Everybody wants Dick. Well, not really, but Jinx’s spell ensures something similar - a sex or death situation.
Affections
“WHAT?!”
Dick’s eyes widened until they were of a size to rival his very head. Bruce Wayne, the Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham City, the World’s Greatest Detective, scourge of the seedy underbelly of crime, had just…shrieked like a little girl.
He didn’t think the situation was quite that bad. It didn’t warrant quite that much panic or terror or horror or…
Horror? Miffed, Dick folded his arms over his bare chest and glared down at the hysterically mumbling, not-quite-sobbing form of his former mentor. He had it on good authority that he was considered one of the hottest men in the superhero set. Granted, Bruce didn’t swing that way - most of the time, he didn’t, either - but could the man have made it sound any more like he was being offered a choice between certain death and a fate worse than death?
With him being the fate, of course.
Bruce finally seemed to collect the majority of his wits around him, and while not able to look Dick in the eye…or look at him at all…he was able to form some pertinent questions. “What would make Jinx cast a spell like that?”
Dick cringed a bit at the memory of the psychopathic mage wrapping herself around him like a second skin, and coughed. “Er, well, uh…she, uh came on to me, and Grace made some remark about me only being ‘the slut of the superhero set, not supervillains’ and Jinx got mad and decided to get even.” He was pretty pissed over the slut comment, but then Grace got affected, and, well, he’d already had sex with Roy many times over the years, and Grace was pretty much his type: strong, smart, and of course, a redhead.
Also, he couldn’t really argue that Grace was wrong. Including Grace, he’d had sex with two-thirds of the Outsiders: Kory, Roy, and Helena, those last three before the spell had been cast.
Voice completely devoid of any emotion, Bruce confirmed, “So she cast a spell that would start the week-long death of anyone you were close to, who you hadn’t had sex with?”
“Um…yeah. And the first symptom is, apparently, rainbow-colored polka-dots on the skin,” Dick agreed, mentally forming his bird-symbol out of the pink, blue and green ones on Bruce’s right side.
“I need to contact Jason Blood,” Bruce said, and turned to go.
“Oracle already has,” Dick told him, forestalling Bruce’s retreat. She’d also been insistent that they make sure the spell didn’t consider herself as Batgirl a different person than as Oracle - three times. “He says he stopped it from searching out new people - which is good, because otherwise I’d have to track down more than half of the former Titans - but anyone the spell had already set itself up to affect would be affected.”
Which was why he’d had an interesting rooftop rendezvous with Dinah later that evening after leaving the Clocktower, and then given a very blushing Tim a warning. The next night, he’d shown up at Dick’s apartment with Spoiler in tow - a polka-dotted Spoiler, who’d managed to convince her mother she’d gotten the chicken pox again.
The girl had been resigned to her fate - not nearly as unhappy as Bruce; in fact, she seemed to be looking forward to it, though Tim obviously wasn’t - and after skillfully bringing her to orgasm with his fingers the spots had started to fade away.
Then Steph had shoved Tim at him, and proceeded to kiss her boyfriend quiet while Dick tried not to think about the fact that he was giving his little brother a handjob. It had been weird, but if it was a choice between weirdness or death, weird won every time.
It was also less weird since Dick knew for a fact that Stephanie had finally managed to rid Tim of his virginity several months earlier.
Now if only Bruce would quit being weird, he could quit worrying that his balls were going to dry up from all the use they’d been getting of late. If Bruce would just let go and relax he could be rid of those killer spots in about ten minutes.
Then again, this was Batman; probably more like twenty-five, because he wouldn’t give in.
“So, who else do you have to…help out?” Bruce asked, turning back and staring at the ground. There was anxiety in his voice and probably a lot of brooding worry on his face; somehow, someway, Bruce would find a way to this all his fault.
Which, at the moment, it was, since he was insistent on Dick not touching him.
“No one, as far as I know,” Dick replied. He’d made a point of tracking down Jason and telling him what was going on; Jay had of course replied that he’d rather die than be his buttboy. Then Dick had replied that the spell didn’t seem to require intercourse, so if the Red Hood was willing to turn down a free blowjob and face death, he could be Dick’s guest.
He hadn’t however; been Dick’s guest, that was. Either Jay wasn’t close enough to him, him coming back to life had fucked things up in that regard, or he would have been affected, but only after Bruce.
Dick’s encounter with Cass had gone much more smoothly, and thankfully ended the same way; he didn’t know if he could have handled doing anything with someone else in a Batgirl suit, no matter how high his weirdness threshold was.
That took care of everyone in Gotham, and then he’d started warning former Titans. Vic and Gar, while being amused at the predicament in theory, weren’t so happy to think they’d have to add another person to their already shaky relationship. Dick had been surprised to find out that those rumors about Gar dating Raven weren’t false; they were actually some sort of threesome.
Dick had wished them well and advised them to see if Raven could set up a shielding spell. He hadn’t had to track her down because he’d already had sex with Raven in her former life during that accidental orgy that had taken place because of Gar thinking it would be funny to water Kory’s plants with rum; that had actually been how he and Vic had gotten together to begin with.
Joey had comforted him on Tamaran when Kory married Karras, though Joey was dead now so that point was moot. There had been that one-time thing in Jesse’s office, and that two-time thing with Garth on the anniversary of Tula’s death, and that ‘present’ he’d helped Donna with on Roy’s twenty-first birthday. He’d let Roy advise Argent and Damage about what was going on, but had felt it only right to inform Wally himself.
Considering Wally’s squeamish expression at the time, Dick had prayed fervently that he wouldn’t be affected. When Dick had contemplated what would happen if Wally was affected, Bruce’s reaction had been what he would have expected. Bruce he had expected to grit his teeth and bear it, and then repress the entire experience while self-flagellating himself - in the non-fun way - while going about his business as if nothing had happened.
Nothing would happen if Bruce didn’t quit staring at the floor and let him get on with this. “Look, I realize you don’t want to do this-” he didn’t either, exactly, even if he used to have a crush on Bruce before Bruce stopped being Bruce and became Batman 24/7, “-but it has to be done, so let’s just do it.”
Giving a grunt and a sharp nod, Bruce spun on his heel and headed for the stairs. Dick spared a moment to hope that this wouldn’t turn out horribly. After all, they were apparently actually going to do this in a bed, instead of on the cots in the Batcave infirmary, like Dick had thought Bruce would go for.
Then again, maybe the cots would have been better; even with the bats and the echoes, there would have been no way Alfred could overhear them down there.
Dick frozen in horror halfway up the steps. Now he understood completely how Bruce felt.
Shaking off the shock, Dick quickened his pace and started silently thanking every deity he could think of by name that Alfred hadn’t been affected.
Because really, there was weird and then there was weird. Him having to have sex with his sort of pseudo-father figure was nothing on him having to have sex with his grandfather.
Ew.