing and soft, but he still sounds tense.
It's a little hard to say at first because everything hurts, but Jason can tell that his wrists will be okay, unlike his pride and his dignity.
"N-ah," he mumbles, with difficulty. His mouth hurts. He sounds like he's got a potato stuck in it.
Bruce puts a soft hand on his shoulder. "Nodding will suffice," he assures him. Then, they repeat the maneuver with Jason's other wrist, and then his ankles. When they all check out, Bruce seems relieved. He grabs himself a few more ice packs, and starts bandaging his elbows and knees, too. Having Bruce's firm, expert hands on his naked thighs would be enough to get him horny again, if his body wasn't a minefield of unpleasant sensations right now.
When he's done patching him up, Bruce lets out a deep sigh, and finally doesn't look so tense anymore. "I can't believe I didn't catch you," he blurts out, shaking his head. He sounds like he's really sorry, and now Jason realizes that he's not embarrassed for him, but for himself. Somehow, that makes it worse.
"N-ah, dun' feel bad," Jason hurries to squeeze out, even though it hurts. "Can' believe I didn' catch m'fall better. I do that … a lot."
"No."
Bruce sternly shakes his head again, at him this time, as if he's categorically forbidding Jason from blaming himself, "It's not your fault, Jason. Your body had just lost a sizeable amount of protein, you couldn't be expected to display the same excellent sense of balance you usually possess. But I -"
"You think m' balance is excellen'?" Jason perks up, and now his ears are heating up along with the rest of his face, though for different reasons.
Bruce looks surprised. He tries to reflexively pat Jason's knee, then thinks better of it at the last second. "I don't think, I know, chum."
Jason wants to kiss him. But the rapid swelling in his entire lower face area tips him off that it's probably not a good idea.
Neither is smiling at him.
"Easy," Bruce mutters again when he sees the grimace he pulls. He sounds very mild when he says, "Don't feel bad, chum. Things like these happen to the best of men, believe me."
Jason snorts at that, then winces in pain. "This ever happen to you, B?"
Bruce bites his lip and looks at him awkwardly. "No," he has to admit.
Then, he confirms Jason's worst concerns when he says, "I think we'll put you on Cave duty for the rest of the week. You can support me remotely from here. Don't worry," he adds hastily when he sees the devastated look on Jason's face, "It'll be fine."
"But who's gonn' have'ur back out there?" Jason protests, crestfallen, even though he knows it's futile. He can't believe he's gonna miss out on Batman-and-Robin time, all because he was too eager to suck cock; that's shameful.
Bruce looks stern again. "I believe I don't have to tell you -"
"You don' need anyone," Jason mumbles, hanging his head. "Yeah I know."
"That wasn't what I meant." Bruce squeezes his shoulder, prompting him to look up again. "I would feel better to have you with me, you know that. But not … er, not like this."
Jason sees him wince. "I can't believe I didn't catch you," he mumbles again, still looking awfully guilty. His broad, bare shoulders are drooping, and his face grows an even darker shade of red. "It's my fault, I should have never … if I hadn't …"
"Nu-uh."
It's now on the student to put a comforting hand on the mentor's shoulder.
"If you hadn' done that," he says earnestly, and he feels his face flushing, though it probably can't be seen under all that swelling, "Now that woulda been terrible."
Bruce blinks at him. Then, he reluctantly smiles. It's a small, flustered, guilty-ish smile, but at least it's a smile. It encourages Jason to babble on, relieved that they can talk about the really cool thing that happened in the shower before everything went kinda bad.
"I really wanned to … really wanned to do that," he confesses mumblily, gazing down at where Bruce's dick is hiding beneath a towel. There's nothing happening down there; Jason figures that seeing your partner do a dramatic faceplant on a hard surface is probably kind of a turn-off.
Bruce looks conflicted for a sec, then resigned, and kinda frustrated. He looks down at Jason's swollen knees, and scratches the back of his neck.
"Yes," He admits quietly, and a little embarrassed again. "I really. I really wanted you to, too."
He furrows his brow and raises a warning finger when he sees Jason's eyes light up at that. "But that's not what you should be concerned about right now -"
Jason knows he's got a point. The ice pack helps, but he couldn't even painlessly fit a candy bar into his mouth at the moment, let alone a massive penis, which is too bad. Another good reason to swiftly get better, though.
"But, you didn' -" he says faintly. They always get off together after patrol these days. It's kinda their thing.
Bruce seems almost a little moved by his concern, but then he smiles wryly, patting his bony shoulder again. "You need to lie down and get better. Trust me, I'll … take care of the rest."
That sends a small jolt through Jason's body, despite the dull, throbbing pain. He feels something twitch between his legs and licks his swollen lips. True, this really is something he probably doesn't need anyone for. Bet it'd be more fun with someone there, though. Jason would grin if he could.
He's never seen his boss get himself off all on his own. Sounds kinda interesting.
"C-can I be there?" He asks hoarsely. "When you … take care of it?"
He makes big eyes at him. Asking that makes him nervous, but come on, he looks like a tragic pile of garbage right now, bandaged all over, Bruce can't say no to him, right?
"That'd really make m'feel better," he adds for good measure. It's sneaky, but it's not technically lying. He's pretty sure it really would.
"Jason," Bruce says softly. But then, he gets that look in his eyes and leans over. He doesn't seem entirely sure where on his face he can safely put his lips. In the end, he gives him a soft kiss on his forehead.
His voices rumbles when he asks, "Can you walk?"
"Um." He shivers at the feeling of Bruce's lips moving against his skin. It's kind of tempting to let the big guy carry him in his arms all the way to his room like some special prize. But whatever's left of his pride would never let that happen. "I think? But, slowly?"
"Slowly," Bruce agrees, and wraps an arm around him. "Let's get you into some clothes, and then to bed. And then, we'll … see about the other thing."