End of the Year Rush (DC)
Title: End of the Year Rush
Author:
miss_synph
Pairing or Characters: Bruce/Jason
Fandom: DC
Rating: MA
Summary: They sneak away from the party only to have some fun of their own.
Contains: pretty vanilla sex, condom usage,
Disclaimer: The members of the Batfamily are owned by the big boys over at DC. If I had owned them, things would be a bit different...
One room down from Bruce’s office, the annual Wayne Enterprises Christmas party is in full swing.
The faintest of notes from the live band still playing for the crowd filters in through the ventilation system and serves as the only sound in the quiet room, aside from the clink of ice cubes against glass every time Bruce takes a sip.
They’ve been in the room for less than thirty minutes, but Bruce’s glass is almost empty and Jason is getting antsy.
The young man's deep voice soon cuts through the near silence.
“Is this the only reason you invited me,” he snarls as he paces around his father’s office like a caged lion, directing glares at the older man every so often. “I spent the whole fucking night watching you pretend to get shitfaced while you let bimbos hang all over you. I could have been out patrolling or getting stabbed in the fucking leg!”
He blows out a breath of air and drags his fingers through his hair, ruining the neat lines and causing the white of his fringe to hang in front of his eyes just a bit as the rest of his hair sticks up wildly in red spikes. “Anything would be better than having you ignore me. You wasted my time, boss.”
Bruce frowns and sets his glass down on top of his desk. He looks genuinely distressed and the motion he makes to get out of his plush office chair is less graceful than it would be normally. “Jason, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” It says something about how sincere Bruce is when he doesn't even instinctively reprimand Jason for cursing. The older man sighs softly before he frowns down at the almost empty glass.
Jason shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He takes the glass out of the older man’s hand and reaches for the bottle of good scotch. "Shit. I know you didn't mean to, boss," he says, splashing a generous amount of the amber-colored liquid in the glass before he raises it to his lips.
He savors the smooth burn and heat of the scotch longer than he should, drinking the stuff with long swallows only because he remembers how much Bruce gets a kick out of watching his throat work. He sets the glass down with a bit less care than he had intended and it nearly rolls right off of Bruce's desk.
They reach for it at the same time and when their fingers brush together, a spark jolts between them.
Jason lets Bruce set the glass upright as he fumbles with his tie and pastes a grin on his face.
When Bruce actually tenses up more instead of relaxing, Jason realizes that his smile must come off as more of a grimace. "Chill out, B," he says, leaning back over the top of the desk and stretching until his back pops. "I'm not all that pissed at you. Hell, I'm mostly over it now."
His hand goes back to his tie and he starts stroking the piece of red silk as he looks at Bruce's face and the way that the older man's eyebrows are drawn down over his eyes. "But the next time you invite me to one of these stupid parties, I'd like to see you for more than a few minutes when you're fishing shrimp out of some blonde's bustier."
One of Bruce's eyebrows goes up and there’s this moment where he’s looking up at Jason as though he doesn’t recognize the man in front of him and he’s trying to figure out if that’s a good or bad thing.
Jason holds up his hands and makes a face at the older man. "What'd I say? What'd I say?"
The smile that crosses Bruce's face somehow manages to be both tender and predatory at the same time and he rests one large hand on Jason's left knee, thumb stroking small circles into the skin through the fine fabric of his suit pants. "I didn't know you saw that," he admits. "You were watching me?"
"No shit," Jason blurts out. “I’m always watching you.” The liquor has loosened his tongue a bit and the words slip easily from his mouth as he reaches up to fuss with his tie again.
Anyone else would be fighting back a blush or stammering, but Jason has had practice at this; at faking nonchalance when his heart is all but flinging itself against his ribcage.
The thing with his tie is the only tell that is truly noticeable.
Bruce catches his hand and just holds it for a moment, keeping the younger man from playing with the knotted strip of silk at his throat. His hands are soft, but his grip is firm.
“Always?” The smile that curves up Bruce’s thin lips is more real than anything else that Jason has seen in months and he loses some of the tension in his limbs. Sometimes he wonders if Bruce really does give a damn about him and he starts to really fucking doubt things between them; starts to worry that Bruce isn’t playing for keeps.
And then Bruce gives him one of those smiles and maybe things aren’t perfect between them, but it sure fucking feels that way for a little while.
At the tone in Bruce’s voice, any other human being would be bright red, but Jason manages a cocky grin and a heavy lidded look that has left lesser men and women panting after him.
All Bruce does is lick his lips as a promise, and returns to rubbing at Jason’s knee. He widens the circle of his strokes until he’s moving his fingers over slick silk and scar tissue and it all blurs together into heat and sensation and before Jason knows it, his dick is hard and pressing against the front of his boxers.
And as always, Bruce doesn’t miss a fucking thing.
Both of his massive hands are on Jason’s thighs now and he squeezes with just enough pressure to make it impossible for Jason to forget exactly whose hands are on him. Bruce only has to curl his fingers against the silk keeping Jason away from him and Jason gets hit with a jolt of lust so hot and heady that he can almost taste it.
He inches forward over the top of the desk and spreads his legs slightly, just enough that Bruce can see exactly how much he is wanted.
Deft fingers quickly undo Jason’s pants and in the blink of an eye, Bruce‘s hand is on Jason’s cock and he’s got his thumb working the head mercilessly as he stares up at Jason as though he wants to devour the younger man bit by bit.
Bruce takes his time teasing Jason; stroking from the base of that straining hardness up to the precum smeared tip in the most random of patterns as he keeps the redhead far away from the razor sharp edge of desire that quickens the beat of Jason’s heart in his chest and makes his erection spit precum onto Bruce’s hand.
(They’re going to ruin the suit if they keep at it and when Alfred sees it later in the laundry, he’ll do that thing where he says something sarcastic and witty while reminding himself that he can kick all of their asses without breaking a sweat.)
The thought makes Jason laugh.
The squeeze of Bruce’s hand a few seconds later makes him yelp and his hands fly up to grip at what little of Bruce’s hair that he can. His hips thrust up in a fruitless bid for friction, touch… even a puff of air on the fucking tip would be fine.
Instead, Bruce pulls his hand away and sits back in his chair. His eyes practically burn with his hunger for Jason and he almost looks possessed. He raises his hand to his mouth and then -holding eye contact with Jason the entire time- he licks his fingers clean with long swipes of his tongue.
Jason groans and makes to reach for Bruce, to pull him into a deep kiss so that he can taste himself on the older man’s tongue and for a second, Bruce allows it.
He licks his way inside of Bruce’s generous mouth easily, making the most obscene sounding of noises as he uses his teeth to lightly score that muscle. He moves closer until he’s at risk of falling into Bruce’s chair and sending them both toppling to the ground and moans eagerly into his older lover’s mouth as hope makes his dick twitch.
When Bruce places a hand on his chest to hold him back, Jason actually growls at him.
“The fuck, B?” He crosses his arms over his chest, scowls, and tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice how fucking ridiculous he must look with his dick poking out of his pants like an obscene sign. “Quit being such a god damned tease, or-”
“I want to have you naked,” Bruce admits simply and those six words are all it takes to quiet Jason’s complaints and leave him biting back moan after moan as Bruce grabs for his tie and undoes the knot.
Jason’s jacket gets tossed somewhere over to the side and it’s going to be wrinkled as fuck when he forces himself to drag it back on later, but then Bruce’s fingers are working at the buttons at his collar and nothing else really matters because he’s so hard and every harsh breath that he takes in through his nose gets him the scent of Bruce’s expensive cologne mingling with his need.
He isn’t drooling... yet.
Bruce flings Jason’s tie somewhere off into the darkness of his office and then he affixes his mouth to the redhead’s throat.
Every button undone is followed by a kiss and a brush of fingers over scarred skin. Bruce isn’t even trying and he already has Jason panting after him and tugging at the lapels of his suit until he can try and get Bruce just as desperate for his touch as he is for the older man’s.
Arousal burns in Jason’s belly when he finally gets Bruce’s shirt and jacket off and all of that skin is bared just for him. Bruce’s scars are pretty awe inspiring, and Jason wants to feel them underneath his tongue.
Their pants come off next and they’re definitely rushing now.
Bruce’s dick is hard against Jason’s hip and the slick slide as their dicks just barely miss rubbing together makes Jason groan and clutch at Bruce’s shoulder blades.
The music from the band picks up and their movements follow suit; increasing urgency driving them to fumble as their bodies move together and sweat blossoms on their skin.
When Jason makes to reach for Bruce, to pull him closer, the older man shakes his head and places his lover’s hands flat on the top of the desk near the edge. He ducks his head and sucks a another mark to join the ones that already ring Jason’s throat, leaving his lover groaning due to a quick scrape of teeth.
The next place that his mouth lands makes Jason cry out and dig his nails into the expensive wood that serves to hold him up when his knees go weak.
Bruce’s tongue slides over the head of Jason’s dick in a slow swipe. When Jason groans and tries to grab at Bruce’s head with one hand, the older man presses it back down against the desk. He places his hands on Jason’s hip and practically inhales him.
No hesitation.
No hiding.
Jason has always thought that Bruce gives the best blowjobs in the multiverse and so far, he’s never had a reason to think otherwise.
One minute the redhead is ready to curse Bruce’s name and beg him not to stop and the next, there’s heat and wet pressure and his hips would be jerking forward if Bruce’s grip wasn’t so tight.
Jason doesn’t think he can take much more of this. Bruce’s throat squeezes him just enough and oh-
Fuck...
He cups the back of Bruce’s head in his hands, choosing to ignore the way that Bruce manages to growl around him because he needs to touch skin or flesh, needs to connect to something as Bruce tries to suck his brains out through his dick.
“Bruce...F-fuck!” He nearly yelps for the lightest scrape of teeth on his shaft and his hands shake as he traces the bulge that his cockhead makes when it pushes against the inside of Bruce’s cheek.
That gets him an almost wolfish look and Bruce sucks hard just because he can before he closes his eyes and concentrates on his work.
Jason moans loudly before he thinks to try and stuff his wrist into his mouth so that he has something to bite down on. Bruce is too good at this, too good at leading him up to that edge and making him want.
A little voice in his head points out that Bruce’s big hands aren’t gripping his hips anymore.
He can move if he wants to.
Oh does he want to...
Bruce makes the rudest little noises around Jason’s dick, slurping and groaning eagerly as he fucks his throat with that blood-flushed penis. He’s got one hand between Jason’s spread legs, on his sac, teasing him there and squeezing him with a rhythm that doesn’t match the one that he’s using on the other man’s penis.
It’s doing well towards driving Jason fucking insane.
The other hand cups Jason’s ass shamelessly, groping him and tormenting him with the brush of fingers down between his crack to toy with his hole.
Jason doesn’t know which pleasure to give into; doesn’t know which sensual torture he should subject himself to. Does he work his hips and fuck Bruce’s hot and hungry mouth? Or should he push backwards onto those fingers that are making him clench around nothing at all and wish for something more substantial?
When he glances down, he can see Bruce’s heavy dick arcing up towards his chest and he licks his lips.
He needs this.
He needs Bruce to fuck him and make him forget that he had hated the idea of coming to this party in the first fucking place.
“Can we fuck now?” He doesn’t mean for the question to come out so tentative, but all of the blood in his fucking body has sudden up and moved to take up residence in his dick and he’s not exactly firing all cylinders.
Hell... Who could think straight when they’re the object of Bruce’s desires and he has his hands or mouth all over them?
Jason shudders and his hips snap forward, driving his dick into Bruce’s throat as the older man plays him like he’s some kind of fucking instrument. “You feel so good, B,” Jason groans out as he gets one of his hands back in Bruce’s hair. He can’t get enough hair for his fingers to pull properly, but he strokes what little hair that he can get between his fingers.
Bruce licks him slowly as he pulls off of his dick, mouthing at that saliva-slicked piece of flesh until Jason is all but squirming and clawing his shoulders to shreds.
He’s so close to begging, but Bruce doesn’t even give him the time to get out another moan before he spins him around and presses him face first onto the desk. When Jason shifts, he can feel the heat of Bruce’s body against his own. He can feel the rub and scratch of Bruce’s body hair against the backs of his thighs and it shouldn’t get him hotter than he is, but it does and his dick leaks precum over the top of the desk.
Jason hears Bruce fumbling around in his desk drawers looking for the lube and the condoms and he hopes to god that he finds some because the wallet with his stuff in it is nowhere nearby and if he has to wait any longer, he’s going to make a mess of Bruce’s desk.
Well... an even bigger mess than the one that he’s already in the progress of making.
Bruce gives him two fingers at once and there’s that burn that makes him waver between rocking down on those thick fingers and cursing loudly. Bruce is so very good with his hands and Jason can’t stop rocking back and fucking himself open until Bruce thinks that he’s ready for a third.
“God, Bruce, stop being such a fucking tease-”
Jason’s head drops forward with a low thud and his fingers scrabble to gain purchase on the slick wood surface as Bruce pulls his fingers out faster than he should and-
He’s being spread open and speared by Bruce’s monster dick and breathing seems optional when every press of that beast into his body makes him choke on a near endless stream of moans as he works his body back. There’s this kind of tension, a kind of ache that’s his body’s way of telling him that Bruce has managed to be almost “too much” and yet fit and fill him perfectly.
Bruce bites at the back of back of Jason’s neck as he pumps his hips sharply. He needs the contact. Every inch of his body needs to be against Jason’s own body.
Hip to ass...
Fingers to groin...
Teeth to raise even more bruises on that pale skin...
Bruce wants Jason so fucking much and it shows in the way that he works his body. His hand is hard where it grips at the lean muscle that covers his younger lover’s hip and he crowds Jason up against the desk so that he can breathe it in; his lover’s scent of smoke and gun oil.
He’s gone so long without it that now, it’s the only scent that he ever really craves.
The noises they make together are vulgar, from the sound of their groans spiraling up to the ceiling to the slap of Bruce’s balls against Jason’s ass.
Jason’s breath catches in his throat when Bruce starts to stroke him properly and he shakes because he’s so not going to last much longer with Bruce doing him like this and-
Bruce shifts his hips just a tiny fraction of an inch with his next thrust and it’s all over for them.
It feels like the worst kind of cliché that they come within seconds of each other, but Jason can’t even bother to think about anything aside from how it feels to have Bruce’s massive body bearing him down onto the desk as he pumps his hips slowly as the end of his orgasm makes his limbs heavy.
As they lay there half on and half off the desk, bodies crushed together and made slick and sticky with sweat and other things, the music dies down for a moment in the room next door and the sound of cheers and raucous noise fills the air.
Jason laughs at that and reaches back to shove at Bruce until the older man takes the hint and slides out of him.
The second that he can, Jason turns and kisses Bruce deeply, licking at his lover’s mouth as though he can search out his own taste on the other man’s tongue. When he pulls back, the smile on his face is wide.
“Merry Christmas, B,” he says as he traces his fingers over the scars that streak his lover’s chest. “Thanks for the gift.”
Author:
miss_synph
Pairing or Characters: Bruce/Jason
Fandom: DC
Rating: MA
Summary: They sneak away from the party only to have some fun of their own.
Contains: pretty vanilla sex, condom usage,
Disclaimer: The members of the Batfamily are owned by the big boys over at DC. If I had owned them, things would be a bit different...
One room down from Bruce’s office, the annual Wayne Enterprises Christmas party is in full swing.
The faintest of notes from the live band still playing for the crowd filters in through the ventilation system and serves as the only sound in the quiet room, aside from the clink of ice cubes against glass every time Bruce takes a sip.
They’ve been in the room for less than thirty minutes, but Bruce’s glass is almost empty and Jason is getting antsy.
The young man's deep voice soon cuts through the near silence.
“Is this the only reason you invited me,” he snarls as he paces around his father’s office like a caged lion, directing glares at the older man every so often. “I spent the whole fucking night watching you pretend to get shitfaced while you let bimbos hang all over you. I could have been out patrolling or getting stabbed in the fucking leg!”
He blows out a breath of air and drags his fingers through his hair, ruining the neat lines and causing the white of his fringe to hang in front of his eyes just a bit as the rest of his hair sticks up wildly in red spikes. “Anything would be better than having you ignore me. You wasted my time, boss.”
Bruce frowns and sets his glass down on top of his desk. He looks genuinely distressed and the motion he makes to get out of his plush office chair is less graceful than it would be normally. “Jason, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” It says something about how sincere Bruce is when he doesn't even instinctively reprimand Jason for cursing. The older man sighs softly before he frowns down at the almost empty glass.
Jason shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He takes the glass out of the older man’s hand and reaches for the bottle of good scotch. "Shit. I know you didn't mean to, boss," he says, splashing a generous amount of the amber-colored liquid in the glass before he raises it to his lips.
He savors the smooth burn and heat of the scotch longer than he should, drinking the stuff with long swallows only because he remembers how much Bruce gets a kick out of watching his throat work. He sets the glass down with a bit less care than he had intended and it nearly rolls right off of Bruce's desk.
They reach for it at the same time and when their fingers brush together, a spark jolts between them.
Jason lets Bruce set the glass upright as he fumbles with his tie and pastes a grin on his face.
When Bruce actually tenses up more instead of relaxing, Jason realizes that his smile must come off as more of a grimace. "Chill out, B," he says, leaning back over the top of the desk and stretching until his back pops. "I'm not all that pissed at you. Hell, I'm mostly over it now."
His hand goes back to his tie and he starts stroking the piece of red silk as he looks at Bruce's face and the way that the older man's eyebrows are drawn down over his eyes. "But the next time you invite me to one of these stupid parties, I'd like to see you for more than a few minutes when you're fishing shrimp out of some blonde's bustier."
One of Bruce's eyebrows goes up and there’s this moment where he’s looking up at Jason as though he doesn’t recognize the man in front of him and he’s trying to figure out if that’s a good or bad thing.
Jason holds up his hands and makes a face at the older man. "What'd I say? What'd I say?"
The smile that crosses Bruce's face somehow manages to be both tender and predatory at the same time and he rests one large hand on Jason's left knee, thumb stroking small circles into the skin through the fine fabric of his suit pants. "I didn't know you saw that," he admits. "You were watching me?"
"No shit," Jason blurts out. “I’m always watching you.” The liquor has loosened his tongue a bit and the words slip easily from his mouth as he reaches up to fuss with his tie again.
Anyone else would be fighting back a blush or stammering, but Jason has had practice at this; at faking nonchalance when his heart is all but flinging itself against his ribcage.
The thing with his tie is the only tell that is truly noticeable.
Bruce catches his hand and just holds it for a moment, keeping the younger man from playing with the knotted strip of silk at his throat. His hands are soft, but his grip is firm.
“Always?” The smile that curves up Bruce’s thin lips is more real than anything else that Jason has seen in months and he loses some of the tension in his limbs. Sometimes he wonders if Bruce really does give a damn about him and he starts to really fucking doubt things between them; starts to worry that Bruce isn’t playing for keeps.
And then Bruce gives him one of those smiles and maybe things aren’t perfect between them, but it sure fucking feels that way for a little while.
At the tone in Bruce’s voice, any other human being would be bright red, but Jason manages a cocky grin and a heavy lidded look that has left lesser men and women panting after him.
All Bruce does is lick his lips as a promise, and returns to rubbing at Jason’s knee. He widens the circle of his strokes until he’s moving his fingers over slick silk and scar tissue and it all blurs together into heat and sensation and before Jason knows it, his dick is hard and pressing against the front of his boxers.
And as always, Bruce doesn’t miss a fucking thing.
Both of his massive hands are on Jason’s thighs now and he squeezes with just enough pressure to make it impossible for Jason to forget exactly whose hands are on him. Bruce only has to curl his fingers against the silk keeping Jason away from him and Jason gets hit with a jolt of lust so hot and heady that he can almost taste it.
He inches forward over the top of the desk and spreads his legs slightly, just enough that Bruce can see exactly how much he is wanted.
Deft fingers quickly undo Jason’s pants and in the blink of an eye, Bruce‘s hand is on Jason’s cock and he’s got his thumb working the head mercilessly as he stares up at Jason as though he wants to devour the younger man bit by bit.
Bruce takes his time teasing Jason; stroking from the base of that straining hardness up to the precum smeared tip in the most random of patterns as he keeps the redhead far away from the razor sharp edge of desire that quickens the beat of Jason’s heart in his chest and makes his erection spit precum onto Bruce’s hand.
(They’re going to ruin the suit if they keep at it and when Alfred sees it later in the laundry, he’ll do that thing where he says something sarcastic and witty while reminding himself that he can kick all of their asses without breaking a sweat.)
The thought makes Jason laugh.
The squeeze of Bruce’s hand a few seconds later makes him yelp and his hands fly up to grip at what little of Bruce’s hair that he can. His hips thrust up in a fruitless bid for friction, touch… even a puff of air on the fucking tip would be fine.
Instead, Bruce pulls his hand away and sits back in his chair. His eyes practically burn with his hunger for Jason and he almost looks possessed. He raises his hand to his mouth and then -holding eye contact with Jason the entire time- he licks his fingers clean with long swipes of his tongue.
Jason groans and makes to reach for Bruce, to pull him into a deep kiss so that he can taste himself on the older man’s tongue and for a second, Bruce allows it.
He licks his way inside of Bruce’s generous mouth easily, making the most obscene sounding of noises as he uses his teeth to lightly score that muscle. He moves closer until he’s at risk of falling into Bruce’s chair and sending them both toppling to the ground and moans eagerly into his older lover’s mouth as hope makes his dick twitch.
When Bruce places a hand on his chest to hold him back, Jason actually growls at him.
“The fuck, B?” He crosses his arms over his chest, scowls, and tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice how fucking ridiculous he must look with his dick poking out of his pants like an obscene sign. “Quit being such a god damned tease, or-”
“I want to have you naked,” Bruce admits simply and those six words are all it takes to quiet Jason’s complaints and leave him biting back moan after moan as Bruce grabs for his tie and undoes the knot.
Jason’s jacket gets tossed somewhere over to the side and it’s going to be wrinkled as fuck when he forces himself to drag it back on later, but then Bruce’s fingers are working at the buttons at his collar and nothing else really matters because he’s so hard and every harsh breath that he takes in through his nose gets him the scent of Bruce’s expensive cologne mingling with his need.
He isn’t drooling... yet.
Bruce flings Jason’s tie somewhere off into the darkness of his office and then he affixes his mouth to the redhead’s throat.
Every button undone is followed by a kiss and a brush of fingers over scarred skin. Bruce isn’t even trying and he already has Jason panting after him and tugging at the lapels of his suit until he can try and get Bruce just as desperate for his touch as he is for the older man’s.
Arousal burns in Jason’s belly when he finally gets Bruce’s shirt and jacket off and all of that skin is bared just for him. Bruce’s scars are pretty awe inspiring, and Jason wants to feel them underneath his tongue.
Their pants come off next and they’re definitely rushing now.
Bruce’s dick is hard against Jason’s hip and the slick slide as their dicks just barely miss rubbing together makes Jason groan and clutch at Bruce’s shoulder blades.
The music from the band picks up and their movements follow suit; increasing urgency driving them to fumble as their bodies move together and sweat blossoms on their skin.
When Jason makes to reach for Bruce, to pull him closer, the older man shakes his head and places his lover’s hands flat on the top of the desk near the edge. He ducks his head and sucks a another mark to join the ones that already ring Jason’s throat, leaving his lover groaning due to a quick scrape of teeth.
The next place that his mouth lands makes Jason cry out and dig his nails into the expensive wood that serves to hold him up when his knees go weak.
Bruce’s tongue slides over the head of Jason’s dick in a slow swipe. When Jason groans and tries to grab at Bruce’s head with one hand, the older man presses it back down against the desk. He places his hands on Jason’s hip and practically inhales him.
No hesitation.
No hiding.
Jason has always thought that Bruce gives the best blowjobs in the multiverse and so far, he’s never had a reason to think otherwise.
One minute the redhead is ready to curse Bruce’s name and beg him not to stop and the next, there’s heat and wet pressure and his hips would be jerking forward if Bruce’s grip wasn’t so tight.
Jason doesn’t think he can take much more of this. Bruce’s throat squeezes him just enough and oh-
Fuck...
He cups the back of Bruce’s head in his hands, choosing to ignore the way that Bruce manages to growl around him because he needs to touch skin or flesh, needs to connect to something as Bruce tries to suck his brains out through his dick.
“Bruce...F-fuck!” He nearly yelps for the lightest scrape of teeth on his shaft and his hands shake as he traces the bulge that his cockhead makes when it pushes against the inside of Bruce’s cheek.
That gets him an almost wolfish look and Bruce sucks hard just because he can before he closes his eyes and concentrates on his work.
Jason moans loudly before he thinks to try and stuff his wrist into his mouth so that he has something to bite down on. Bruce is too good at this, too good at leading him up to that edge and making him want.
A little voice in his head points out that Bruce’s big hands aren’t gripping his hips anymore.
He can move if he wants to.
Oh does he want to...
Bruce makes the rudest little noises around Jason’s dick, slurping and groaning eagerly as he fucks his throat with that blood-flushed penis. He’s got one hand between Jason’s spread legs, on his sac, teasing him there and squeezing him with a rhythm that doesn’t match the one that he’s using on the other man’s penis.
It’s doing well towards driving Jason fucking insane.
The other hand cups Jason’s ass shamelessly, groping him and tormenting him with the brush of fingers down between his crack to toy with his hole.
Jason doesn’t know which pleasure to give into; doesn’t know which sensual torture he should subject himself to. Does he work his hips and fuck Bruce’s hot and hungry mouth? Or should he push backwards onto those fingers that are making him clench around nothing at all and wish for something more substantial?
When he glances down, he can see Bruce’s heavy dick arcing up towards his chest and he licks his lips.
He needs this.
He needs Bruce to fuck him and make him forget that he had hated the idea of coming to this party in the first fucking place.
“Can we fuck now?” He doesn’t mean for the question to come out so tentative, but all of the blood in his fucking body has sudden up and moved to take up residence in his dick and he’s not exactly firing all cylinders.
Hell... Who could think straight when they’re the object of Bruce’s desires and he has his hands or mouth all over them?
Jason shudders and his hips snap forward, driving his dick into Bruce’s throat as the older man plays him like he’s some kind of fucking instrument. “You feel so good, B,” Jason groans out as he gets one of his hands back in Bruce’s hair. He can’t get enough hair for his fingers to pull properly, but he strokes what little hair that he can get between his fingers.
Bruce licks him slowly as he pulls off of his dick, mouthing at that saliva-slicked piece of flesh until Jason is all but squirming and clawing his shoulders to shreds.
He’s so close to begging, but Bruce doesn’t even give him the time to get out another moan before he spins him around and presses him face first onto the desk. When Jason shifts, he can feel the heat of Bruce’s body against his own. He can feel the rub and scratch of Bruce’s body hair against the backs of his thighs and it shouldn’t get him hotter than he is, but it does and his dick leaks precum over the top of the desk.
Jason hears Bruce fumbling around in his desk drawers looking for the lube and the condoms and he hopes to god that he finds some because the wallet with his stuff in it is nowhere nearby and if he has to wait any longer, he’s going to make a mess of Bruce’s desk.
Well... an even bigger mess than the one that he’s already in the progress of making.
Bruce gives him two fingers at once and there’s that burn that makes him waver between rocking down on those thick fingers and cursing loudly. Bruce is so very good with his hands and Jason can’t stop rocking back and fucking himself open until Bruce thinks that he’s ready for a third.
“God, Bruce, stop being such a fucking tease-”
Jason’s head drops forward with a low thud and his fingers scrabble to gain purchase on the slick wood surface as Bruce pulls his fingers out faster than he should and-
He’s being spread open and speared by Bruce’s monster dick and breathing seems optional when every press of that beast into his body makes him choke on a near endless stream of moans as he works his body back. There’s this kind of tension, a kind of ache that’s his body’s way of telling him that Bruce has managed to be almost “too much” and yet fit and fill him perfectly.
Bruce bites at the back of back of Jason’s neck as he pumps his hips sharply. He needs the contact. Every inch of his body needs to be against Jason’s own body.
Hip to ass...
Fingers to groin...
Teeth to raise even more bruises on that pale skin...
Bruce wants Jason so fucking much and it shows in the way that he works his body. His hand is hard where it grips at the lean muscle that covers his younger lover’s hip and he crowds Jason up against the desk so that he can breathe it in; his lover’s scent of smoke and gun oil.
He’s gone so long without it that now, it’s the only scent that he ever really craves.
The noises they make together are vulgar, from the sound of their groans spiraling up to the ceiling to the slap of Bruce’s balls against Jason’s ass.
Jason’s breath catches in his throat when Bruce starts to stroke him properly and he shakes because he’s so not going to last much longer with Bruce doing him like this and-
Bruce shifts his hips just a tiny fraction of an inch with his next thrust and it’s all over for them.
It feels like the worst kind of cliché that they come within seconds of each other, but Jason can’t even bother to think about anything aside from how it feels to have Bruce’s massive body bearing him down onto the desk as he pumps his hips slowly as the end of his orgasm makes his limbs heavy.
As they lay there half on and half off the desk, bodies crushed together and made slick and sticky with sweat and other things, the music dies down for a moment in the room next door and the sound of cheers and raucous noise fills the air.
Jason laughs at that and reaches back to shove at Bruce until the older man takes the hint and slides out of him.
The second that he can, Jason turns and kisses Bruce deeply, licking at his lover’s mouth as though he can search out his own taste on the other man’s tongue. When he pulls back, the smile on his face is wide.
“Merry Christmas, B,” he says as he traces his fingers over the scars that streak his lover’s chest. “Thanks for the gift.”