Porn Fic (Dick/Jason)
Title: Regrets 2.0
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Dick, Jason. Some Alfred.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst with humour? Humour with angst?
Warnings: Jason’s potty mouth and porny goodness
Summary: Jason has been dosed with sex pheromones. Tim told him to go molest Dick.
Word Count: 4,442
A/N: This IS the story I set out to write. Finally. I wanted to write the sequel to Duct Tape Use #41 that ladyblkrose requested. But rather then porn I ended up writing Regrets 1.0. It wasn’t what I was going for, but demanded to be written. So I did. Then I buckled down and did this one, the 2.0 version
Tired doesn’t even begin to describe it as Dick drags himself out of the car, Alfred having gone ahead to make a snack presumably. Give him a gang war any day of the week. They are less work than playing nice with the socialites at fund raisers. Less dangerous too. Between the debutants, the mothers that seem to conveniently forget that they are married and the grandmothers that think he’s “such a nice boy” Dick is more than ready for a nice long soak in the bath. Maybe then his cheeks will stop hurting.
Both sets.
He hears a whisper of sound and then there are hands. He doesn’t think. It doesn’t matter that he’s in the manor and none of the alarms have sounded. It’s an attack and he reacts appropriately. By launching the owner of those hands over his shoulder and down the hallway. As the person is still in the air, he realizes who it is.
“Jason?!” What’s going on? Jay has been back home for four months now and behaving. Rough housing is what happens in spars only. So why was he trying to…um…do whatever THAT had been?
The former Red Hood goes with it and rolls out easily, coming back up to his feet. Is that expression really a moue? Cautiously Dick begins walking over to the man. “Jay? Little Wing?”
A hand goes to Jason’s shoulder as the taller vigilante just stands there, watching him. “Come on Jay, talk to me.” Something isn’t right. He’s still wearing the red domino as well as the rest of his uniform, which is absolutely against Alfred’s rules about house etiquette; suits stay in the Cave, the manor is for Family, not the Mission.
But Jason isn’t looking at him. He’s looking down between them. No not between them. A point on Dick’s thigh? That only barely has time to register when he’s being bodily pushed against the wall and held there, first by strong hands, then by the kiss Jason has pressed to his lips. And. Tongue! A very insistent tongue pushing in, against the barrier of Dick’s teeth.
Opening his mouth to ask what is going on is a mistake. The tongue is in, claiming him, even as one of those hands push into Dick’s hair and holds on. Firm, not painfully. If Dick is honest with himself, it IS pretty nice. But it’s Jason! And Jason doesn’t do this with family! Oh sure there had been some hints, some flirting. But he’s seen Jason flirt with valet drivers. It’s just part of who he is; the guy can be sex on a stick when he tries. Or even half tries.
He’s more than half trying now. Jason is like a man possessed. Dick moans into the kiss then more so when the man’s other hand is pushing up under his dress shirt, looking for his nipple. Tweaking. And that sends an electric jolt straight to Dick’s groin. Still, he needs to get himself under control because this isn’t right.
Pulling back out of the kiss as much as he can, Dick reaches up and flips up the domino’s lenses so that he can see Jason’s eyes. The pupils of which are big as saucers. “You’re drugged?!”
Jason is licking his lips, watching Dick’s own. “Mmmm, yeah. A femme fatal wannabe got lucky, sprayed me with some pheromone shit. Got the Spore, too.” But before he explains anything more about what happened to Damian, he’s back to kissing Dick within an inch of his life.
Those debutants have nothing on the determined vigilante currently manhandling him. And he has to fight hard to keep his mind from giving in and shutting down. Dick pulls back again, and when that’s only partially successful he bites the man’s lower lip sharply. That gets his attention. Dick pushes on the other’s shoulders.
“Jay! Stop! Tell me what’s going on,” Dick demands even as the rest of him really wants to get back to that mind-blowing kiss.
“Tim sent me from the Cave. Said I had to let him work. And now you’re here so….” Dick ducks under Jason’s arms as the man tries to catch him again, lips puckered and ready. Well crap.
“And what about Damian?!” That’s right, focus. He’s supposed to be the responsible one here, time to prove it.
“Tim has him. He’s fine. Well mostly.” Jason is STILL trying to get his hands on Dick, even as he answers the question. “The Replacement is working on a counter agent. The standard stuff didn’t put much of a dent in the effects,” he volunteers. Which tells Dick a lot.
Okay. Tim is dealing with Damian, which means he needs to handle Jason. At least until his little brother can whip up a chemical solution. And he knows how to handle this. It’s just that. “Jason. Are you sure about this? I mean I can knock you out, instead.”
The second Robin snorts. “Goldie *I* could knock myself out with my erection! Yes I’m sure. And as you’re so nicely available, I’m nominating your sweet ass for the job!”
“My….You’re what?” Dick squeaks as he realizes that Jason expects to be topping. “Oooooooh no. No way.”
A second snort. “I have talked to Roy. And Garth. And Babs. And Kory. Hell I have vids as evidence! You are so totally a bottom!” And that grin is a very wet thing full of many dirty promises. Dick gulps because, well.
“I could put you in drag,” Jason offers. “Well I think I could. I’m not sure I can wait a whole hell of a lot longer,” the man admits. And how the hell had he backed Dick into a corner?! Then it really doesn’t matter because those large hands are on him, touching, seeking. Finding in the best way possible. And the kiss. He has to moan almost continuously into the kiss. It’s hard to remember to breathe. It’s hard to remember to want to breathe. To want anything other than his brother’s attentions which is something he hasn’t let himself think about.
He’d told himself that it was enough to just have Jason home. That the flirting hadn’t meant anything. That it still doesn’t. Except that he knows that‘s not true. If Jason hadn’t wanted to do it this way he WOULD have knocked himself out. It’s not like this is the first time any of them have been in this situation. Sex pollen exposure and the like is positively a rite of passage for Robin after all.
But. He needs to know.
Strong hands are pushing Jason off him. Even if only by a few inches. “Jay….Tell me that you want this. REALLY want it, Little Wing.” That you won’t be sorry in the morning, hangs in the air between them.
“Since I was 13 you idiot!” Jason almost snarls. “But there was always too much shit going on. With you. With Bruce. With me. “ And yes, Dick can see all that. The three of them had been quite a mess as they failed royally at being able to deal with each other. Then Jason had died. And when he came back, it was all a hundred times worse. But now.
“I swear to god if you try to make me think more, I’m gonna beat you, tie you up and ride you,” Jason threatens and given the look on his face he means it.
“Um….I’m voting that we omit the beating part.”
That gets him a very wolfish grin. And the realization that he’s actually agreeing to what Jason so obviously wants. Oh no. Oh dear! That’s just not. But it’s Jason who is family and very much in need.
Dick glances at the man’s crotch without thinking about it and his jaw almost drops. The other very obviously isn’t wearing a jock. Of course he’s seen Jason in the showers on occasion but he never thought…never paid attention. The end result is that his brain seems to be short circuiting on him as he can’t make sound come out of his opening and closing mouth, which makes him look like a landed fish.
Sometime between one blink and another, Jason had pressed close again and is moving his hands up under the back of Dick’s shirt. Before he can protest, his younger brother is scratching him to either side of his spine with those short finger nails of his. The expression “flipping a switch” comes to mind randomly as Dick moans and leans against Jason. He finally admits to himself where this is going.
The acrobat leans up, his pink lips parted, offering. It’s an offer that’s taken up readily as Jason claims his mouth and is kissing deep, just that fast. Tongue. Firm and desperate as it invades, no, possesses his mouth. A little moan escapes the man. Both of them? Possibly. Figuring that out would require too much thought. Right now he wants to just be here in the moment; because it might all change once Jason is no longer under the influence.
Hands are on him. On his hips, picking him up and that is the wall against his back. Dick reflexively wraps his legs about Jason’s waist. He’s already resigned himself to this tux being a write-off. The kiss is endless and he sure that he could drown in it. Some part of his mind is vaguely away that Jason is walking them somewhere. Hopefully somewhere with a bed. Because kinky sex is fine and all, but he really doesn’t want rug rash tonight.
Then he’s being thrown. And bounces on a mattress. A quick look around shows that they are in one of the guest suites on the second floor. Which. He doesn’t remember being carried up the stairs. Is he getting infected by some of the pheromones still lingering on Jay? No, that wouldn’t be it. Tim would have put him in the decontamination shower first thing on entering the Cave. It has to be something else. Maybe that fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach.
So much pain, so much time lost. And yes, Dick does blame himself. If he’d been on earth rather than off with the Titans, maybe he could have stopped Babs from being shot. Or Jay from dying.
Those thoughts are driven out of his mind as Jason has somehow managed to get Dick’s belt off and is currently pushing his hangs inside the tented pants. The touch is hot, electric, and Dick has to push up into it, croon as he feels a calloused thumb on the swollen head of his penis. Then the hold tightens a bit too much.
“Whoa, Jay, ease up.”
Jason actually looks both apologetic and downright HUNGRY. Then he’s obviously thinking (and shouldn’t there be smoke coming out of his ears for that? Maybe the sound of a hamster wheel grinding away?) something through. The tip of his tongue comes out as he plays for time, and that thumb resumes playing with Dick’s dick.
“You’re saying I need some self-restraint?” is the odd question from the second Robin. Dick nods cautiously, mindful of how vulnerable he is at that moment. The hand lets go and Jason backs away, undoing the pants of his uniform. “Fine, then you need to suck me off. Now. Cuz I gotta cum one way or the other.”
Dick rolls his eyes and gets off the bed. He reaches out to push Jason so that he’s sitting on the opulent silk duvet. “You always were such a charmer, Little Wing,” Dick says with an amused snort. Except it’s not that amusing. Jason’s member is swollen to the point of being purple and, well damn. He’s almost afraid to touch it, for fear of hurting his brother.
A look at the desperation and hope on the other’s face convinces him that it has to be this way. He leans in and can’t help pausing to breathe deeply, smelling the maleness that is all Jay. It’s intoxicating in its own right. There is something very wrong with the universe that it has to happen under these circumstances.
Covering his teeth with his lips, Dick goes down. Taking the man in to the root in one go, relaxing his throat to accept the massive length. For a moment he just holds it there, trying to make a game plan. Which is meaningless when strong hands grasp his head as Jason starts fucking his mouth. There is no tenderness, no art. It’s an action of pure need, but Dick can go with that. He lets Jason take control and do what it is he needs to retain whatever vestiges of sanity he has left. It’s a real effort not to gag and choke around the frantically thrusting monster, something that would have been impossible if it went on for long, but it doesn’t. Jason doesn’t make it to ten thrusts before he’s coming hard. And Dick really is choking, fighting to pull off and then getting shot in the face by another spurt of cum.
Jason is absolutely silent until it’s over, then he groans, long and low, sounding almost like a wounded animal, rather than a man experiencing an afterglow. Dick just has to climb up and pull Jason down on the bed, holding him, petting the sweaty hair. “Shhhhh. You’re good. We’re good. It’ll be okay.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” comes the heartfelt reply. Then Jason is turning in his arms and grinning at him. If they were in a dark alley, Dick would seriously be thinking of running for his life. But they aren’t and yes, there’s a hand down his pants again. “Now that I can think,” Jason purrs (purrs?!) at him, “I’m really going to enjoy this.”
Dick is about to ask what the man means when the hand disappears form his pants and he’ being tossed, turned on his stomach. He heart beats wildly and he can admit that he’s nervous. No, he’s made his choice, he wants this and not just to help Jason out. But there is one minor issue. “Jay! We need lube or this isn’t going to happen,” Dick warns in a firm voice.
A scraping sound. He turns to see the other looking through the very empty night stands and giving a frustrated growl before slamming the drawers. “Don’t move!” is the growled order. Dick turns enough to see Jason dashing out of the room…with his still very hard penis hang out of his open pants. The acrobat winces and sends a prayer to whatever gods are listening that Alfred is NOT going to see that.
It’s only a matter of moments before Jason is back and Dick is NOT going to think about where he got the liter tube of ky jelly. Or how much they will likely end up using. He smiles encouragingly and moves to get up so that he can strip off, something he should have done while Jason was on his search.
Except that he’s no sooner on his feet then Jason is pushing him back on the bed, growling possessively. As he’s trying to process this, those large hands are pulling the clothes off of Dick, and not all that carefully. There is the occasional rip and the cuff links go zinging off to parts unknown.
He’s naked in an alarmingly short amount of time. But Jason is not, other than his open pants and the monster sticking out of it. And that is honestly a problem. A big problem because Dick wants to see, to feel everything that is his younger brother. The boy who died and came back a tormented damaged man. It’s still there under the surface and Dick wants to make it better, he’s always wanted to do that, even though he knows it’s not something he can do. And this isn’t a trashy romance novel. Sex will not heal all those hurts, but it might open the door a crack. It might let them see what could be if they are willing to try. It might.
It might be the worst idea of the decade.
Dick is reaching for Jason even as his thoughts and fears seem to take over. He has to do this. On so many levels. His hands are almost to Jason’s shirt when strong hands engulf his wrists and push him back down on the bed. There are five ways to get out of this position, but Dick uses none, he just smiles at the man above him. “I’m not going anywhere, Jay,” he assures him, looking at the wild eyes under the domino. “I just need you to get naked. Do that for me?”
That tongue is coming out again, licking Jason’s lips as he watches Dick and apparently debates the merits of his words. If he’d actually heard them. No, he did, because he’s letting go and standing up, but still LOOMING over Dick; ready to pounce if the acrobat tries to move. It’s oddly endearing.
Then Jason is working his uniform off. There is no finesse to it, no seduction. It’s all about the raw need to get down to business. Except that Jason doesn’t jump him as the boxers come off. Instead he’s reaching for the lube, dumping it on his fingers and *looking* at Dick like a starving man does a royal banquet.
“Um, this is probably the point where I tell you it’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy, let alone on the receiving end,” Dick says, not wanting to admit how nervous he is. He can’t take his eyes off that monster, which is more red then purple now, but still impressively hard. It will probably remain so for at least four more orgasms, if the pheromones are anything like Ivy’s pollen.
Maybe it’s not like the pollen, it could last longer. Or shorter. And isn’t Tim working on a counter agent? Did he really want Tim coming in while his bothers were being all hot and sweaty? He shudders, and carefully pushes that thought aside because no. It’s not about him, or what would embarrass him, it’s about Jason, about Little Wing needing their help.
Whatever it takes.
Jason is smiling at him. Had he seen the shiver? Of course he had. And it seems to have made him all the hotter. The man kneels on the bed, holding his slicked hand up, making it real obvious. “Show me that flexibility, Goldie.” The other hand is moving to push at Dick’s inner thigh out and up.
That. He has to smile even as a part of him cringes at the nickname. It’s part of who Jason is. Sometimes it’s used as slam against him and other times it’s an endearment or as close to one as the crass second Robin is capable of. Honestly, he really does like the latter, it shows a chink in the that street-tough armour of his.
He spread his legs pulling them up and out, exposing himself for whatever Jason has in mind. It’s only a heartbeat before the fingers are stroking his cleft, actually caressing. It’s a tenderness he never would have expected of Jason, certainly not in this situation! But it’s real, it’s happening and that smile gets a little bigger, and a lot warmer. Not wetter, that belongs to Jason, who is sticking his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates hard. Then the tip of one finger is pressing on his tight pucker. In. It’s an incredible tease, which means that Dick can’t help but pant.
“Jaybird….” There is a plea to the nickname, something he can’t define, but Jason seems to understand. That one finger is pushing in, slowly. Now Jason is panting as well. “I won’t break….” Which of course is in contrast to what he’d said moments ago but, it’s true. Hopefully.
“Yeah, but I might. ‘sides, Daddy Bat will get mad if you can’t patrol tomorrow.” It’s a joke. Of course it’s a joke, bit Dick groans and not in a good way.
“Are you TRYING to kill the mood?!” he demands and then grunts as a second finger joins the first. Fast. And that is a LOT for his poor hole; it’s not even close to what’s to come. “Hey!”
“Just trying to get us back on track.” There is no trace of an apology in the words. In the next moment he’s not thinking about anything other than the way those fingers are MOVING. Pumping only to stop as Jason begins to work Dick’s prostate mercilessly. Are those crooning sounds really coming from him?
Third finger, but its okay, his body is tight but ready, happy to accept the abuse that will be incredible. That is incredible, because it’s Jason and no matter what happens in the “morning” Dick will remember. He will remember the look of raw need and want, the feel of his own.
Out. Jason pulls out and it feels like the emptiness will swallow him whole. He lets go of his calves and reaches for Jason, sitting up a little. The large hands on his wrists again, pushing them back to the bed as Jason covers him and he can feel the swollen head nudging his tight entrance. Dick gasps a little as he smiles, offering, welcoming, and needing Jason to see that. To know it.
He’s keening as Jason holds on and pushes in. And IN. So hot, so deep. His face pulls in an expression of amazed anguish. Jason has him, holds him. Kiss. Lips, throat and that is the sweetest bite to his neck, the very white teeth worrying pale flesh. Still he’s pushing in and Dick can’t see. Yet he can, with all of himself. Jason is trembling with the effort to control himself, to not hurt. Not that way.
Dick’s hands flex in Jason’s grasp but they are being held, pinned and he can’t-won’t!-do anything about it. But there are other options. Like undulating his body, using his suppleness to work the slick length invading him. Giving. And then getting as Jason’s eyes flash open and the heat in them could put Superman to shame.
Jason moves and everything stops except for the feeling that just consumes him, traveling from his ass to his spine to his cock, setting every nerve on fire and leaving him begging. Not to stop. Never that, not even as it feels like he can’t possibly take any more. He will, he has to. Wants to. Because he can. For the worst reason possible but it’s still a gift.
The drag out isn’t slow at all, nor the thrust in. Dick’s long legs wrap about Jason’s waist, pulling himself up, holding them close even as the other grinds him into the mattress with a single-minded determination. The sounds they make as they move together, as Jason cusses him out and Dick begs for more, for him not to leave, those will stay with him all his days.
Up. Jason is on the bed, standing up, over Dick, dragging the acrobat with him and thrusting DOWN. But the bed has too much give. Dick is back down and empty! When…
No, he’s over the edge to the bed, knees on the thick carpeting, stomach on the comforter. Rough hands are forcing his legs apart and then he’s screaming as Jason pushes in hard and fast. Screaming for more, for the way those big hands are gripping his hips and moving him. He’s going to have bruises and Dick can’t help be feel like he’s won badges of honour.
The “war” isn’t even close to over. This is just the first skirmish and it’s spiralling him higher and higher. Closer to that wonderful point of bliss that is so near, just within….
Jason is cumming in his ass what feels like gallons. It’s not of course, but it is a body shock. Especially since it takes Dick AWAY from the edge. Beautiful sapphire eyes look back at the man buried deep inside him, twitching. The other’s face is contorted in pleasure that lasts for long moments before he pulls out. Dick doesn’t have to look, he can feel it. Jason is still very, VERY hard and the look of lusty need on his face says it all.
It’s going to be a very long night.
***
The thick curtains can keep the sun out, but nothing can stop a determined butler. When the door clicks open, Dick is instantly awake. And clutched by the man still holding him. Still buried IN him. Damn.
Thankfully they are under the covers in the very warm, if somewhat musky bed. Oh the sex hadn’t been limited to the bed. Not at all. The counter in the bathroom. The shower stall. The three person bathtub. The window seat beside the bed. The wing chair next to the fireplace. On the fur rug in front of the fireplace. The bed.
Dick has a vague recollection of silk scarves and he has no idea where those had come from, but the friction burns on his wrists tell him all he needs to know. There is something odd pushing against his left foot at the bottom of the bed, under the covers that he really doesn’t want to think very hard about. Dick is blushing. More when Alfred moves to stand by his side of the bed. But the butler just gives him the cool, knowing look that is utterly unruffled despite the sloppy, cooing sounds Jason is making in his sleep.
The man is holding a silver breakfast tray with pancakes, bacon, milk, juice, toast, fresh strawberries, syrup and whip cream. And a hypodermic needle? It’s sitting there next to the second glass of orange juice.
Before Dick can ask, Alfred-being the mind reader he is-explains. “Master Timothy says that it’s to be used if Master Jason is still suffering ill effects. But only if your activities have been insufficient.” And yes, he knows exactly what Jason and Dick have been up to. Hell, most of the eastern seaboard knows, the way they were going at it.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick offers, smiling honestly, if sheepishly. The man nods, putting the tray down on the night table, leaving as soundlessly as he entered.
There is a wet, messy sounds from behind him and the feeling of moist heat on his shoulder. Dick glances over at the man spooning him oh so intimately to find….that Jason is mouthing the acrobat’s shoulder, drooling a little, his eyes still closed.
Dick smiles to himself. Whatever happens next, there will be no regrets.
Fandom: Batman
Characters: Dick, Jason. Some Alfred.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst with humour? Humour with angst?
Warnings: Jason’s potty mouth and porny goodness
Summary: Jason has been dosed with sex pheromones. Tim told him to go molest Dick.
Word Count: 4,442
A/N: This IS the story I set out to write. Finally. I wanted to write the sequel to Duct Tape Use #41 that ladyblkrose requested. But rather then porn I ended up writing Regrets 1.0. It wasn’t what I was going for, but demanded to be written. So I did. Then I buckled down and did this one, the 2.0 version
Tired doesn’t even begin to describe it as Dick drags himself out of the car, Alfred having gone ahead to make a snack presumably. Give him a gang war any day of the week. They are less work than playing nice with the socialites at fund raisers. Less dangerous too. Between the debutants, the mothers that seem to conveniently forget that they are married and the grandmothers that think he’s “such a nice boy” Dick is more than ready for a nice long soak in the bath. Maybe then his cheeks will stop hurting.
Both sets.
He hears a whisper of sound and then there are hands. He doesn’t think. It doesn’t matter that he’s in the manor and none of the alarms have sounded. It’s an attack and he reacts appropriately. By launching the owner of those hands over his shoulder and down the hallway. As the person is still in the air, he realizes who it is.
“Jason?!” What’s going on? Jay has been back home for four months now and behaving. Rough housing is what happens in spars only. So why was he trying to…um…do whatever THAT had been?
The former Red Hood goes with it and rolls out easily, coming back up to his feet. Is that expression really a moue? Cautiously Dick begins walking over to the man. “Jay? Little Wing?”
A hand goes to Jason’s shoulder as the taller vigilante just stands there, watching him. “Come on Jay, talk to me.” Something isn’t right. He’s still wearing the red domino as well as the rest of his uniform, which is absolutely against Alfred’s rules about house etiquette; suits stay in the Cave, the manor is for Family, not the Mission.
But Jason isn’t looking at him. He’s looking down between them. No not between them. A point on Dick’s thigh? That only barely has time to register when he’s being bodily pushed against the wall and held there, first by strong hands, then by the kiss Jason has pressed to his lips. And. Tongue! A very insistent tongue pushing in, against the barrier of Dick’s teeth.
Opening his mouth to ask what is going on is a mistake. The tongue is in, claiming him, even as one of those hands push into Dick’s hair and holds on. Firm, not painfully. If Dick is honest with himself, it IS pretty nice. But it’s Jason! And Jason doesn’t do this with family! Oh sure there had been some hints, some flirting. But he’s seen Jason flirt with valet drivers. It’s just part of who he is; the guy can be sex on a stick when he tries. Or even half tries.
He’s more than half trying now. Jason is like a man possessed. Dick moans into the kiss then more so when the man’s other hand is pushing up under his dress shirt, looking for his nipple. Tweaking. And that sends an electric jolt straight to Dick’s groin. Still, he needs to get himself under control because this isn’t right.
Pulling back out of the kiss as much as he can, Dick reaches up and flips up the domino’s lenses so that he can see Jason’s eyes. The pupils of which are big as saucers. “You’re drugged?!”
Jason is licking his lips, watching Dick’s own. “Mmmm, yeah. A femme fatal wannabe got lucky, sprayed me with some pheromone shit. Got the Spore, too.” But before he explains anything more about what happened to Damian, he’s back to kissing Dick within an inch of his life.
Those debutants have nothing on the determined vigilante currently manhandling him. And he has to fight hard to keep his mind from giving in and shutting down. Dick pulls back again, and when that’s only partially successful he bites the man’s lower lip sharply. That gets his attention. Dick pushes on the other’s shoulders.
“Jay! Stop! Tell me what’s going on,” Dick demands even as the rest of him really wants to get back to that mind-blowing kiss.
“Tim sent me from the Cave. Said I had to let him work. And now you’re here so….” Dick ducks under Jason’s arms as the man tries to catch him again, lips puckered and ready. Well crap.
“And what about Damian?!” That’s right, focus. He’s supposed to be the responsible one here, time to prove it.
“Tim has him. He’s fine. Well mostly.” Jason is STILL trying to get his hands on Dick, even as he answers the question. “The Replacement is working on a counter agent. The standard stuff didn’t put much of a dent in the effects,” he volunteers. Which tells Dick a lot.
Okay. Tim is dealing with Damian, which means he needs to handle Jason. At least until his little brother can whip up a chemical solution. And he knows how to handle this. It’s just that. “Jason. Are you sure about this? I mean I can knock you out, instead.”
The second Robin snorts. “Goldie *I* could knock myself out with my erection! Yes I’m sure. And as you’re so nicely available, I’m nominating your sweet ass for the job!”
“My….You’re what?” Dick squeaks as he realizes that Jason expects to be topping. “Oooooooh no. No way.”
A second snort. “I have talked to Roy. And Garth. And Babs. And Kory. Hell I have vids as evidence! You are so totally a bottom!” And that grin is a very wet thing full of many dirty promises. Dick gulps because, well.
“I could put you in drag,” Jason offers. “Well I think I could. I’m not sure I can wait a whole hell of a lot longer,” the man admits. And how the hell had he backed Dick into a corner?! Then it really doesn’t matter because those large hands are on him, touching, seeking. Finding in the best way possible. And the kiss. He has to moan almost continuously into the kiss. It’s hard to remember to breathe. It’s hard to remember to want to breathe. To want anything other than his brother’s attentions which is something he hasn’t let himself think about.
He’d told himself that it was enough to just have Jason home. That the flirting hadn’t meant anything. That it still doesn’t. Except that he knows that‘s not true. If Jason hadn’t wanted to do it this way he WOULD have knocked himself out. It’s not like this is the first time any of them have been in this situation. Sex pollen exposure and the like is positively a rite of passage for Robin after all.
But. He needs to know.
Strong hands are pushing Jason off him. Even if only by a few inches. “Jay….Tell me that you want this. REALLY want it, Little Wing.” That you won’t be sorry in the morning, hangs in the air between them.
“Since I was 13 you idiot!” Jason almost snarls. “But there was always too much shit going on. With you. With Bruce. With me. “ And yes, Dick can see all that. The three of them had been quite a mess as they failed royally at being able to deal with each other. Then Jason had died. And when he came back, it was all a hundred times worse. But now.
“I swear to god if you try to make me think more, I’m gonna beat you, tie you up and ride you,” Jason threatens and given the look on his face he means it.
“Um….I’m voting that we omit the beating part.”
That gets him a very wolfish grin. And the realization that he’s actually agreeing to what Jason so obviously wants. Oh no. Oh dear! That’s just not. But it’s Jason who is family and very much in need.
Dick glances at the man’s crotch without thinking about it and his jaw almost drops. The other very obviously isn’t wearing a jock. Of course he’s seen Jason in the showers on occasion but he never thought…never paid attention. The end result is that his brain seems to be short circuiting on him as he can’t make sound come out of his opening and closing mouth, which makes him look like a landed fish.
Sometime between one blink and another, Jason had pressed close again and is moving his hands up under the back of Dick’s shirt. Before he can protest, his younger brother is scratching him to either side of his spine with those short finger nails of his. The expression “flipping a switch” comes to mind randomly as Dick moans and leans against Jason. He finally admits to himself where this is going.
The acrobat leans up, his pink lips parted, offering. It’s an offer that’s taken up readily as Jason claims his mouth and is kissing deep, just that fast. Tongue. Firm and desperate as it invades, no, possesses his mouth. A little moan escapes the man. Both of them? Possibly. Figuring that out would require too much thought. Right now he wants to just be here in the moment; because it might all change once Jason is no longer under the influence.
Hands are on him. On his hips, picking him up and that is the wall against his back. Dick reflexively wraps his legs about Jason’s waist. He’s already resigned himself to this tux being a write-off. The kiss is endless and he sure that he could drown in it. Some part of his mind is vaguely away that Jason is walking them somewhere. Hopefully somewhere with a bed. Because kinky sex is fine and all, but he really doesn’t want rug rash tonight.
Then he’s being thrown. And bounces on a mattress. A quick look around shows that they are in one of the guest suites on the second floor. Which. He doesn’t remember being carried up the stairs. Is he getting infected by some of the pheromones still lingering on Jay? No, that wouldn’t be it. Tim would have put him in the decontamination shower first thing on entering the Cave. It has to be something else. Maybe that fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach.
So much pain, so much time lost. And yes, Dick does blame himself. If he’d been on earth rather than off with the Titans, maybe he could have stopped Babs from being shot. Or Jay from dying.
Those thoughts are driven out of his mind as Jason has somehow managed to get Dick’s belt off and is currently pushing his hangs inside the tented pants. The touch is hot, electric, and Dick has to push up into it, croon as he feels a calloused thumb on the swollen head of his penis. Then the hold tightens a bit too much.
“Whoa, Jay, ease up.”
Jason actually looks both apologetic and downright HUNGRY. Then he’s obviously thinking (and shouldn’t there be smoke coming out of his ears for that? Maybe the sound of a hamster wheel grinding away?) something through. The tip of his tongue comes out as he plays for time, and that thumb resumes playing with Dick’s dick.
“You’re saying I need some self-restraint?” is the odd question from the second Robin. Dick nods cautiously, mindful of how vulnerable he is at that moment. The hand lets go and Jason backs away, undoing the pants of his uniform. “Fine, then you need to suck me off. Now. Cuz I gotta cum one way or the other.”
Dick rolls his eyes and gets off the bed. He reaches out to push Jason so that he’s sitting on the opulent silk duvet. “You always were such a charmer, Little Wing,” Dick says with an amused snort. Except it’s not that amusing. Jason’s member is swollen to the point of being purple and, well damn. He’s almost afraid to touch it, for fear of hurting his brother.
A look at the desperation and hope on the other’s face convinces him that it has to be this way. He leans in and can’t help pausing to breathe deeply, smelling the maleness that is all Jay. It’s intoxicating in its own right. There is something very wrong with the universe that it has to happen under these circumstances.
Covering his teeth with his lips, Dick goes down. Taking the man in to the root in one go, relaxing his throat to accept the massive length. For a moment he just holds it there, trying to make a game plan. Which is meaningless when strong hands grasp his head as Jason starts fucking his mouth. There is no tenderness, no art. It’s an action of pure need, but Dick can go with that. He lets Jason take control and do what it is he needs to retain whatever vestiges of sanity he has left. It’s a real effort not to gag and choke around the frantically thrusting monster, something that would have been impossible if it went on for long, but it doesn’t. Jason doesn’t make it to ten thrusts before he’s coming hard. And Dick really is choking, fighting to pull off and then getting shot in the face by another spurt of cum.
Jason is absolutely silent until it’s over, then he groans, long and low, sounding almost like a wounded animal, rather than a man experiencing an afterglow. Dick just has to climb up and pull Jason down on the bed, holding him, petting the sweaty hair. “Shhhhh. You’re good. We’re good. It’ll be okay.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” comes the heartfelt reply. Then Jason is turning in his arms and grinning at him. If they were in a dark alley, Dick would seriously be thinking of running for his life. But they aren’t and yes, there’s a hand down his pants again. “Now that I can think,” Jason purrs (purrs?!) at him, “I’m really going to enjoy this.”
Dick is about to ask what the man means when the hand disappears form his pants and he’ being tossed, turned on his stomach. He heart beats wildly and he can admit that he’s nervous. No, he’s made his choice, he wants this and not just to help Jason out. But there is one minor issue. “Jay! We need lube or this isn’t going to happen,” Dick warns in a firm voice.
A scraping sound. He turns to see the other looking through the very empty night stands and giving a frustrated growl before slamming the drawers. “Don’t move!” is the growled order. Dick turns enough to see Jason dashing out of the room…with his still very hard penis hang out of his open pants. The acrobat winces and sends a prayer to whatever gods are listening that Alfred is NOT going to see that.
It’s only a matter of moments before Jason is back and Dick is NOT going to think about where he got the liter tube of ky jelly. Or how much they will likely end up using. He smiles encouragingly and moves to get up so that he can strip off, something he should have done while Jason was on his search.
Except that he’s no sooner on his feet then Jason is pushing him back on the bed, growling possessively. As he’s trying to process this, those large hands are pulling the clothes off of Dick, and not all that carefully. There is the occasional rip and the cuff links go zinging off to parts unknown.
He’s naked in an alarmingly short amount of time. But Jason is not, other than his open pants and the monster sticking out of it. And that is honestly a problem. A big problem because Dick wants to see, to feel everything that is his younger brother. The boy who died and came back a tormented damaged man. It’s still there under the surface and Dick wants to make it better, he’s always wanted to do that, even though he knows it’s not something he can do. And this isn’t a trashy romance novel. Sex will not heal all those hurts, but it might open the door a crack. It might let them see what could be if they are willing to try. It might.
It might be the worst idea of the decade.
Dick is reaching for Jason even as his thoughts and fears seem to take over. He has to do this. On so many levels. His hands are almost to Jason’s shirt when strong hands engulf his wrists and push him back down on the bed. There are five ways to get out of this position, but Dick uses none, he just smiles at the man above him. “I’m not going anywhere, Jay,” he assures him, looking at the wild eyes under the domino. “I just need you to get naked. Do that for me?”
That tongue is coming out again, licking Jason’s lips as he watches Dick and apparently debates the merits of his words. If he’d actually heard them. No, he did, because he’s letting go and standing up, but still LOOMING over Dick; ready to pounce if the acrobat tries to move. It’s oddly endearing.
Then Jason is working his uniform off. There is no finesse to it, no seduction. It’s all about the raw need to get down to business. Except that Jason doesn’t jump him as the boxers come off. Instead he’s reaching for the lube, dumping it on his fingers and *looking* at Dick like a starving man does a royal banquet.
“Um, this is probably the point where I tell you it’s been a while since I’ve been with a guy, let alone on the receiving end,” Dick says, not wanting to admit how nervous he is. He can’t take his eyes off that monster, which is more red then purple now, but still impressively hard. It will probably remain so for at least four more orgasms, if the pheromones are anything like Ivy’s pollen.
Maybe it’s not like the pollen, it could last longer. Or shorter. And isn’t Tim working on a counter agent? Did he really want Tim coming in while his bothers were being all hot and sweaty? He shudders, and carefully pushes that thought aside because no. It’s not about him, or what would embarrass him, it’s about Jason, about Little Wing needing their help.
Whatever it takes.
Jason is smiling at him. Had he seen the shiver? Of course he had. And it seems to have made him all the hotter. The man kneels on the bed, holding his slicked hand up, making it real obvious. “Show me that flexibility, Goldie.” The other hand is moving to push at Dick’s inner thigh out and up.
That. He has to smile even as a part of him cringes at the nickname. It’s part of who Jason is. Sometimes it’s used as slam against him and other times it’s an endearment or as close to one as the crass second Robin is capable of. Honestly, he really does like the latter, it shows a chink in the that street-tough armour of his.
He spread his legs pulling them up and out, exposing himself for whatever Jason has in mind. It’s only a heartbeat before the fingers are stroking his cleft, actually caressing. It’s a tenderness he never would have expected of Jason, certainly not in this situation! But it’s real, it’s happening and that smile gets a little bigger, and a lot warmer. Not wetter, that belongs to Jason, who is sticking his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates hard. Then the tip of one finger is pressing on his tight pucker. In. It’s an incredible tease, which means that Dick can’t help but pant.
“Jaybird….” There is a plea to the nickname, something he can’t define, but Jason seems to understand. That one finger is pushing in, slowly. Now Jason is panting as well. “I won’t break….” Which of course is in contrast to what he’d said moments ago but, it’s true. Hopefully.
“Yeah, but I might. ‘sides, Daddy Bat will get mad if you can’t patrol tomorrow.” It’s a joke. Of course it’s a joke, bit Dick groans and not in a good way.
“Are you TRYING to kill the mood?!” he demands and then grunts as a second finger joins the first. Fast. And that is a LOT for his poor hole; it’s not even close to what’s to come. “Hey!”
“Just trying to get us back on track.” There is no trace of an apology in the words. In the next moment he’s not thinking about anything other than the way those fingers are MOVING. Pumping only to stop as Jason begins to work Dick’s prostate mercilessly. Are those crooning sounds really coming from him?
Third finger, but its okay, his body is tight but ready, happy to accept the abuse that will be incredible. That is incredible, because it’s Jason and no matter what happens in the “morning” Dick will remember. He will remember the look of raw need and want, the feel of his own.
Out. Jason pulls out and it feels like the emptiness will swallow him whole. He lets go of his calves and reaches for Jason, sitting up a little. The large hands on his wrists again, pushing them back to the bed as Jason covers him and he can feel the swollen head nudging his tight entrance. Dick gasps a little as he smiles, offering, welcoming, and needing Jason to see that. To know it.
He’s keening as Jason holds on and pushes in. And IN. So hot, so deep. His face pulls in an expression of amazed anguish. Jason has him, holds him. Kiss. Lips, throat and that is the sweetest bite to his neck, the very white teeth worrying pale flesh. Still he’s pushing in and Dick can’t see. Yet he can, with all of himself. Jason is trembling with the effort to control himself, to not hurt. Not that way.
Dick’s hands flex in Jason’s grasp but they are being held, pinned and he can’t-won’t!-do anything about it. But there are other options. Like undulating his body, using his suppleness to work the slick length invading him. Giving. And then getting as Jason’s eyes flash open and the heat in them could put Superman to shame.
Jason moves and everything stops except for the feeling that just consumes him, traveling from his ass to his spine to his cock, setting every nerve on fire and leaving him begging. Not to stop. Never that, not even as it feels like he can’t possibly take any more. He will, he has to. Wants to. Because he can. For the worst reason possible but it’s still a gift.
The drag out isn’t slow at all, nor the thrust in. Dick’s long legs wrap about Jason’s waist, pulling himself up, holding them close even as the other grinds him into the mattress with a single-minded determination. The sounds they make as they move together, as Jason cusses him out and Dick begs for more, for him not to leave, those will stay with him all his days.
Up. Jason is on the bed, standing up, over Dick, dragging the acrobat with him and thrusting DOWN. But the bed has too much give. Dick is back down and empty! When…
No, he’s over the edge to the bed, knees on the thick carpeting, stomach on the comforter. Rough hands are forcing his legs apart and then he’s screaming as Jason pushes in hard and fast. Screaming for more, for the way those big hands are gripping his hips and moving him. He’s going to have bruises and Dick can’t help be feel like he’s won badges of honour.
The “war” isn’t even close to over. This is just the first skirmish and it’s spiralling him higher and higher. Closer to that wonderful point of bliss that is so near, just within….
Jason is cumming in his ass what feels like gallons. It’s not of course, but it is a body shock. Especially since it takes Dick AWAY from the edge. Beautiful sapphire eyes look back at the man buried deep inside him, twitching. The other’s face is contorted in pleasure that lasts for long moments before he pulls out. Dick doesn’t have to look, he can feel it. Jason is still very, VERY hard and the look of lusty need on his face says it all.
It’s going to be a very long night.
***
The thick curtains can keep the sun out, but nothing can stop a determined butler. When the door clicks open, Dick is instantly awake. And clutched by the man still holding him. Still buried IN him. Damn.
Thankfully they are under the covers in the very warm, if somewhat musky bed. Oh the sex hadn’t been limited to the bed. Not at all. The counter in the bathroom. The shower stall. The three person bathtub. The window seat beside the bed. The wing chair next to the fireplace. On the fur rug in front of the fireplace. The bed.
Dick has a vague recollection of silk scarves and he has no idea where those had come from, but the friction burns on his wrists tell him all he needs to know. There is something odd pushing against his left foot at the bottom of the bed, under the covers that he really doesn’t want to think very hard about. Dick is blushing. More when Alfred moves to stand by his side of the bed. But the butler just gives him the cool, knowing look that is utterly unruffled despite the sloppy, cooing sounds Jason is making in his sleep.
The man is holding a silver breakfast tray with pancakes, bacon, milk, juice, toast, fresh strawberries, syrup and whip cream. And a hypodermic needle? It’s sitting there next to the second glass of orange juice.
Before Dick can ask, Alfred-being the mind reader he is-explains. “Master Timothy says that it’s to be used if Master Jason is still suffering ill effects. But only if your activities have been insufficient.” And yes, he knows exactly what Jason and Dick have been up to. Hell, most of the eastern seaboard knows, the way they were going at it.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick offers, smiling honestly, if sheepishly. The man nods, putting the tray down on the night table, leaving as soundlessly as he entered.
There is a wet, messy sounds from behind him and the feeling of moist heat on his shoulder. Dick glances over at the man spooning him oh so intimately to find….that Jason is mouthing the acrobat’s shoulder, drooling a little, his eyes still closed.
Dick smiles to himself. Whatever happens next, there will be no regrets.