(DCU) Under My Sneered Lips
Title: Under My Sneered Lips
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason/Dick
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1947
Notes: Dirty talk. Felching. For a prompt at dcu_memes.
A/N: Happy birthday, Jason!
Summary: Jason enjoys being Dick's first for all the filthiest things.
Sometimes it’s genuinely hard for Jason to believe that nobody’s had this before. That none of the many guys in Dick’s life ever thought to push Dick down on to the nearest flat surface and fuck him until he couldn’t stand up anymore. That none of the many beautiful women Dick’s dated ever wanted to see what he looked like stuffed full of their fingers and mewling for more.
But that just means this is for Jason and Jason alone and, shit, it’s embarrassing what that does for him, how damn good it makes him feel. Knowing nobody else has ever seen Dick like this, forehead bowed against the mattress, dark hair damp with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck, crisscrossing the teeth marks Jason left there earlier.
Nobody’s ever heard the noises that Dick makes when Jason angles his hips just right. Nobody’s seen the way that the harder, the deeper Jason thrusts, the more Dick loses it. Scratching at the sheets, gasping and begging for it, so sweet, arching his spine and trying to fuck himself back on to Jason’s cock.
Nobody’s ever felt the way Dick clamps down on him like a vice when he comes, and Jason growls, fingers digging into Dick’s hips to hold him still while Jason’s vision whites-out for that molten-hot grip.
“Fuck, so fucking tight, feel you coming for me.” Jason can hear himself babbling, but it just makes Dick’s rough moan hitch up into a whine, trying to fight the grip Jason has on him and failing.
It always feels like it’s dragging his orgasm out of him, leaving him spinning and disorientated, feeling himself twitching and pulsing inside Dick’s ass.
“Love coming inside of you, filling you up, making you my fucking property.” And just the thought of that makes Jason groan, words lost in a slur of noise, makes him spurt a little more, even though it’s bordering on painful.
Dick just does that to him, makes him lose his damn mind, but Jason’s never gonna give him the satisfaction of actually telling him that.
He gives himself a long moment to just drift on the pleasure of it, aftershocks still trembling through them both, every little shiver feeling like it’s centred around Jason’s cock. Then he’s pulling out, slow and careful, and this is the only time he’s ever gentle with Dick, when Dick’s too fucked out and boneless to really notice.
A shudder runs up the length of Dick’s back when the head of Jason’s cock slips free, and Jason just watches him for a moment. Dick’s apparently too tired and sensitised to even move, still balanced on his elbows and knees, head turned to the side, cheek pressed against the bed and eyes closed.
He’s so damned beautiful like this, and it makes Jason’s chest ache, something angry and frustrated and vicious stirring low in his stomach. Like his body isn’t allowed the afterglow, like he’s so fucked up he’s not even allowed to just enjoy the way he feels right now.
He tears his gaze away from Dick’s face, down the line of his spine, to the curve of his ass. “Wonder how they’d feel, if they could see their golden boy like this,” he hisses, and the words, the tone, it’s cruel and spiteful.
God, he always gets like this, feeling himself ruin shit, but he can never stop. And he already knows they’ll end up yelling at each other, and Dick will storm out of the window of Jason’s crappy apartment half-dressed, and they’ll avoid each other until the ache gets too much, until Jason feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get his hands back on Dick’s body.
He hates how weak it makes him, but he just can’t help himself from lashing out, from starting the cycle anew every time.
He can see Dick’s muscles tensing, thighs and lower back bunching up, and he knows if he looks at Dick’s face he’ll see a weary frown.
Dick must be so tired of Jason’s bullshit, but he always comes back in the end, and maybe that’s the only thing that makes it bearable for Jason to be trapped in this fucking loop, knowing that Dick needs this just as much as he does.
But right now he doesn’t want to fight, and he’s reaching forward, hands framing Dick’s ass, spreading him, and Dick flinches and lets out a soft, distressed sound that goes straight to Jason’s barely-softened cock.
“If you could see yourself, fuck, all pink and swollen,” he whispers, knowing Dick hears him even with how low his voice is right now, husky and hushed. He pulls Dick’s cheeks a little wider apart, spreads him enough that it probably burns, and Dick’s back bows, his hole fucking twitching for it.
Jason’s cock throbs as if in answer, his eyes narrowing.
There’s a thin trail of Jason’s come running down to Dick’s balls, his hole all slicked up and shiny with it, and Jason inhales deep through his nose, fingers flexing in the meat of Dick’s ass.
“You’re gonna feel it all the way back to daddy’s house, aren’t you?” he smirks, keeping his voice teasing and mean, because like this Dick can’t see his face, can’t see how he’s so turned on it hurts, way too soon after too good an orgasm to be anything other than uncomfortable.
“Fuck you,” Dick hisses, and this is always how Jason likes him best. When all the responsibility and expectations and innate goodness has been fucked out of his head, when he’s no longer ‘Dick Grayson, perfect brother, perfect son’. When he’s raw, when he’s just sensation and pleasure and lethargy, when he’s been pulled down as close to Jason’s level as he can get.
“You mean you don’t want to be feeling my come dripping down your thighs as you walk into the Batcave?” Jason laughs, low and dirty. “Well, I can fix that for you.”
He leans forward on his knees, breathing hot and heavy against Dick’s ass, and he can feel Dick flexing against his grip but he just digs his fingers in a little harder. Ducking down to lick a trail up Dick’s perineum, lapping up his come, tasting himself and the muskier taste of Dick’s sweat.
There’s a beat where Dick’s completely frozen, like he’s not even breathing, and then he makes a noise like an injured animal, trying to scrabble up the bed. Jason holds his hips fast, drags him back closer, and he knows it’s fucked up that he loves freaking Dick out like this. Because he knows that means he’s the first to do this, that he’s just blown Dick’s mind, just smashed up against Dick’s sense of right and wrong and utterly destroyed it.
Like the first time he twisted a finger into Dick’s ass and Dick arched up so high he almost threw Jason off the bed. Like the first time he licked Dick open and Dick screamed so loud that Jason had to pack up and find a new safe-house the next day because somebody actually called the cops. Like the first time he fucked Dick’s mouth and Dick came hard enough that his eyes rolled up in his head without even touching himself, afterward looking dazed and scared and more gorgeous than Jason’s ever seen him.
“I’m helping you out here,” Jason grunts, and he knows there’s a nasty smile on his face that Dick can’t see right now. “So hold still.” One hand still holding Dick’s hip, thumb holding his cheek spread wide, the other reaching out to grab Dick’s wrist. Pulling his arm back, pinning his hand against the small of his back. Easy enough hold for Dick to shrug off, but Jason knows he won’t, has long since learned the difference between Dick actually fighting to get away and him just writhing and thrashing, caught somewhere between desire and panic over whatever Jason’s doing to him, over how good Jason can make him feel.
Dick’s still trembling, knees shifting against the mattress, face rubbing back and forth against the sheets, but he’s not trying to get away anymore. Like he knows he shouldn’t want this, but he’s already surrendered to the fact that he does, and Jason’s not waiting any longer for whatever crap Dick has to tell himself to help accept that he’s just as fucked up for this as Jason is.
He keeps his grip on Dick’s wrist, leans down again, pressing his mouth to Dick’s hole, feeling it twitch and clench under his lips. Mouthing at the puckered edges a little, feeling how hot and swollen they are, before he seals his lips over his hole and sucks, not too hard but enough that he can feel Dick opening under him. Enough that he can taste his come again as it slides free of Dick’s ass, and Dick wails, hips rolling back against Jason’s face.
He groans for the feel of it, the intimacy, and the vibration of it makes Dick’s voice pitch higher. Jason can feel Dick’s feet skidding over the bed, and he drops his hold on Dick’s wrist, wraps his arm around Dick’s thighs instead so he can lift him a little, bury his face deeper between Dick’s cheeks. Sucking a bit harder now, taste of his own come coating his tongue. Being messy, being sloppy, being noisy, filthy wet sounds that mingle with the way Dick’s keening for him, desperate and broken.
Jason’s flushed, can feel fresh sweat prickling across his back, as he thrusts his tongue into Dick’s ass. He’s never rimmed Dick after they’ve fucked before, and Dick’s more open like this, taking him deeper, tightening up around him, then loosening rhythmically in time with every roll of Jason’s tongue.
There’s a pattern to how these nights go. They meet, they fight, they fuck, they fight even harder, Dick leaves and Jason either breaks things or glares at the ceiling until he passes out at sunrise. But, shit, he doesn’t want to let go of Dick right now, wants a whole night of this, wants Dick in his bed, wants his heat and his sounds and the touch of his body.
He pulls his mouth away from Dick’s ass with a noise that’s fucking obscene, taking in the way the skin there is spit-slick and glistening, before he shoves Dick’s hip until gravity rolls Dick on to his side.
Dick stares up at him, pupils so dilated there’s barely any blue to his wide eyes. His bottom lip is swollen, little crescents there from his teeth, his whole face flushed, chest rising and falling erratically. “Jay?” he whispers, voice hesitant, and Jason figures the expression of his face must be pretty fucked up to make Dick look at him like that.
There’s a pattern to how these nights go, but right now Jason doesn’t give a shit about routine and expectation and his habit of screwing everything over.
“You’re staying tonight,” he murmurs, and it’s not quite a question, not quite an order, and somehow Jason’s hand has found Dick’s knee and is squeezing it tight.
Dick’s eyes flutter shut, hand sliding down between his legs to grip the base of his cock, like just hearing Jason say that is enough to make him want to come.
Like he’s been waiting for Jason to say that for a long time.
“Yeah, you’re staying,” Jason nods, trying to let a little of his usual arrogance creep into the words as he crawls over Dick’s body, ready to pin him down, ready to keep him there as long as he fucking can, the usual routine be damned.
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Jason/Dick
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1947
Notes: Dirty talk. Felching. For a prompt at dcu_memes.
A/N: Happy birthday, Jason!
Summary: Jason enjoys being Dick's first for all the filthiest things.
Sometimes it’s genuinely hard for Jason to believe that nobody’s had this before. That none of the many guys in Dick’s life ever thought to push Dick down on to the nearest flat surface and fuck him until he couldn’t stand up anymore. That none of the many beautiful women Dick’s dated ever wanted to see what he looked like stuffed full of their fingers and mewling for more.
But that just means this is for Jason and Jason alone and, shit, it’s embarrassing what that does for him, how damn good it makes him feel. Knowing nobody else has ever seen Dick like this, forehead bowed against the mattress, dark hair damp with sweat, sticking to the back of his neck, crisscrossing the teeth marks Jason left there earlier.
Nobody’s ever heard the noises that Dick makes when Jason angles his hips just right. Nobody’s seen the way that the harder, the deeper Jason thrusts, the more Dick loses it. Scratching at the sheets, gasping and begging for it, so sweet, arching his spine and trying to fuck himself back on to Jason’s cock.
Nobody’s ever felt the way Dick clamps down on him like a vice when he comes, and Jason growls, fingers digging into Dick’s hips to hold him still while Jason’s vision whites-out for that molten-hot grip.
“Fuck, so fucking tight, feel you coming for me.” Jason can hear himself babbling, but it just makes Dick’s rough moan hitch up into a whine, trying to fight the grip Jason has on him and failing.
It always feels like it’s dragging his orgasm out of him, leaving him spinning and disorientated, feeling himself twitching and pulsing inside Dick’s ass.
“Love coming inside of you, filling you up, making you my fucking property.” And just the thought of that makes Jason groan, words lost in a slur of noise, makes him spurt a little more, even though it’s bordering on painful.
Dick just does that to him, makes him lose his damn mind, but Jason’s never gonna give him the satisfaction of actually telling him that.
He gives himself a long moment to just drift on the pleasure of it, aftershocks still trembling through them both, every little shiver feeling like it’s centred around Jason’s cock. Then he’s pulling out, slow and careful, and this is the only time he’s ever gentle with Dick, when Dick’s too fucked out and boneless to really notice.
A shudder runs up the length of Dick’s back when the head of Jason’s cock slips free, and Jason just watches him for a moment. Dick’s apparently too tired and sensitised to even move, still balanced on his elbows and knees, head turned to the side, cheek pressed against the bed and eyes closed.
He’s so damned beautiful like this, and it makes Jason’s chest ache, something angry and frustrated and vicious stirring low in his stomach. Like his body isn’t allowed the afterglow, like he’s so fucked up he’s not even allowed to just enjoy the way he feels right now.
He tears his gaze away from Dick’s face, down the line of his spine, to the curve of his ass. “Wonder how they’d feel, if they could see their golden boy like this,” he hisses, and the words, the tone, it’s cruel and spiteful.
God, he always gets like this, feeling himself ruin shit, but he can never stop. And he already knows they’ll end up yelling at each other, and Dick will storm out of the window of Jason’s crappy apartment half-dressed, and they’ll avoid each other until the ache gets too much, until Jason feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get his hands back on Dick’s body.
He hates how weak it makes him, but he just can’t help himself from lashing out, from starting the cycle anew every time.
He can see Dick’s muscles tensing, thighs and lower back bunching up, and he knows if he looks at Dick’s face he’ll see a weary frown.
Dick must be so tired of Jason’s bullshit, but he always comes back in the end, and maybe that’s the only thing that makes it bearable for Jason to be trapped in this fucking loop, knowing that Dick needs this just as much as he does.
But right now he doesn’t want to fight, and he’s reaching forward, hands framing Dick’s ass, spreading him, and Dick flinches and lets out a soft, distressed sound that goes straight to Jason’s barely-softened cock.
“If you could see yourself, fuck, all pink and swollen,” he whispers, knowing Dick hears him even with how low his voice is right now, husky and hushed. He pulls Dick’s cheeks a little wider apart, spreads him enough that it probably burns, and Dick’s back bows, his hole fucking twitching for it.
Jason’s cock throbs as if in answer, his eyes narrowing.
There’s a thin trail of Jason’s come running down to Dick’s balls, his hole all slicked up and shiny with it, and Jason inhales deep through his nose, fingers flexing in the meat of Dick’s ass.
“You’re gonna feel it all the way back to daddy’s house, aren’t you?” he smirks, keeping his voice teasing and mean, because like this Dick can’t see his face, can’t see how he’s so turned on it hurts, way too soon after too good an orgasm to be anything other than uncomfortable.
“Fuck you,” Dick hisses, and this is always how Jason likes him best. When all the responsibility and expectations and innate goodness has been fucked out of his head, when he’s no longer ‘Dick Grayson, perfect brother, perfect son’. When he’s raw, when he’s just sensation and pleasure and lethargy, when he’s been pulled down as close to Jason’s level as he can get.
“You mean you don’t want to be feeling my come dripping down your thighs as you walk into the Batcave?” Jason laughs, low and dirty. “Well, I can fix that for you.”
He leans forward on his knees, breathing hot and heavy against Dick’s ass, and he can feel Dick flexing against his grip but he just digs his fingers in a little harder. Ducking down to lick a trail up Dick’s perineum, lapping up his come, tasting himself and the muskier taste of Dick’s sweat.
There’s a beat where Dick’s completely frozen, like he’s not even breathing, and then he makes a noise like an injured animal, trying to scrabble up the bed. Jason holds his hips fast, drags him back closer, and he knows it’s fucked up that he loves freaking Dick out like this. Because he knows that means he’s the first to do this, that he’s just blown Dick’s mind, just smashed up against Dick’s sense of right and wrong and utterly destroyed it.
Like the first time he twisted a finger into Dick’s ass and Dick arched up so high he almost threw Jason off the bed. Like the first time he licked Dick open and Dick screamed so loud that Jason had to pack up and find a new safe-house the next day because somebody actually called the cops. Like the first time he fucked Dick’s mouth and Dick came hard enough that his eyes rolled up in his head without even touching himself, afterward looking dazed and scared and more gorgeous than Jason’s ever seen him.
“I’m helping you out here,” Jason grunts, and he knows there’s a nasty smile on his face that Dick can’t see right now. “So hold still.” One hand still holding Dick’s hip, thumb holding his cheek spread wide, the other reaching out to grab Dick’s wrist. Pulling his arm back, pinning his hand against the small of his back. Easy enough hold for Dick to shrug off, but Jason knows he won’t, has long since learned the difference between Dick actually fighting to get away and him just writhing and thrashing, caught somewhere between desire and panic over whatever Jason’s doing to him, over how good Jason can make him feel.
Dick’s still trembling, knees shifting against the mattress, face rubbing back and forth against the sheets, but he’s not trying to get away anymore. Like he knows he shouldn’t want this, but he’s already surrendered to the fact that he does, and Jason’s not waiting any longer for whatever crap Dick has to tell himself to help accept that he’s just as fucked up for this as Jason is.
He keeps his grip on Dick’s wrist, leans down again, pressing his mouth to Dick’s hole, feeling it twitch and clench under his lips. Mouthing at the puckered edges a little, feeling how hot and swollen they are, before he seals his lips over his hole and sucks, not too hard but enough that he can feel Dick opening under him. Enough that he can taste his come again as it slides free of Dick’s ass, and Dick wails, hips rolling back against Jason’s face.
He groans for the feel of it, the intimacy, and the vibration of it makes Dick’s voice pitch higher. Jason can feel Dick’s feet skidding over the bed, and he drops his hold on Dick’s wrist, wraps his arm around Dick’s thighs instead so he can lift him a little, bury his face deeper between Dick’s cheeks. Sucking a bit harder now, taste of his own come coating his tongue. Being messy, being sloppy, being noisy, filthy wet sounds that mingle with the way Dick’s keening for him, desperate and broken.
Jason’s flushed, can feel fresh sweat prickling across his back, as he thrusts his tongue into Dick’s ass. He’s never rimmed Dick after they’ve fucked before, and Dick’s more open like this, taking him deeper, tightening up around him, then loosening rhythmically in time with every roll of Jason’s tongue.
There’s a pattern to how these nights go. They meet, they fight, they fuck, they fight even harder, Dick leaves and Jason either breaks things or glares at the ceiling until he passes out at sunrise. But, shit, he doesn’t want to let go of Dick right now, wants a whole night of this, wants Dick in his bed, wants his heat and his sounds and the touch of his body.
He pulls his mouth away from Dick’s ass with a noise that’s fucking obscene, taking in the way the skin there is spit-slick and glistening, before he shoves Dick’s hip until gravity rolls Dick on to his side.
Dick stares up at him, pupils so dilated there’s barely any blue to his wide eyes. His bottom lip is swollen, little crescents there from his teeth, his whole face flushed, chest rising and falling erratically. “Jay?” he whispers, voice hesitant, and Jason figures the expression of his face must be pretty fucked up to make Dick look at him like that.
There’s a pattern to how these nights go, but right now Jason doesn’t give a shit about routine and expectation and his habit of screwing everything over.
“You’re staying tonight,” he murmurs, and it’s not quite a question, not quite an order, and somehow Jason’s hand has found Dick’s knee and is squeezing it tight.
Dick’s eyes flutter shut, hand sliding down between his legs to grip the base of his cock, like just hearing Jason say that is enough to make him want to come.
Like he’s been waiting for Jason to say that for a long time.
“Yeah, you’re staying,” Jason nods, trying to let a little of his usual arrogance creep into the words as he crawls over Dick’s body, ready to pin him down, ready to keep him there as long as he fucking can, the usual routine be damned.