Fic: What Do You Do With A Drunken Jay?
Title: What do you do with a drunken Jay?
Author: AiyokuSama
Characters: Bruce/Dick/Jason
Rating: R (?)
Summery: Jason is merely…intoxicated.
Continuity: Comics, pre-death in the family. Jay is 15.
Warning: swearing, underage fondling and twisted Bat humour.
Author’s Note: This is a birthday gift fic for
vespertila. She said she wanted some Crack!humour smut between Bruce, Jay and Dick. Well, here is two out of three :P
What the hell? Have these guys been taking notes from The Joker? Nightwing looks in disbelief at the collection of guys in presidential masks. Three are making a break for the helicopter while the fourth is…using the fake flower on his lapel to spray some kind of liquid at him. At least it’s not acid, he can see that much when it lands on the intervening concrete. Still, it’s not something he wants anywhere near him. Once more he considers that maybe he needs to redesign his suit, since the neck line does leave a lot of skin exposed.
There’s a commotion coming form inside the helicopter. Oh, that would be Batman taking care of business. Very good. But where is…
“Hey, Ugly!” A flash of yellow, red and green as the ball of muscle and energy hurtles itself at the masked criminal’s head. Startled the man steps back, sending the unknown substance splashing wildly, some of it landing on himself. Then Jason is on him, fists making short work of idiot. Except--
“Robin! Disengage!” The familiar growl beats Dick to the warning. He’s running over to the kid, batcuffs at the ready, even as Jay is glancing towards the darkly menacing shape of Batman. His confusion is all over his face even as he straddles the down man with his all-too-bare thighs.
“What’s up, B?” the kid asks even as he’s rolling the downed man on his stomach, getting set to slap his own set of restraints on him. He doesn’t get the chance. Nightwing grabs the boy by the collar of his cape and bodily pulls him off. There’s a startled strangled sound, then Robin is spinning towards him, face contorted angrily and ready for a fight.
Thankfully Batman is there, putting his hands on the kid’s shoulders. The move isn’t nearly as effective as it would have been with Dick, the boy seems to think better of just hauling back and decking his ‘attacker’ for which Nightwing is grateful. Jay has some impressive pipes on him and knows how to use those fists.
“Go take care of him, Batman,” Dick speaks tersely. “I’ll clean up here.” He isn’t looking, but he can practically feel the abrupt nod.
What a mess! Hasn’t the Bat given his new sidekick the lecture about unknown viscous substances? Sure none of it was sprayed directly on him, but that wouldn’t have counted for squat if the stuff on the perp’s clothes made contact with his skin. Stupid, impulsive kid. He carefully doesn’t listen to Jay bitching as Batman takes him to the car, lest he give into temptation and smack the upstart.
Instead he sets about tying up the would-be bank robbers and making sure their intended getaway vehicle wouldn’t be going anywhere. He doesn’t bother with a call to the police; they’re already enroute, according to the scanner. Just as well, he really wants to get back to the cave and see if everything is okay with the infuriating brat. It’s a quick enough ride on his motorcycle, especially since he’s blowing the speed limit out of the water. It still takes far too long.
For some reason, Dick feels rather protective of the new Robin, even as he wants to throttle the little shit. It’s just, the kid doesn’t THINK and it’s going to get him killed. What the hell does Bruce think he is doing, making Jay his partner? He grinds his teeth as he pulls into the cave, veering the bike sideways before stopping near the Batmobile. He tears the helmet off with an almost vicious motion and scans the vast expanse.
Batman is sitting at the computer and Jay…is on the floor beside the medical gurney?! His legs are a tangled mess and the boy is skewed to one side awkwardly as he gestures with his arms. “Stupid legs! C’mon…c’mon!” Robin is still wearing his mask, which makes the slurring of his words seem all the more wrong.
“Bruce…” Dick growls with abundant irritation as he walks over, scooping the kid up and depositing him back on the gurney.
“I told him to stay put,” Batman says, without turning around. “He didn’t listen.” The sound of more keys tapping, then the man in the cowl turns around to look at him. “You probably shouldn’t be in close proximity.”
Even though Bruce can’t see it, Dick rolls his eyes behind the black domino. He’d disinfected his gloves before even getting on his bike. He really isn’t that stupid, a fact that comes into question as he feels a hand trying to slip down the v-neck of his suit. “Uh, Jason?” The kid is leaning precariously towards him, making the effort to touch. Once more, he is in danger of slipping off the thin mattress. With his tongue caught between his teeth in a near comical expression of concentration, Jay is doing his best to…what? It’s not exactly feel him up, unless it was being done by a clumsy drunk.
Correction: a clumsy, drunk octopus. Dick knows the boy only has two hands but he could have swear that there are at least five working hard to get into contact with his skin.
Dick firmly pulls the hands out of his top and off his hip, pushing them back to Jay’s own chest. “Hands to yourself, boyo,” he instructs before letting go and taking a cautious step backwards. “So what did the gunk do to him?”
Woah! There’s a hand down his tights and, oh hell no! Grabbing the offending wrist he pins both hands in the kid’s lap as he tries to glare Jay into submission. For some reason, it doesn’t seem to be working. Instead Robin is giving him a cock-eyed leer and is awkwardly trying to shift his uncooperative hips.
“It’s a topical neurotoxin. Short circuits the nerves, or it’s supposed to.” The amount of disgust in Bruce’s voice is telling. Someone didn’t do a very good job constructing their toy. However, Jay’s legs are obviously not functioning so… Dick reflexively catches the kid just as he starts to tumble off the gurney, again. Of course now he’s got lips pressed to his neck. Wet lips that are just…so not a turn on.
“He’ll be able to walk in about twenty minutes or so,” Bruce continues in that analytical way of his. “Unfortunately, he appears to be having an adverse reaction to the counteractive agent.”
Oh, trust the freaking Bat to understate the obvious. “Bruce…?” Another growl. Dick has the bad feeling he’s amusing his former mentor. Or is that tormentor?
“Nothing life threatening. Jason is merely…intoxicated.”
Dick again rolls his eyes as he does his best to disengage the clinging limpet that is Jason. He is once more trying to get inside the Nightwing suit. “And you’re just going to let him suffer through it so that he learns to be more careful next time.”
“Hn,” comes the predictable response.
“You’re a real prick, sometimes,” Dick accuses irritably. When the white lenses look at them they are blank and cold as always, but he sees the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch, once. There are so many things he wants to say to that, but he can’t do anything other then yelp as Jay latches onto his ear lobe, trying to bite and suckle it at the same time, failing miserably at both. “Jay, don’t make me strap you down.”
Dear god, the kid actually looks hopeful at that one. “Ooooooh Dickie. Never knew you were into kinky stuff.” He’s just about to put the kid back on the gurney when he thinks better of that idea. It’s far more practical to set the kid on the floor. Expect now he’s bent over, being held in place by an amorous and very inebriated teenager. This is really not working.
The fact that Bruce is focused on the computer in no way ensures that he’s missing any of this. The bastard probably has a couple of the cave’s cameras trained on them. Reaching around behind his neck, he tries to disengage the boy’s hold on him. Drunk or not, the kid is very strong and unless he wants to break a few fingers in the effort, it doesn’t seem like Jay will release him anytime soon.
Well, fingers do heal.
No. Jay is young and stupid, but the whole being drunk thing is Bats’ doing, not his. And since it’s Batman’s fault…an evil little smirk spreads over his lips as he picks the boy up once more. This is clearly very agreeable to the kid who moulds himself against Dick and resumes his attack on his predecessor’s earlobe.
“Hang on, I’ll get a sedative,” Dick whispers, knowing full well that Bruce will hear him.
“No sedative,” comes the annoyed and extremely predictable growl. Perfect.
“Right, fine.” Carrying the armful of awkwardly squirming Robin over the to the computer, he unceremoniously dumps the startled boy in the man’s lap. Strong, gauntleted hands clutch at the falling body fore jay can crack his skull the edge of the computer. “You deal with him. I’m going to bed.”
With that he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. He wondered how long it would take Bruce to sedate the boy in the name of self-defense.
Author: AiyokuSama
Characters: Bruce/Dick/Jason
Rating: R (?)
Summery: Jason is merely…intoxicated.
Continuity: Comics, pre-death in the family. Jay is 15.
Warning: swearing, underage fondling and twisted Bat humour.
Author’s Note: This is a birthday gift fic for
vespertila. She said she wanted some Crack!humour smut between Bruce, Jay and Dick. Well, here is two out of three :P
What the hell? Have these guys been taking notes from The Joker? Nightwing looks in disbelief at the collection of guys in presidential masks. Three are making a break for the helicopter while the fourth is…using the fake flower on his lapel to spray some kind of liquid at him. At least it’s not acid, he can see that much when it lands on the intervening concrete. Still, it’s not something he wants anywhere near him. Once more he considers that maybe he needs to redesign his suit, since the neck line does leave a lot of skin exposed.
There’s a commotion coming form inside the helicopter. Oh, that would be Batman taking care of business. Very good. But where is…
“Hey, Ugly!” A flash of yellow, red and green as the ball of muscle and energy hurtles itself at the masked criminal’s head. Startled the man steps back, sending the unknown substance splashing wildly, some of it landing on himself. Then Jason is on him, fists making short work of idiot. Except--
“Robin! Disengage!” The familiar growl beats Dick to the warning. He’s running over to the kid, batcuffs at the ready, even as Jay is glancing towards the darkly menacing shape of Batman. His confusion is all over his face even as he straddles the down man with his all-too-bare thighs.
“What’s up, B?” the kid asks even as he’s rolling the downed man on his stomach, getting set to slap his own set of restraints on him. He doesn’t get the chance. Nightwing grabs the boy by the collar of his cape and bodily pulls him off. There’s a startled strangled sound, then Robin is spinning towards him, face contorted angrily and ready for a fight.
Thankfully Batman is there, putting his hands on the kid’s shoulders. The move isn’t nearly as effective as it would have been with Dick, the boy seems to think better of just hauling back and decking his ‘attacker’ for which Nightwing is grateful. Jay has some impressive pipes on him and knows how to use those fists.
“Go take care of him, Batman,” Dick speaks tersely. “I’ll clean up here.” He isn’t looking, but he can practically feel the abrupt nod.
What a mess! Hasn’t the Bat given his new sidekick the lecture about unknown viscous substances? Sure none of it was sprayed directly on him, but that wouldn’t have counted for squat if the stuff on the perp’s clothes made contact with his skin. Stupid, impulsive kid. He carefully doesn’t listen to Jay bitching as Batman takes him to the car, lest he give into temptation and smack the upstart.
Instead he sets about tying up the would-be bank robbers and making sure their intended getaway vehicle wouldn’t be going anywhere. He doesn’t bother with a call to the police; they’re already enroute, according to the scanner. Just as well, he really wants to get back to the cave and see if everything is okay with the infuriating brat. It’s a quick enough ride on his motorcycle, especially since he’s blowing the speed limit out of the water. It still takes far too long.
For some reason, Dick feels rather protective of the new Robin, even as he wants to throttle the little shit. It’s just, the kid doesn’t THINK and it’s going to get him killed. What the hell does Bruce think he is doing, making Jay his partner? He grinds his teeth as he pulls into the cave, veering the bike sideways before stopping near the Batmobile. He tears the helmet off with an almost vicious motion and scans the vast expanse.
Batman is sitting at the computer and Jay…is on the floor beside the medical gurney?! His legs are a tangled mess and the boy is skewed to one side awkwardly as he gestures with his arms. “Stupid legs! C’mon…c’mon!” Robin is still wearing his mask, which makes the slurring of his words seem all the more wrong.
“Bruce…” Dick growls with abundant irritation as he walks over, scooping the kid up and depositing him back on the gurney.
“I told him to stay put,” Batman says, without turning around. “He didn’t listen.” The sound of more keys tapping, then the man in the cowl turns around to look at him. “You probably shouldn’t be in close proximity.”
Even though Bruce can’t see it, Dick rolls his eyes behind the black domino. He’d disinfected his gloves before even getting on his bike. He really isn’t that stupid, a fact that comes into question as he feels a hand trying to slip down the v-neck of his suit. “Uh, Jason?” The kid is leaning precariously towards him, making the effort to touch. Once more, he is in danger of slipping off the thin mattress. With his tongue caught between his teeth in a near comical expression of concentration, Jay is doing his best to…what? It’s not exactly feel him up, unless it was being done by a clumsy drunk.
Correction: a clumsy, drunk octopus. Dick knows the boy only has two hands but he could have swear that there are at least five working hard to get into contact with his skin.
Dick firmly pulls the hands out of his top and off his hip, pushing them back to Jay’s own chest. “Hands to yourself, boyo,” he instructs before letting go and taking a cautious step backwards. “So what did the gunk do to him?”
Woah! There’s a hand down his tights and, oh hell no! Grabbing the offending wrist he pins both hands in the kid’s lap as he tries to glare Jay into submission. For some reason, it doesn’t seem to be working. Instead Robin is giving him a cock-eyed leer and is awkwardly trying to shift his uncooperative hips.
“It’s a topical neurotoxin. Short circuits the nerves, or it’s supposed to.” The amount of disgust in Bruce’s voice is telling. Someone didn’t do a very good job constructing their toy. However, Jay’s legs are obviously not functioning so… Dick reflexively catches the kid just as he starts to tumble off the gurney, again. Of course now he’s got lips pressed to his neck. Wet lips that are just…so not a turn on.
“He’ll be able to walk in about twenty minutes or so,” Bruce continues in that analytical way of his. “Unfortunately, he appears to be having an adverse reaction to the counteractive agent.”
Oh, trust the freaking Bat to understate the obvious. “Bruce…?” Another growl. Dick has the bad feeling he’s amusing his former mentor. Or is that tormentor?
“Nothing life threatening. Jason is merely…intoxicated.”
Dick again rolls his eyes as he does his best to disengage the clinging limpet that is Jason. He is once more trying to get inside the Nightwing suit. “And you’re just going to let him suffer through it so that he learns to be more careful next time.”
“Hn,” comes the predictable response.
“You’re a real prick, sometimes,” Dick accuses irritably. When the white lenses look at them they are blank and cold as always, but he sees the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch, once. There are so many things he wants to say to that, but he can’t do anything other then yelp as Jay latches onto his ear lobe, trying to bite and suckle it at the same time, failing miserably at both. “Jay, don’t make me strap you down.”
Dear god, the kid actually looks hopeful at that one. “Ooooooh Dickie. Never knew you were into kinky stuff.” He’s just about to put the kid back on the gurney when he thinks better of that idea. It’s far more practical to set the kid on the floor. Expect now he’s bent over, being held in place by an amorous and very inebriated teenager. This is really not working.
The fact that Bruce is focused on the computer in no way ensures that he’s missing any of this. The bastard probably has a couple of the cave’s cameras trained on them. Reaching around behind his neck, he tries to disengage the boy’s hold on him. Drunk or not, the kid is very strong and unless he wants to break a few fingers in the effort, it doesn’t seem like Jay will release him anytime soon.
Well, fingers do heal.
No. Jay is young and stupid, but the whole being drunk thing is Bats’ doing, not his. And since it’s Batman’s fault…an evil little smirk spreads over his lips as he picks the boy up once more. This is clearly very agreeable to the kid who moulds himself against Dick and resumes his attack on his predecessor’s earlobe.
“Hang on, I’ll get a sedative,” Dick whispers, knowing full well that Bruce will hear him.
“No sedative,” comes the annoyed and extremely predictable growl. Perfect.
“Right, fine.” Carrying the armful of awkwardly squirming Robin over the to the computer, he unceremoniously dumps the startled boy in the man’s lap. Strong, gauntleted hands clutch at the falling body fore jay can crack his skull the edge of the computer. “You deal with him. I’m going to bed.”
With that he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. He wondered how long it would take Bruce to sedate the boy in the name of self-defense.