[ when Jason turns away, Bruce leans into him, pressing his mouth to the back of his neck and along his shoulder. Something to hold him over while he pulls away to fumble with the drawer in the bedside table. It isnโt proper lube but itโll work for what he needs it for.
He turns back and slips his slick hand between Jasonโs cheeks, pressing a calloused finger into him up to the first joint.
[Jason whines, not in pain and not in protest, but that high-pitched sound of pleasure that suggests he is more than happy to have Bruce doing that. The smooth sensation goes right to his cock, and he reaches down to press his hand on it. He's not jerking off, just touching himself, casual and without hurry.
He turns his head, and the scar that Bruce gave him when he threw a batarang at him is under Bruce's mouth and it makes Jason shiver all the more, gasping for breath.]
It's okay. You got me.
[He hasn't said that in a long time, and his other hand is reaching back to find Bruce's free one, to pull it to his mouth to kiss his palm and then hold it like a lifeline.]
[ Bruce whispers against Jasonโs skin, mouth hot and wet against that scar.
He lets Jason take his free hand, wraps that arm around him and hugs him while he works his finger inside him. Thereโs only a moment for Jason to get used to the stretch before Bruce presses in another finger alongside the first. ]
[He whines again, and both their hands are up against Jason's chest, and he lifts his leg a little to give Bruce more space. He loops his leg up against Bruce's, and squirms as Bruce whispers that he has him. That 's all that he's wanted. He's wanted to be held, held tightly and protected, every single damned day.
He presses his hips back a little, eager to have more, more of those big hands inside of him until he can get his cock.]
Just like that, God, just-
[He tips his chin down and kisses Bruce's fingers again. Here, he's here, he's here, they're both right here.]
[ That whine is a siren's song, dragging him in close. He'd drown if they were in water. But he's focused on what he's doing, working his fingers in and out of Jason while he squirms and presses back against him and kisses his fingers.
Logic doesn't seem so logical now. Nothing does. Every nerve feels like it's been set alight, and all of Bruce's energy is being poured into pushing Jason closer and closer to that familiar high. Every noise he draws out goes straight to his cock, painfully hard and nudging into Jason's back as he moves. His patience is wearing thin. He's not sure how he's managed this long without any relief. ]
[Jason's patience is being worn thin; he wants that cock, he can feel it against his back, against hot skin, he can feel the hot smear of wetness. He wants to feel it inside of him and he almost begs for that, the words garbled in a thick moan.]
More.
Give me more.
[He manages that, and then.]
Just fuck me, if I can't walk later you can carry me home.
[The lust is thick in his voice, and he tries to stay still, but his hips are rocking just a little, just enough to be clear he's trying to get some friction, something.]
[ Hearing it from Jason's mouth shreds the last of Bruce's restraint. He's not thinking about retreating anymore or how they'll get all of this glitter out of the sheets or off his clothes. It's all background noise compared to Jason's words echoing in his brain. Fuck me. He pulls away only long enough slick his cock up, then he's nudging it in place so he can sink into him, slow and deliberate. ]
I got you. I got you.
[ Bruce keeps him steady with a hand pressed against Jason's hip, fingers digging bruises there. The other he keeps pressed against his chest, so Jason would have something to hold on to. His mouth continues to kiss and bite at that scar on Jason's neck. ]
[He does keep holding Bruce's hand, as if his mouth isn't evidence enough that Bruce wants him, wants him like Jason wants to be wanted, as if he's still convinced that if he lets go he'll wake up in a pile of sweat and a stomach covered in drying come.
He cries out and it echoes in the cave. It doesn't even occur to him that anyone could walk in, that there are cameras. He doesn't care. All he cares about is feeling full and the sweet pleasure and the rough buzz, and Bruce's mouth on his shoulder like he's trying to maul him or to heal the scar that he put there, the scar that marks him.
He adjusts both their hands, then, to his own cock, and wraps Bruce's fingers around him so that he can rock into him and onto him at once.]
[ Bruce wants. He wants and craves and demands everything Jason is willing to give him. He's so tight and when Bruce is finally flush against him, the sound Jason makes echoes in the cave and through all of Bruce's body and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. There's cameras sure, but Bruce controls them and he's not concerned about who might see the footage. No one would question him. And if they did, Bruce didn't owe them an explanation.
He's not even wholly sure he'd have an explanation for this other than it just happened. It's not something he would have accepted from anyone else. But he doesn't want to give this kind of thing words. Not yet.
Bruce's hand follow's Jason's lead and wraps around his cock without a lot of urging. It's warm and thick in his palm and he gives it a few experimental strokes in tandem with the rocking of Jason's hips. He presses his mouth against Jason's shoulder to muffle a moan that might as well have been a growl as Jason works himself back against him. ]
Good boy. You're such a good boy.
[ His voice is low, raw, thick with pleasure. He'd barely recognize it if it wasn't coming from him. ]
[God, those words do it to him, they practically slam through any defense he had left and smash them to bits. He feels so aroused he thinks he's going to light on fire, and Bruce is making it better at the same time he's making it worse.]
God, B, don't stop, okay? I'll keep being good, just don't stop, don't-
[He gasps and closes his eyes.]
You, god, please. I'm going to come. I'm gonna-
[He's babbling now, not high but still loose and easy from the high the night before, his nerve endings on fire. He can't help but clench his ass, trying to keep himself from spilling over.
He doesn't manage it, coming with a cry. It feels like it happened so fast but he also can't care.]
[ Bruce could feel it when it happens. Jason's body tenses in his grasp and warm spurts of come coat his fingers. Then he's clenching around him, and for a minute Bruce forgets how to breathe. Or how to think or how to do anything except how to fuck into Jason again and again until there's nothing but static in his brain and in his ears and behind his eyes.
His orgasm hits him hard, like a punch to the gut, his hand digging hard into Jason's hip as he spills into him until there's nothing left. When he finally lets go, he slides the hand that had been gripping his hip to his middle and settled on his stomach. He kisses a spot on his shoulder, but doesn't know what to say.
[He doesn't say anything. He waits for the shame to wash over him, to drown him, but it doesn't. He just feels warm, he feels happy. He holds Bruce's hand and turns his head, to look at Bruce just from the corner of his eye. He wants to gauge if Bruce is freaking out, if he needs to leave.
[ There is some part of him that wants to pull away and tell Jason it's best if he went home and they never spoke or thought about this again. But there's also this sense of contentment that's keeping him here, in this bed even though it's really too small for them.
Jason's not moving. Or freaking out. Bruce is freaking out a little.
But, he decides he wants to stay here a little bit longer. Reality will assert itself again soon enough. ]
I want you to.
[ Maybe they can find another moment to do this again. ]
[If they can stay here, quiet like this, they can have another moment where they are together and maybe they don't have to acknowledge that this is unhealthy or weird or disturbing. They can just let themselves have this minute together.
He doesn't turn around, but keeps holding Bruce's hand to his chest, so Bruce can feel the reassuring thud of his heartbeat and he can feel Bruce's at his wrist.]
[ It is simple and easy. To just exist without a fire to put out or fending off another earth shattering crisis. They're just two people having a quiet moment and Bruce isn't having to swallow down Jason's rejection. It feels...
It feels like something deep and quiet settling over him, like having a warm drink after a night out in the cold.
[He closes his eyes but he doesn't fall asleep again; he just stays there, warm, even has he feels sticky and like he's going to be sorry when he finally gets up.
[ He's not reluctant to let go but stays put for a moment longer in the space where they kiss before they part. When Jason's out of sight is when that creeping we shouldn't be doing this feeling returns and settles unhappily in Bruce's gut.
He lays with it for a minute, before he gets up to clean up. By the time Jason returns, the med bay bed is neat and tidy, not a speck of glitter to be seen. Bruce is at the computer, analyzing Jason's blood sample. ]
[Once he showers, he starts to feel the curdle in his stomach, bitter and strange and maybe a little afraid. He takes his shower and dries off, and gets a spare pair of sweats, but doesn't have a shirt that isn't covered in glitter.
He comes out, barefoot, to where Bruce is at the computer, and he doesn't look Bruce in the eye.]
[ Preliminary results are already populating when Jason comes back. Bruce is cataloguing them, preparing for some dictation when he hears Jay's voice and it makes him stop. Because as much as he's pretending like it isn't, things are different now. The world's shifted in a way he's honestly not prepared for.
He doesn't want to think about Jason wandering around in one of his shirts. It feels very domestic. He thinks about it anyway. ]
[The words do you want me to are right there at the tip of his tongue. If he stays for breakfast he's going to have to face Alfred, and he's not sure he's really particularly keen on the eye he'll get from him.
He twists his mouth a little.]
I usually get breakfast at the Starlight Diner, when I'm up for it.
[Which isn't a yes or a no.]
I could grab one of Dick's shirts.
[They will not fit right, because Jason is bigger than Dick, and Dick never really went for the extra oversize look.]
[ he doesnโt take his eyes off the screen; heโs still working. And honestly did not want to risk what might happen if he does look. He doesnโt know what Jason might look like now that heโs clean and clearheaded. Probably every bit as desirable as he had last night, covered in glitter and high as a kite. He doesnโt know what that will do to him and Bruce hated not knowing.
Itโs tacit permission to take one of his. ]
We can go to the diner. Just give me a minute.
[ Jasonโs not the only one who doesnโt want to face Alfred. ]
[Jason's eyes narrow a little but he heads to where he knows there's a stock of old shirts, the ones that Alfred desperately would like to throw away and that Bruce keeps down in the cave as a compromise. It's not like Bruce would wear a t-shirt in public even if it was brand new and he was going to a picnic.
He hunts around but then spots-
-oh, it's absolutely one of Dick's shirts. It's slightly larger, but worn, and clean, and it has the bright Superman logo on it, but Jason loops it over his head. On him it's just tight, but it just barely fits, not leaving much to the imagination.]
You know you'll have to be Brucie, right?
[He says it as he goes to get the keys to one of the flashier cars, because Jason likes to drive them on the rare chance he and Bruce are getting along, which, considering what their morning was like, he figures is now.]
[ It starts as a glance. He can see movement as Jason is making his way back over to the computer, so he looks. Quick at first. An acknowledgement that he's still here. But in that passing moment he sees familiar blues and reds and looks again because he wouldn't be caught dead in Clark's colors. So he knows it's Dick's, probably long since forgotten. He stares at the logo a minute before he even recognizes how snug the fit is across Jason's chest.
He tells himself not to stare any longer and turns back to the computer to continue organizing the results as they come in. ]
I'll live.
[ When he's at a satisfying stopping point, he steps away for a moment before he comes back dressed a bit differently. A button down sloppily buttoned and ill fitted around the collar. Sunglasses resting on his hair. If he's going to be Brucie, he'll at least look the part. He slides into the passenger seat and gets settled. ]
[Because he's going to speed, he's going to drive like a madman, knowing that the cops don't pull over any of Bruce's cars, and perfectly happy to exploit that.
They get to the diner in record time. Jason hops out, grinning like a maniac.]
[ He doesn't complain. In fact, Bruce doesn't say much of anything the drive over. The only real signs of life is the way his hands tense when they take a corner too fast.
But, he doesn't complain.
When they reach the diner, Bruce drops his sunglasses and gets out after Jason. He sees Jason's grin and it's funny how he's found the easiest way to get his heart to skip a beat or two.
Anyway.
He walks in ahead of Jason, leans on the hostess station and offers her a tired smile. ]
I really wanna sit in a booth. Tell me you got one of those.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theknightshift) wrote2024-11-12 08:56 pm
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He turns back and slips his slick hand between Jasonโs cheeks, pressing a calloused finger into him up to the first joint.
He kisses him on the neck again. ]
Easy.
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He turns his head, and the scar that Bruce gave him when he threw a batarang at him is under Bruce's mouth and it makes Jason shiver all the more, gasping for breath.]
It's okay. You got me.
[He hasn't said that in a long time, and his other hand is reaching back to find Bruce's free one, to pull it to his mouth to kiss his palm and then hold it like a lifeline.]
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[ Bruce whispers against Jasonโs skin, mouth hot and wet against that scar.
He lets Jason take his free hand, wraps that arm around him and hugs him while he works his finger inside him. Thereโs only a moment for Jason to get used to the stretch before Bruce presses in another finger alongside the first. ]
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He presses his hips back a little, eager to have more, more of those big hands inside of him until he can get his cock.]
Just like that, God, just-
[He tips his chin down and kisses Bruce's fingers again. Here, he's here, he's here, they're both right here.]
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Logic doesn't seem so logical now. Nothing does. Every nerve feels like it's been set alight, and all of Bruce's energy is being poured into pushing Jason closer and closer to that familiar high. Every noise he draws out goes straight to his cock, painfully hard and nudging into Jason's back as he moves. His patience is wearing thin. He's not sure how he's managed this long without any relief. ]
Think you can take another?
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More.
Give me more.
[He manages that, and then.]
Just fuck me, if I can't walk later you can carry me home.
[The lust is thick in his voice, and he tries to stay still, but his hips are rocking just a little, just enough to be clear he's trying to get some friction, something.]
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I got you. I got you.
[ Bruce keeps him steady with a hand pressed against Jason's hip, fingers digging bruises there. The other he keeps pressed against his chest, so Jason would have something to hold on to. His mouth continues to kiss and bite at that scar on Jason's neck. ]
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He cries out and it echoes in the cave. It doesn't even occur to him that anyone could walk in, that there are cameras. He doesn't care. All he cares about is feeling full and the sweet pleasure and the rough buzz, and Bruce's mouth on his shoulder like he's trying to maul him or to heal the scar that he put there, the scar that marks him.
He adjusts both their hands, then, to his own cock, and wraps Bruce's fingers around him so that he can rock into him and onto him at once.]
Fuck.
[The word practically drags out of his throat.]
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He's not even wholly sure he'd have an explanation for this other than it just happened. It's not something he would have accepted from anyone else. But he doesn't want to give this kind of thing words. Not yet.
Bruce's hand follow's Jason's lead and wraps around his cock without a lot of urging. It's warm and thick in his palm and he gives it a few experimental strokes in tandem with the rocking of Jason's hips. He presses his mouth against Jason's shoulder to muffle a moan that might as well have been a growl as Jason works himself back against him. ]
Good boy. You're such a good boy.
[ His voice is low, raw, thick with pleasure. He'd barely recognize it if it wasn't coming from him. ]
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God, B, don't stop, okay? I'll keep being good, just don't stop, don't-
[He gasps and closes his eyes.]
You, god, please. I'm going to come. I'm gonna-
[He's babbling now, not high but still loose and easy from the high the night before, his nerve endings on fire. He can't help but clench his ass, trying to keep himself from spilling over.
He doesn't manage it, coming with a cry. It feels like it happened so fast but he also can't care.]
Come on, B, give it to me, come on-
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His orgasm hits him hard, like a punch to the gut, his hand digging hard into Jason's hip as he spills into him until there's nothing left. When he finally lets go, he slides the hand that had been gripping his hip to his middle and settled on his stomach. He kisses a spot on his shoulder, but doesn't know what to say.
Was there anything to say? ]
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But he doesn't seem to be freaking out.
Or maybe he is, it's hard to tell.]
Can I stay?
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Jason's not moving. Or freaking out. Bruce is freaking out a little.
But, he decides he wants to stay here a little bit longer. Reality will assert itself again soon enough. ]
I want you to.
[ Maybe they can find another moment to do this again. ]
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He doesn't turn around, but keeps holding Bruce's hand to his chest, so Bruce can feel the reassuring thud of his heartbeat and he can feel Bruce's at his wrist.]
Okay.
[It's so easy. It's so simple. Okay.]
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It feels like something deep and quiet settling over him, like having a warm drink after a night out in the cold.
He doesn't want to ever get up. ]
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Once he does get up, he turns to Bruce.]
I'm going to take a shower, okay?
[He gives him a kiss, quick, though.]
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[ He's not reluctant to let go but stays put for a moment longer in the space where they kiss before they part. When Jason's out of sight is when that creeping we shouldn't be doing this feeling returns and settles unhappily in Bruce's gut.
He lays with it for a minute, before he gets up to clean up. By the time Jason returns, the med bay bed is neat and tidy, not a speck of glitter to be seen. Bruce is at the computer, analyzing Jason's blood sample. ]
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He comes out, barefoot, to where Bruce is at the computer, and he doesn't look Bruce in the eye.]
I'm going to...grab one of your extra shirts.
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He doesn't want to think about Jason wandering around in one of his shirts. It feels very domestic. He thinks about it anyway. ]
Are you staying for breakfast?
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He twists his mouth a little.]
I usually get breakfast at the Starlight Diner, when I'm up for it.
[Which isn't a yes or a no.]
I could grab one of Dick's shirts.
[They will not fit right, because Jason is bigger than Dick, and Dick never really went for the extra oversize look.]
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[ he doesnโt take his eyes off the screen; heโs still working. And honestly did not want to risk what might happen if he does look. He doesnโt know what Jason might look like now that heโs clean and clearheaded. Probably every bit as desirable as he had last night, covered in glitter and high as a kite. He doesnโt know what that will do to him and Bruce hated not knowing.
Itโs tacit permission to take one of his. ]
We can go to the diner. Just give me a minute.
[ Jasonโs not the only one who doesnโt want to face Alfred. ]
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He hunts around but then spots-
-oh, it's absolutely one of Dick's shirts. It's slightly larger, but worn, and clean, and it has the bright Superman logo on it, but Jason loops it over his head. On him it's just tight, but it just barely fits, not leaving much to the imagination.]
You know you'll have to be Brucie, right?
[He says it as he goes to get the keys to one of the flashier cars, because Jason likes to drive them on the rare chance he and Bruce are getting along, which, considering what their morning was like, he figures is now.]
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He tells himself not to stare any longer and turns back to the computer to continue organizing the results as they come in. ]
I'll live.
[ When he's at a satisfying stopping point, he steps away for a moment before he comes back dressed a bit differently. A button down sloppily buttoned and ill fitted around the collar. Sunglasses resting on his hair. If he's going to be Brucie, he'll at least look the part. He slides into the passenger seat and gets settled. ]
Ready.
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No complaining.
[Because he's going to speed, he's going to drive like a madman, knowing that the cops don't pull over any of Bruce's cars, and perfectly happy to exploit that.
They get to the diner in record time. Jason hops out, grinning like a maniac.]
C'mon Brucie.
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But, he doesn't complain.
When they reach the diner, Bruce drops his sunglasses and gets out after Jason. He sees Jason's grin and it's funny how he's found the easiest way to get his heart to skip a beat or two.
Anyway.
He walks in ahead of Jason, leans on the hostess station and offers her a tired smile. ]
I really wanna sit in a booth. Tell me you got one of those.
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