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Jason is bright red.
Like a cherry. Or a tomato.
It’s a good look on him, Dick thinks as he watches the big bad Red Hood, scourge of the underworld, creep closer, his body curled in on itself in embarrassment.
“This is really what you want?” The younger man mutters, far enough away that Dick barely manages to hear the words.
Dick rises from the big chair in front of the Batcomputer. Bruce is with the Justice league in space, Damian is off with his team and Tim is off with his own. Alfred has the night off and is visiting his daughter, and Dick told Barbara his plans days ago. She helped him set up a loop for the cave’s security that even Bruce won’t realize is an altered feed if he feels like checking in.
Ok… so Babs didn’t so much as “help” as just do the whole thing herself.
He stops a couple feet away and eyes Jason up and down. Allows his gaze to linger on the yellow collar digging into the younger man’s throat, the seams that tug just a little across his chest, and the green scaly fabric cutting into his hips leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“This is totally what I want,” Dick hums. He makes a show dragging his tongue across his lips just to watch Jason squirm. “I forgot how good you look in my uniform, little wing.”
“My uniform, big bird,” Jason scowls, “don’t make this weirder than it is already.”
Laughing, Dick hooks his gloved fingers into the nonexistent space between the collar of the cape and Jason’s throat. The pressure against his larynx makes the younger man cough and swallow hard and Dick can feel it through the black gloves covering his hands.
“It’s exactly the same as mine and you know it. You looked up to me so much you didn’t change a thing.”
He lets his hands begin to wander as he speaks, pawing at the barely contained muscle beneath the cheap fabric. Well, not cheap. This is best replica “Robin II” costume available to the masses. It’s very convincing. But it’s not up to Bat standards. Not to mention that this is the largest size they carry, and they don’t exactly cater to the bulky, vigilante types. Dick already knows that before he’s through with Jason, he’ll have ripped it to shreds.
“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole,” Jason snorts even though he somehow manages to turn so scarlet his face matches the red of the vest stretched across his chest. “Bruce didn’t give me the option.”
Taking a step back, Jason tilts his head to glance skeptically over Dick’s chosen costume for their night of fun.
“Your original Nightwing suit?” he asks hesitantly, mouth turning down in a small, precious frown. Then he looks around like he’s noticing that they’re in the cave for the first time. “Dick… what exactly is this fantasy of yours?”
“It’s not my fantasy, baby, it’s yours.”
Jason practically chokes. “What?”
“Please. We all know you had a huge crush on me.”
Somehow, Jason manages to turn even redder. If Dick didn’t know better, he’d be worried about the poor boy’s blood pressure.
“Don’t act like that wasn’t mutual, Dickhead.”
“No, of course it was. You were 110 pounds of earnest puppy, totally irresistible. I’ve never been embarrassed about it though,” Dick finishes with a smirk.
“So, this is about embarrassing me?”
“Nah, that’s just a bonus,” Dick coos, taking the step forward that Jason had taken back and dips the tips of his fingers into the band of Robin’s panties (because it doesn’t matter what Bruce says, or Dick’s reasoning and inspiration for the costume… on Jason, they’re panties). “It’s fucking adorable that, no matter how many times we do this shit, you always turn so pink. I love it. It’s my goal in life, ‘make Jason Todd blush as often as possible’ and you make it so damn easy.”
“You are the actual worst. Why do people think you’re the nice one?”
“Because I work very hard to cultivate a persona of perfection, so when I dress up my replacement in my old uniform and defile him, no one will believe him if he says anything.”
Jason’s jaw drops in disbelief, ready to comment. But Dick takes the opportunity to move things along by shoving their mouths together and fucking his tongue against Jason’s.
He slips his hand down the back of the… shorts, past the waistband. Wiggles a finger between Jason’s cheeks, feels the telltale base of the plug he’d given Jason earlier.
It’s unsurprising when the younger man whines almost inaudibly and shifts closer. Dick has spent a lot of time carefully training Jason to need his touch and attention. It wasn’t that difficult. Bruce, for all his many wonderful attributes, has done a pretty stellar job indicating to Jason that he doesn’t want much to do with him. Poor thing is just starved for affection and Dick is more than happy to provide. Jason still tries to fight it for appearance’s sake, but it doesn’t last nearly as long as it used to.
“Now, Robin,” Dick growls as he removes his hand, twists the other fist back into the yellow collar and tugs the taller, bigger man to him in time to feel the shudder that wracks through his body. “You made a number of mistakes on patrol tonight. Careless mistakes. You are more than capable, so I can only assume you want to be punished.”
He pushes Jason away, shoves him so hard and so suddenly that he stumbles and hits the ground by the chair Dick had vacated when he entered.
“Stay,” Dick barks when he moves to rise. “Boys who act like wild animals can stay on all fours like animals.”
Dick openly admires the sight of Jason knelt before him, bare knees holding up the not inconsequential weight of all that muscle as they dig into the unforgiving stone of the cave floor. He leisurely makes his way back to the chair, idly tugging at the hidden opening in the crotch of his Nightwing suit and pulling himself out.
Jason follows his movements with his eyes as Dick settles back into Bruce’s chair but otherwise doesn’t budge. Always so eager to please, despite his bluster.
“I figured Batman would have taught you patience, seeing how crucial it is for this job. But of course, all the hard work falls to me,” Dick admonishes, slowly stroking himself to full hardness as Jason looks pointedly away.
“Come here, little wing,” he says. Then, before Jason more than twitches his direction, adds, “Stay on all fours.”
Swallowing hard, gaze fixed on the floor, Jason crawls over and takes up position beneath the console of the batcomputer between Dick’s widespread thighs. Dick reaches out and tilts Jason’s chin up, but his gaze stays lowered, refusing to look Dick in the eye. He’s always so nervous when they play, like he thinks Dick is going to laugh at him (even though Dick has proven, time and again, that he’s not going to do that).
Dick runs a comforting hand through Jason’s curls and spares a moment to be proud of himself. It was a last-minute thought, telling Jason to leave his hair alone, not to straighten it out the way he’s been doing for a while now. Dick likes the soft, twisted waves, misses them even. Jason looks younger; looks his actual 20 years instead of closer to Dick’s age.
And it really completes the Robin image.
“Good boy,” Dick purrs, smiling as Jason shivers at the praise and leans into the touch on his scalp. “I’m going to get some work finished. I want you clasp your hands behind your back.”
He waits until Jason complies with the order to give the next one.
“Lean forward and open your mouth.”
The briefest moment of hesitation before he does as he’s told. Dick takes his cock in his free hand, pulls Jason the rest of the way forward with his grip on the other’s hair, and slowly, deliberately so that he can watch each achingly hard inch disappear, feeds him the entire length.
“You’ll stay just like that until I tell you otherwise. When I tap your head once, you may swallow. When I tap twice you will very slowly blow me until I tap twice more. Do you understand?”
Jason’s eyes, bright and excited, find his before dropping in submission and he hums an affirmation around the dick stretching his lips. The vibrations make it twitch against his tongue and Jason gives the smallest, most mischievous smirk Dick has ever seen before relaxing his jaw and muscles and settling in for whatever his predecessor has planned.
Dick doesn’t actually do any work. He has two screens devoted to randomized timers, one to remember to tap once to allow Jason to swallow and the other to get a little action.
Instead he plays video games.
He ignores the first timer to let Jason swallow. He can feel how wet he’s getting from the drool that leaks out past the younger man’s lips and Dick is sure he can take a little more discomfort.
Finally, after a couple long minutes, he gives a single tap of his fingertip to the back of Jason’s head. Almost before he lifts the digit, the younger man is slurping around the intrusion halfway down his now fluttering throat.
Suddenly Dick is immensely grateful Jason can’t see his face right now because it’s taking all his concentration not to just fuck the hell out of that slick, warm opening.
That’s for later though. Giving in now would be akin to admitting defeat.
Another tap directs Jason to stop. He does, with a soft whimper that plays like angels singing across Dick’s lust-addled mind.
He allows Jason to swallow once more, using it to get a hold of himself, before he double taps.
Again, it’s all he can do to refrain from tossing his head back and moaning; grabbing hold of the curls in front of him and just going for it.
Because Jason is so fucking good at this it’s unfair. He doesn’t start bobbing immediately. Just lazily alternates between rolling his tongue against Dick’s shaft and hollowing his cheeks to suck on it without moving. It’s the best fucking torture Dick’s ever felt in his life and he can’t stop his hips from twitching up into that talented mouth.
He doesn’t miss the self-satisfied smirk that ticks up a corner of Jason’s mouth before he has to close his eyes and grip the console like his life depends on it as Jason wraps his lips over his teeth and starts a slow, purposeful retreat. He presses down on Dick’s cock with those shielded teeth with just the right amount of pressure and hollows his cheeks.
It’s so sinfully hot, Dick is positive they’ll both go to hell just for this.
He tries to refocus on his game, grateful that he already had the sound off to pretend to be working. Otherwise Jason would be able to hear how many times he dies in the ten minutes he makes the kneeling man keep up that excruciatingly measured pace.
The original plan was to keep this up for a couple hours, really put Jason’s endurance through the ringer. There’s nothing better than an exhausted, malleable Jason Todd whining breathlessly beneath him.
But he’s not really sure he’ll be able to last much longer.
“Good job, Robin,” Dick praises with a pleased lilt, as he taps twice again.
He doesn’t miss the way Jason shudders at the approval as he slips gently back down Dick’s length to settle once more with it deep down his throat.
After the second double-tap, Dick realizes he doesn’t have to deny himself an earlier release and he feels so stupid for not having thought of it before.
So instead of the next single-tap, he twists his fingers into those raven locks and gets a good, firm grip like he’s wanted to for the last hour.
Their eyes meet when he pulls the younger man off him completely. Jason’s lids are hooded over bleary pale teal irises, almost like he had been close to dozing off. His lips are red and glossy wet, parted and panting. His breath wafts over Dick’s spit-slick dick like a cool breeze. The thick strand of saliva linking them is filthy and gorgeous.
Like this, Dick can see the Robin costume from the yellow collar, snug at Jason’s throat, all the way down to the panties, the limits of which are being tested by the wearer’s large erection. The relatively flimsy fabric had never left much to the imagination but the way it’s tented now leaves little gaps to either side of Jason’s groin, providing a peek at the manicured patch of hair and skin beneath. Dick wants so badly to hook his finger in there and rip them off.
Instead he roughly pulls Jason forward, ignoring the little noise of surprise he makes, and uses his cock to force the ex-Robin’s mouth back open as wide as it needs to be.
He gives in to all that hunger. Just uses Jason’s mouth like a fleshlight. And Jason takes it so beautifully, keeps his hands clasped behind his back like he was told, let’s Dick control every movement. It just spurs Dick on, makes him feel wild and reckless. Can’t help but think about how much time they missed while Jason was either pretending not to like him or dead.
Which leads to the image of happy, lanky, teen Jason, not quite grown into his frame, eyes still sky blue, no hint of green in sight. Still so eager to please, to prove himself, even after years as Robin. That one almost-moment they’d shared on one of Jason’s rare visits to the Titans. How maybe things would have turned out differently if they’d gone for it. If he’d been a little less responsible and not pulled Jason up from his knees back then.
His imagination runs with that image. Remembering his room back at the Tower, nudging his near-doppelganger wearing his Robin uniform to his knees and having his way with him. Pushing his hips flush to Robin’s face, just like he is now. Holding his head still and fucking his cute innocent face, just like he is now.
Because somehow, despite everything that has happened to him and everything he’s done, Jason still manages to look as innocent as a puppy.
While he doesn’t last as long as he would under normal circumstances, Dick lasts longer than he expects.
After he hits his climax, he jerks Jason back by the curls and uses his other hand to aim and stroke himself through it, painting Jason’s face with warm come.
Jason is panting hard, sucking down big gulps of air, sticky white globs dripping slowly from his eyebrow to his already wet lashes, his raw upper lip to his bottom, across his flushed cheekbone.
Admiring his work, Dick reaches forward and spreads the drop on his lip like gloss. Jason tilts into the touch, tongue slipping out to take Dick’s thumb into his mouth. He sucks lightly at it and gives tiny little nibbles to the skin and nail.
Dick is so mesmerized that he almost forgets this isn’t supposed to be the end.
He guides a surprised Jason back down, his soft cock poking at bruised mouth for reentry.
“We’re not done yet, little wing,” he hums happily as Jason’s lips part for him once more, “You’ll keep me warm until I’m ready to go again.”
Tiredly, Jason slumps his shoulders forward and rolls his eyes. But he still hasn’t even shifted his weight from knee to knee, let alone used their safe-word.
Although, Jason’s a stubborn bastard. Nearly as much as Bruce or even Dick himself. And even more desperate to accommodate. In all the time they’ve been doing this, he’s never once used it. Dick tries not to take advantage of that too often. But Jason seems to enjoy doing whatever Dick asks him to.
Here anyway.
He’s not quite as accommodating in the field.
It’s probably only about ten minutes later when Dick feels his cock twitch in renewed interest.
And he must be the luckiest asshole in the multiverse because he hesitates, spares a couple minutes to accomplish the dual purposes of making Jason wait longer and finish his current mission in his game.
Otherwise he would have been balls deep in Jason’s ass when Bruce’s priority override auto-connects his call to the Batcomputer’s video chat.
“Bruce?!”
Dick’s surprise is echoed by a muted choking sound as Jason tries to gasp and just ends up swallowing Dick’s cock deeper into his throat. Only the hand Dick has on the back of Jason’s head keeps the younger man from pulling off him and thumping his head loudly on the underside of the console.
“Dick. You’re in the cave?” Bruce’s frowns are a subtle language, but it’s one all bats learn quickly. This is one of mild surprise and less mild suspicion.
“Yup. Just, you know, holding down the fort,” he says brightly, giving Bruce his best unconcerned grin.
“Cave security shows no one present but it also seems to be looped. Have you noticed anything unusual?”
“Nope. Just the usual. Bats flying around, gettin’ freaky.”
Jason pinches the back of his calf in warning. Now’s not the time to be clever, it says.
But Dick is rock hard at almost being caught; at the knowledge that Jason’s mouth is stretched around his cock while he talks to Bruce. Jason must feel it throbbing.
Dick taps his head twice and gets another, harder, pinch in response. So he flicks Jason’s ear and double-taps again, more insistently.
He’s pretty sure he can hear Jason’s eyes roll in his head. But he starts sucking again all the same.
“Oh,” he says, continuing his conversation with Bruce with only a moment’s hesitation, as though he just remembered, “Babs said she’s doing some diagnostics and upgrades to the monitoring system.”
“She failed to mention this to me.”
“You’re kind of out of town, B. She tried to call two days ago. You must not have had service.”
“Hnn.”
“You… don’t believe me?” He manages to sound a little hurt. Despite the fact that Jason is digging his tongue into the slit at the tip of his dick. “Why would I lie to you about that?”
Bruce considers him for a moment.
“So passed the seasons then, so they will pass in times to come,” he finally says.
Sighing, Dick rolls his eyes. “Hope, however faint, bringeth a gleam into the darkness.”
The phrases are purposefully altered quotes from Dick’s favorite book. A code to suss out impostors.
The man on the screen just grunts his approval.
“You know you’re totally paranoid, right?”
“It’s not paranoia when it’s founded, Dick.”
“Are we good, though? It’s a quiet night and I was in the middle of a roleplaying game.”
That one gets him a little teeth.
“Yeah we’re—why are you wear the original Nightwing suit?”
That frown on Batman’s face is all confusion.
“Uh…” Dick’s fumbles for the first even remotely plausible excuse. Which is probably why he settles on a pretty flimsy one. “My current suits are a little banged up and I was just feeling a little nostalgic. Like I said, it’s pretty quiet.”
Bruce is very obviously eyeing him skeptically behind the lenses of his cowl.
“Stay out of trouble, Dick.”
“Of course, B.”
The screen goes black and Dick gives into the urge to thrust up to meet Jason’s latest downward plunge. But other than that he waits a couple minutes. Just to be safe. Just in case Bruce tries to catch him with his pants down. Literally.
When he’s confident Bruce isn’t coming back, he grabs fistfuls of yellow cape and hauls Jason up to his feet.
“Hey—jesus—” Jason grumbles half-heartedly as Dick growls, shoves his torso atop the console and layers himself over Jason’s back.
“You just sucked my cock while I talked to Bruce,” Dick rumbles into his ear before rolling the lobe between his teeth. Jason hisses but his hips press back against Dick’s painfully hard erection. “Kind of felt like sneaking around in high school again.”
“For you maybe,” Jason grunts as Dick grinds against him. “I didn’t get around much back then, even considering the whole dying thing—ahh!”
He yelps when Dick places a sharp slap on the stretched-thin green fabric, barely containing Jason’s ass.
“None of that, Robin. I’ve got your six now. I will never let anything happen to my little wing.”
Jason shivers and his muscles relax and if it isn’t the sweetest thing Dick’s ever seen he can’t remember what beats it.
“Fuck, Jay. I’m going to just wreck you.”
He doesn’t bother taking off the panties. He just curls his finger under the fabric on the left side and pulls it across Jason’s ass to the other side. The waistband on the left digs into Jason’s skin unforgivingly. There is a red line down the side of Jason's left cheek, curling under his buttock, from where the too small garment dug tightly into his flesh. Dick takes a moment to trace the mark with his tongue.
He's already feeling drunk even before he takes the Nightwing plug he’d had Jason use to open himself up earlier and wiggles it around. He plays with it for a little bit, pulling it part way out and letting it sink back in, drinking up all the little grunts and gasps Jason tries to stop escaping.
Finally he pulls it out and presses it to Jason’s lips. “Hold onto this for me.”
Jason swallows hard and moistens his lips before tentatively opening his mouth. Dick slips it in gently, takes a moment to fuck Jason’s mouth with it before moving on to the main event.
He had used plenty of lube. The furled ring is wet and fluttering as Jason anticipates getting stuck on Dick’s dick.
Gentle isn’t really on the menu tonight. But he still takes his time for first bit, watching as Jason’s hole greedily sucks him in inch by inch.
Then he lets loose.
Slams into the man beneath him with feral strength. Each gasp and shout just urges him on. One hand keeps the little green panties off to the side so he can see where he’s fucking his little wing raw, watching that glorious little hole stretch around him and turn red with the abuse. The other has the cape twisted around his grip to keep Jason’s head up and back arched.
“Yes, Dick—god… fuck,” Jason moans. Strings of expletives and nonsense, curses and prayers, fall pleadingly from his mouth between breathless panting.
The green fabric finally gives, tearing under Dick’s death grip.
That is about as much as he can stand. He needs to be closer.
Releasing the cape and what’s left of the Robin shorts, Dick leans forward, wraps his arms around to the front of Jason, up his chest to hook over his shoulders. The leverage is better, he can pull the younger man down onto each up thrust.
He can feel the pounding of Jason’s heart in his chest, in the pulse point on his throat where Dick presses his lips. Hears the harsh exhale of breath he punches out of those lungs.
It tips him over the edge. He buries himself as deep into Jason as he can get and lets his release stake his claim.
They stay like that for a long while, both trying to catch their breath. Both content as they are; in no hurry to move.
Dick knows he’s the only thing holding Jason up. That the younger man’s legs must still be pins and needles from being on his knees for so long.
So Dick braces himself for Jason’s bulk. His little wing is bigger than him now. Only by a couple inches and a few pounds but it still makes him so happy that tiny, undernourished homeless kid grew up so big and strong.
He pulls Jason with him, careful not to break their connection, as he sits back in the big chair. He reaches around and coaxes the plug from where Jason still bites down on the stem then sets it aside, within easy reach for when he finally pulls out.
Jason is boneless, as expected, but drops his head to Dick’s shoulder and give a small nip to his throat.
“That was fucking fantastic,” Jason rasps, voice cracking.
Dick kisses his sweat-damp curls. “Of course it was. I take care of what’s mine. And you are mine, little wing.”