[ An invitation that Bruce accepts. He strokes Jason, taking his time to enjoy the warmth and weight of his cock in his hand. He's missed him. He's missed this too. But there's something all encompassing about Jason. If he's not careful, Jason could give him tunnel vision.
He moves his hand in a lazy motion, taking his time to draw it out. See how long Jason could last. It's been two months. ]
[He takes a breath that seems to stutter like words, and it makes him moan as Bruce's hand, thick and scarred and callused, touches him. His cock is weeping precome.
He nods, mutely at first.]
Every damned day.
At first, it was just when I wanted you to not follow me, but that didn't last. By the end I just wanted to be home, I just wanted to be here with you.
[Jason is being open now, because right now, right now, this is everything. In a few hours he'll harden up again, he'll keep this to himself.]
I kept thinking you would be furious at me when I got back. You wouldn't want me back.
[ Maybe at first, he would have been angry. If Jason had only been gone a day. A week. Two weeks. Enough to notice his absence, maybe that would have gotten Bruce to burn all that quiet longing under the heat of his rage.
But when month one bled into month two, any anger he might have felt sputtered into nothing. Because all he could think was how much he missed Jason. How empty things felt when he had to sleep those fistful of hours alone. ]
I will always want you.
[ A vulnerability for vulnerability. Bruce doesn't do those well, but Jason's openness feels overwhelming. ]
[He leans down and kisses Bruce on the mouth, as if by doing that he can swallow the words, consume them entirely, as if they can sweeten the sour things that sometimes linger between them. Right now, he doesn't care.]
I want you to fuck me. Right now. Lube's in the bedside drawer.
[Jason knows the Bruce can turn them over, even though Jason is big, almost as big as Batman, now.]
[ He hears what Jason says and decides right then, it's all he wants too. Turning them over isn't hard, even though Jason is nearly as big as he is. But Bruce knows how to leverage his weight and his size, knows how to swing his hips and use his hands and put Jason on his back as if he weighed nothing. He shifts around, puts himself between Jason's thighs and then takes his time, mouths his way down Jason's neck and across his shoulders and chest. Savors the taste of him, like Bruce is dying of thirst. Returns the favor by sucking a mark into his skin. Then he sits up to take in the sight of him.
It's only a moment he'll have to look away to reach for the drawer and find the lube, but it feels like a moment too long. But he does reach for it eventually, tugging the drawer open and reaching for the bottle. Drags his free hand up Jason's thigh, blunt nails tracing nonsense patterns into his skin. ]
[The movement, Bruce manhandling them, it goes right to Jason's cock, a throb that almost hurts him he wants it so badly. He whines through his nose and arches his back, grabbing a pillow to stuff under his hips.]
Do you want me to beg for it? I'll beg for it, just fuck me now.
[So, not patient, not at all, not a little. He reaches down to catch Bruce's hand, but he doesn't move it. Instead he holds it, tight, squeezes.]
[ Of course. It's been two months. There's a lecture about self control on the tip of his tongue, but then he decides it could wait. He's generous with the lube, uses one hand to spread it a bit before he slicks it between Jason's cheeks, pressing a finger into him to open him up a bit.
The other hand Jason takes and he laces their fingers together and brings Jason's up to his mouth to kiss. ]
Maybe I do. You are gorgeous when you're desperate for me.
[ Only two months and Bruce feels like he might combust. He works his fingers to get him open and to hear the way Jason hisses. He's beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
His fingers slip free to lube himself up so they wouldn't have to wait anymore. He surgea forward, pressing his mouth to Jason's to taste him because he's missed that taste, while he lines himself up. ]
[He pushes himself back onto Bruce's cock, even as he uses his legs to pull Bruce forward, because he has no patience, and whines when he can't get Bruce inside of him that way.]
[Jason's whine gets louder, higher pitched, and he rocks onto Bruce. He feels so full, so completely taken, and it makes him want more, makes him impossibly needy even though he knows he has everything. He presses his fingers into Bruce's back, digging into the muscle as he tries to pull him closer, get more of him.
He thinks he's going to go insane.]
B, how the hell am I supposed to think about anything else, ever, how the fuck am I supposed to-
-shit, right there-
[He groans and tips his head to catch Bruce's mouth, and bites his bottom lip. He thinks he tastes the iron of blood but he doesn't care, unless Bruce complains.]
[ For once, Bruce didn't have an answer. It's too much and he can't think clearly, or at all. He just feels Jason's body move underneath him and it feels incredible. How he managed two months without this, without Jason, Bruce would never know. ]
Don't want you thinking about anything else.
[ Nothing at all. Just them and this moment and all of the moments that will follow. ]
Just me. Just us. [ The teeth sinking into his lip stings, but the pain only makes him want more and more. Everything Jason could possibly give him. ]
They're going to have a talk about it. They're going to have to discuss feelings and Jason knows that this could go haywire, this could go in so many weird and bad directions. Neither of them have much of a good track record with this.
But right now he thinks his eyes are rolling all the way to the back of his skull, and he reaches between them to grip his cock and try and both finish and to stave off the orgasm.
One urge wins out, through, and he strokes himself even as his cock is rubbing against Bruce's abs, and when he comes it's with a cry of surprise.]
[ He knew it was an eventuality. Two months of no contact and Jason had all but consumed his thoughts. They would have to talk about it eventually. The sooner, the better. There's some small part that's ready for it.
The rest feels ready to retreat.
But he doesn't have the good sense to stop himself. Not when Jason is here and it feels like he's everywhere all at once. Not when his brain feels like tv static and all he can hear is Jason's breathing and that cry of surprise. It bubbles up inside of him, like a warm drink on a cold night. Like an orgasm he doesn't have the fortitude to stop. ]
I love you.
[ He should have stopped, but he doesn't. Not until he feels empty and spent. ]
[At first he thinks he’s hearing things on the bright, beautiful comedown. He thinks that his thoughts are echoing what he wants to hear, and it takes him a second to register that the words, thick and deep against his own chest, they’re real, as is the bright intensity of Bruce’s own orgasm.
It’s so much that Jason worries he might start crying at the same time that he doesn’t care if he does. Instead he leans his head forward to kiss Bruce, again, the hand on Bruce’s back moving to cup the back of his neck instead. He breathes the smell of him like he can memorialize this, even as Bruce is pulling away a little in sticky motions of hot and sweaty bodies.]
[ The gravity of it doesn't weigh him down. Not at first. He's too blissful and boneless and satisfied to feel it. Jason's hand on the back of his neck feels like the only thing keeping him from simply floating away. But when it starts to subside, it drags him back down to earth with a bone-crushing kind of force.
Jason doesn't say it back, and he doesn't panic--he never panics, but he feels unsettled. Now that he's given that nebulous feeling living in his chest words, it's real and tangible and he can't take it back. He's not sure he wants to and that, somehow, makes it worse. Bruce isn't sure what he wants. So when he finally untangles himself from Jason, he rolls over to his side of the bed and takes a moment to breathe.
He said he would stay. But right now? All he wants to do is slip back into the shadows and disappear into the night. Maybe he would, once Jason is sleeping. ]
[Jason watches this for a minute, and maybe, because he's stupid, he thinks: oh, this is fine.
He reaches for Bruce's hand when they untangle.]
B.
Stay.
[He had asked him to stay, earlier. He thinks that's what he's saying now, too, and I love you too and I love you but I don't know how to form the words and you should know it, I love you, except that when it comes out of his mouth it sounds like stay.
But the pleasure is thick in his voice and thick against his body, and he's so tired. He wants to wake up with Bruce right there, and he wants to be able to tell him, when he doesn't feel tangled up in the headiness of a post-orgasmic haze.]
[ Bruce decides it's okay if he doesn't say it back. It feels a little like suffocating, but it's for the best really. He shouldn't have let this go on for so long. The first time should have been the last. He should have controlled himself. But that was a problem he intended to fix.
His fingers curl around Jason's hand when he reaches for him and he rolls onto his side so he can look at him for a minute. And he decides: Jason was never the mistake. How could he be? When he makes this city a more bearable place just by being in it? Jason isn't the mistake. Loving him isn't the mistake. It's Bruce. He lifts that hand to his lips and kisses it. Almost like a goodbye. ]
[He's warm; he's happy. He loves him and there's Bruce, kissing him, and Jason grips his hand. It feels like being accepted again, the first time that Jason's felt this way in a long, long time. Maybe ever.
He nudges in a little closer, just enough to smile and put one hand on Bruce's thigh.
He thinks; I love you and get some rest and he hears I'll be right here.]
Okay B.
[He's already half-drowsing, too high on endorphins to know the mess that Bruce is going to make as soon as he thinks that he can move without waking Jason up.]
[ He stays, for however long it takes for Jason to sleep and when it's safe, Bruce slips away and into the night. It pained him, like being stabbed in the heart and being left to bleed out. But it's for the best. Life would go on. It had to.
However Jason tries to reach out to him in the ensuing hours are ignored. At least, until Jason forces him to pay attention. ]
[He wakes up to a cold bed and he didn't expect that, but he doesn't think it's bad; he thinks that Bruce got a call or something, so he just messages him with a woke up, thinking of you kind of thing, and waited.
And heard nothing.
He messages a couple more times that day, but doesn't think too much of it, doesn't worry, until later, until a day passes and then another. He knows that Bruce is okay, because he spots him in the night, because he hasn't heard word otherwise and he would have heard if Bruce Wayne was dead.
So by night three he's furious at getting ghosted, and his messages start getting mean, but-
-but then his temper catches up with him and Jason can't take it anymore. He knows it's a tantrum. He knows it's childish, but still, he comes to the cave when Bruce isn't there, even more annoyed that while Bruce is being a bitch he hasn't locked him out. He can't possibly explain why it's so annoying, but it is.
He knows he's on camera, too, so he casually flips the camera the bird, and then-
-and then he disassembles the backup server, grabs the Batcomputer, dumps it in one of the cars, and takes the car. He knows he's going to be running on time when Bruce catches wind and disables it remotely, but by the time the car starts to slow down Jason just grabs the computer and starts hauling it on foot to his closest safehouse.
It turns out to be a safehouse that all the Robins use, but that isn't important. He's not really trying to hide.]
[ If he's going to let this go, he has to cut the cord. So Bruce silences all of Jason's correspondence, except on the emergency line. If Jason really needed him, Bruce would be there. But he wouldn't entertain anything else. He couldn't. It made life difficult, but Bruce could deal with difficulty. He's trained by it, honed by it. It just didn't make missing Jason any easier.
But he managed. Three whole days before he considered reaching out. But he suits up for patrol instead and throws himself into the work. His cowl alerts him while he broods on one of the tower buildings littering Gotham's skyline. A disturbance in the cave. One of the backup servers returns an offline status and Bruce didn't need to to check the surveillance or the log of the most recent visitors. He knew immediately who the culprit is and he's swooping off into the night to confront him.
The tracker embedded in the server leads him to the safehouse and he comes in through the window, ready to greet Jason. He's not hostile. A little annoyed -- he's going to have to replace that server -- but not angry. ]
If you needed information, you could have just asked.
He is sitting with the computer between them, a hammer in hand, because he will absolutely go berserk if he feels like he needs to. He is on the floor with his long leg curved around the computer, no less.]
Oh, is that how I could have gotten you to answer your phone?
All the texts I sent, like the ones asking you to call me, they weren't enough?
[ He's angry enough for the both of them. Bruce wants to reach for him, pull him up and tug him into his arms. But he keeps his distance. Less so because Jason might try to hurt and more because Bruce needed to keep his resolve in tact. ]
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He moves his hand in a lazy motion, taking his time to draw it out. See how long Jason could last. It's been two months. ]
Did you think about me while you were gone?
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He nods, mutely at first.]
Every damned day.
At first, it was just when I wanted you to not follow me, but that didn't last. By the end I just wanted to be home, I just wanted to be here with you.
[Jason is being open now, because right now, right now, this is everything. In a few hours he'll harden up again, he'll keep this to himself.]
I kept thinking you would be furious at me when I got back. You wouldn't want me back.
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But when month one bled into month two, any anger he might have felt sputtered into nothing. Because all he could think was how much he missed Jason. How empty things felt when he had to sleep those fistful of hours alone. ]
I will always want you.
[ A vulnerability for vulnerability. Bruce doesn't do those well, but Jason's openness feels overwhelming. ]
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I want you to fuck me. Right now. Lube's in the bedside drawer.
[Jason knows the Bruce can turn them over, even though Jason is big, almost as big as Batman, now.]
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It's only a moment he'll have to look away to reach for the drawer and find the lube, but it feels like a moment too long. But he does reach for it eventually, tugging the drawer open and reaching for the bottle. Drags his free hand up Jason's thigh, blunt nails tracing nonsense patterns into his skin. ]
How patient are you feeling?
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[The movement, Bruce manhandling them, it goes right to Jason's cock, a throb that almost hurts him he wants it so badly. He whines through his nose and arches his back, grabbing a pillow to stuff under his hips.]
Do you want me to beg for it? I'll beg for it, just fuck me now.
[So, not patient, not at all, not a little. He reaches down to catch Bruce's hand, but he doesn't move it. Instead he holds it, tight, squeezes.]
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The other hand Jason takes and he laces their fingers together and brings Jason's up to his mouth to kiss. ]
Maybe I do. You are gorgeous when you're desperate for me.
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He hooks one leg up, knee up, to give Bruce a little more room and arches up so that as much of him is against Bruce as possible. Christ almighty.]
I better be fucking glowing now, then, because the only thing I can think of is you, B, there isn't anyone else in the whole fucking world who can-
[Bruce's fingers move and Jason hisses in pleasure.]
I want you, you, not anyone else, I want your body and your hands, please, come on-
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His fingers slip free to lube himself up so they wouldn't have to wait anymore. He surgea forward, pressing his mouth to Jason's to taste him because he's missed that taste, while he lines himself up. ]
Then one day you can fuck me.
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What the fuc-
[He pushes himself back onto Bruce's cock, even as he uses his legs to pull Bruce forward, because he has no patience, and whines when he can't get Bruce inside of him that way.]
You can't say that an not mean it-
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[ He grunts, harsh and low as he helps Jason get the angle right so his cock can start sinking into him. ]
--Mean it. [ he leans in and kisses his jaw, right beneath Jason's ear. ]
I want to feel you in me.
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He thinks he's going to go insane.]
B, how the hell am I supposed to think about anything else, ever, how the fuck am I supposed to-
-shit, right there-
[He groans and tips his head to catch Bruce's mouth, and bites his bottom lip. He thinks he tastes the iron of blood but he doesn't care, unless Bruce complains.]
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Don't want you thinking about anything else.
[ Nothing at all. Just them and this moment and all of the moments that will follow. ]
Just me. Just us. [ The teeth sinking into his lip stings, but the pain only makes him want more and more. Everything Jason could possibly give him. ]
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Just us.
They're going to have a talk about it. They're going to have to discuss feelings and Jason knows that this could go haywire, this could go in so many weird and bad directions. Neither of them have much of a good track record with this.
But right now he thinks his eyes are rolling all the way to the back of his skull, and he reaches between them to grip his cock and try and both finish and to stave off the orgasm.
One urge wins out, through, and he strokes himself even as his cock is rubbing against Bruce's abs, and when he comes it's with a cry of surprise.]
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The rest feels ready to retreat.
But he doesn't have the good sense to stop himself. Not when Jason is here and it feels like he's everywhere all at once. Not when his brain feels like tv static and all he can hear is Jason's breathing and that cry of surprise. It bubbles up inside of him, like a warm drink on a cold night. Like an orgasm he doesn't have the fortitude to stop. ]
I love you.
[ He should have stopped, but he doesn't. Not until he feels empty and spent. ]
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It’s so much that Jason worries he might start crying at the same time that he doesn’t care if he does. Instead he leans his head forward to kiss Bruce, again, the hand on Bruce’s back moving to cup the back of his neck instead. He breathes the smell of him like he can memorialize this, even as Bruce is pulling away a little in sticky motions of hot and sweaty bodies.]
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Jason doesn't say it back, and he doesn't panic--he never panics, but he feels unsettled. Now that he's given that nebulous feeling living in his chest words, it's real and tangible and he can't take it back. He's not sure he wants to and that, somehow, makes it worse. Bruce isn't sure what he wants. So when he finally untangles himself from Jason, he rolls over to his side of the bed and takes a moment to breathe.
He said he would stay. But right now? All he wants to do is slip back into the shadows and disappear into the night. Maybe he would, once Jason is sleeping. ]
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He reaches for Bruce's hand when they untangle.]
B.
Stay.
[He had asked him to stay, earlier. He thinks that's what he's saying now, too, and I love you too and I love you but I don't know how to form the words and you should know it, I love you, except that when it comes out of his mouth it sounds like stay.
But the pleasure is thick in his voice and thick against his body, and he's so tired. He wants to wake up with Bruce right there, and he wants to be able to tell him, when he doesn't feel tangled up in the headiness of a post-orgasmic haze.]
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His fingers curl around Jason's hand when he reaches for him and he rolls onto his side so he can look at him for a minute. And he decides: Jason was never the mistake. How could he be? When he makes this city a more bearable place just by being in it? Jason isn't the mistake. Loving him isn't the mistake. It's Bruce. He lifts that hand to his lips and kisses it. Almost like a goodbye. ]
Get some rest.
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He nudges in a little closer, just enough to smile and put one hand on Bruce's thigh.
He thinks; I love you and get some rest and he hears I'll be right here.]
Okay B.
[He's already half-drowsing, too high on endorphins to know the mess that Bruce is going to make as soon as he thinks that he can move without waking Jason up.]
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However Jason tries to reach out to him in the ensuing hours are ignored. At least, until Jason forces him to pay attention. ]
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And heard nothing.
He messages a couple more times that day, but doesn't think too much of it, doesn't worry, until later, until a day passes and then another. He knows that Bruce is okay, because he spots him in the night, because he hasn't heard word otherwise and he would have heard if Bruce Wayne was dead.
So by night three he's furious at getting ghosted, and his messages start getting mean, but-
-but then his temper catches up with him and Jason can't take it anymore. He knows it's a tantrum. He knows it's childish, but still, he comes to the cave when Bruce isn't there, even more annoyed that while Bruce is being a bitch he hasn't locked him out. He can't possibly explain why it's so annoying, but it is.
He knows he's on camera, too, so he casually flips the camera the bird, and then-
-and then he disassembles the backup server, grabs the Batcomputer, dumps it in one of the cars, and takes the car. He knows he's going to be running on time when Bruce catches wind and disables it remotely, but by the time the car starts to slow down Jason just grabs the computer and starts hauling it on foot to his closest safehouse.
It turns out to be a safehouse that all the Robins use, but that isn't important. He's not really trying to hide.]
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But he managed. Three whole days before he considered reaching out. But he suits up for patrol instead and throws himself into the work. His cowl alerts him while he broods on one of the tower buildings littering Gotham's skyline. A disturbance in the cave. One of the backup servers returns an offline status and Bruce didn't need to to check the surveillance or the log of the most recent visitors. He knew immediately who the culprit is and he's swooping off into the night to confront him.
The tracker embedded in the server leads him to the safehouse and he comes in through the window, ready to greet Jason. He's not hostile. A little annoyed -- he's going to have to replace that server -- but not angry. ]
If you needed information, you could have just asked.
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He is sitting with the computer between them, a hammer in hand, because he will absolutely go berserk if he feels like he needs to. He is on the floor with his long leg curved around the computer, no less.]
Oh, is that how I could have gotten you to answer your phone?
All the texts I sent, like the ones asking you to call me, they weren't enough?
[He looks angry enough for the both of them.]
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If you wanted my attention, you have it.
Talk to me.
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