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MAY
It’s been a slow night; Jason’s considering heading back to his agency to get some sleep on his uncomfortable couch in his office. It’s got a groove from his very large body, complete with singe marks on the arms, because he’s been sleeping there since his divorce. Bizarro cries whenever he catches Jason there in the morning. Jason makes one last scan of the streets below the rooftop he’s occupying, there’s no movement; deciding to finish patrol is easy. Or it was, right up until he hears the familiar swoosh of wings that means Nightwing’s come to bother him on patrol again.
“Red Hood, the Number Hero in Gotham!” Nightwing says with that annoying magazine smile. “How’s it going?” It had been going fine until Nightwing decided to remind him of his new ranking since the Bat’s retirement. The boy has the most absurd habit of telling Jason about his own life.
“Fine. Why are you here Nightwing?” Jason draws himself up to his full height, crossing his arms and letting his flames fan out for a moment. It’s apparently intimidating as all hell, which is why Jason does it so often. As expected, Nightwing pauses, his eyes widening, blue wings quaking in the updraft. Good. But then Nightwing’s eyes slide to half-mast, and that sly smirk slips onto his face again. It should be annoying that Nightwing gets over his intimidation so quickly, but it’s actually reassuring. Jason’s pushed away pretty much everyone in his life, and not just with his flames; that there are still a handful of people who can move past his behaviour is... Well, it’s nice for lack of a better word.
“Oh, are you having one of those nights, big guy? You know I was just saying to Arsenal...” Nightwing chirps, hopping a step closer; Jason tunes him out, hearing the faintest of tinks down below. A glass bottle being kicked, possibly.
“Oh, come on Red Hood, it’s really rude to ignore a guy, you know!” Nightwing says, suddenly appearing at Jason’s elbow. “Also, no need to worry about the alley, it’s just a cat.” Sure enough, a few seconds later, a perplexed cat is rising through the air, held aloft by one of Nightwing’s blue feathers. It floats over to a nearby balcony, depositing the cat, who slips inside the open window, before returning to Nightwing’s back.
“Why are you here, boy?” Jason grits out, hoping to cut down on Nightwing’s rambling monologues that he claims are ‘banter’. As usual, Nightwing stills whenever Jason takes that tone with him; his wings quivering, and his luminous blue eyes widening once more.
“I was passing by, and wanted to drop in and see how my favourite hero is doing?” Dick tilts his head, looking more like a bird than ever. Some people call him angelic. Jason is not one of those people. Those people have never seen the frankly disgusting amounts of food; cereal and stuffed mushrooms being the main two; that Nightwing likes to guzzle down on a daily basis. Jason’s not entirely sure the boy has a gag reflex.
Jason just stares at him unamused. It’s not that the concern Nightwing’s dancing around is unwelcome; it’s an open secret that Jason’s marriage imploded in a horrific way, and that consequently, Jason’s being putting in a lot of hard work to become a better person. No, it’s that Nightwing’s never honest with him. As if the boy can’t help but lie about his motivations, and that’s what ticks Jason off.
“Try again.” Jason’s flames flare out again, and Nightwing’s eyes widen as he bites his lip.
“I was passing by, feeling hungry and I thought, Red Hood has to know the best place to get food at 4am in the Narrows. So, here I am?” Nightwing says slowly, eyes drifting up to the tops of Jason’s flames and then back down to where his fists are clenched to his thighs.
“Boy, the only place open this time of the morning that isn’t a mafia front is the Dog House.” Jason’s stance loosens, looking down at the winged hero. Who at twenty-two, isn’t a boy anymore than Jason, in his mid-thirties, is, yet somehow he seems... Apparently unburdened by this hero-ing life.
“Hotdogs? I haven’t had a hotdog in years...” Nightwing says with far more enthusiasm than Jason thinks hotdogs warrant; and this coming from a man whose favourite food is chilli dogs. “Ha, the hero with the flame powers likes Hotdogs... I can feel the puns coming on.”
“I will roast you.” Jason growls, but Nightwing doesn’t even flinch.
“I would pay good money to see you roast wieners, Hood!” Nightwing grins, jumping up to perch on his toes on Jason’s shoulder, his wings acting as a perfect counterweight.
“I’m sure there’s porn of that out there somewhere.” Jason mutters, turning his flames down so that Nightwing, or his feathers, don’t get singed.
“There’s definitely some art of you hotdogging some very lucky...” Nightwing trails off, before he manages to rally; clearly trying to get fluster Jason with his teasing. “Uh. Yes. So, how do you like your buns, Hood? Toasted? Plain? Spread open, and ready for a large ...Dog?”
“Your puns are the wurst.” Jason mutters, keeping his face very still as Nightwing whips around to face him; his wings spreading out so he doesn’t topple over.
“You’re right.” Nightwing sighs mournfully, until a smirk slinks onto his face. “My puns have gone to the dogs.”
“No. Stop. Or I won’t feed you.” Jason sighs, knowing that it’s a lost battle already.
“But I relish any chance to make a pun, Hood!” Nightwing crows, lifting off Jason’s shoulder, his wings flapping slowly but powerfully. “And you can’t back out on a date.”
“This is not a date.” Jason says hesitantly. Why would the most popular, attractive, young hero in Gotham be even remotely interested in a hopeless case like Jason?
“It could be, if you let it.” Nightwing chirps blithely, but the tightness around his eyes makes Jason think he’s not as casual about this as he’s pretending to be.
JUNE
Jason stops outside his office door when he hears voices; mostly because there shouldn’t be anyone in his office right now.
“What am Bird-Him think? Boss-Him made it.” Bizarro’s voice carries easily through the sheer glass office door. Bizarro runs his hands down the uniform that Jason had designed for him; there wasn’t much point in having the number one ranked hero agency in Gotham if he couldn’t supply his employees with suitable uniforms and equipment. The fact that Jason actually enjoys designing them is irrelevant, really.
“Oooh, so Red Hood’s not just a DILF, he’s really good at making uniforms! Good to know.” Nightwing says, a pleased and oddly proud trill in his tone. “You look great, Bizarro.”
“Bird-Him, what am DILF?” Bizarro says, tilting his head in confusion. Jason opens the door to prevent Nightwing from explaining the term, and corrupting the gentle giant forever.
“OH LOOK, TIME TO FLY, SEE YOU LATER BIZ!” Nightwing half-screams as he jumps up from his perch on Jason’s desk, flying out of the room, passing Jason by at speed and hurtling down the corridor.
Unfortunately for Nightwing, Artemis rounds the corner before he can get there. “Catch the pigeon, Artemis!” Jason yells.
Artemis raises one arm and wraps her hand around Nightwing’s ankle as he flies past her, stopping him with ease. Nightwing flaps his wings harder trying to drag Artemis with him, but with her superstrength, it’s a losing battle. He continues to try even as she walks ever closer to Jason. By the time she’s standing next to Jason, her arm fully extended in front of her, Nightwing’s given up the fight, and is hanging by his ankle, his limp wings brushing the floor. “Your pet bird, Jason?”
“Thanks Artemis.” Jason gives her a brief smile, gone almost before it began. He takes Nightwing by his other ankle, only to watch as with two flaps of his wings, he’s twisted himself up to perch on Jason’s outstretched arm.
“Hood, fancy seeing you here!” Dick chirps brightly, as if he hadn’t just been dragged along by Artemis.
“Fancy seeing me; right outside my office. What’re the odds.” Jason says flatly, whipping his arm back and then forward, so that his hand settles on Nightwing’s upper back between his blue wings. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an annoyance to throw out the window.” Jason pushes Nightwing into his office, waiting for Bizarro to walk out and close the door behind him.
“Ah, wait, Hood! I actually have to talk to you.” Dick tugs uselessly at Jason’s arm, digging his heels in to the plush carpet.
“If you want to share intel, Nightwing, make an appointment.” Jason growls, still annoyed at the near corruption of his innocent employee.
“Oh come on, we’re friends now, what’s a little dropping by unannounced between friends!” Nightwing tries, smiling up at Jason. “You should call me Dick.”
“Dick.” Jason repeats tonelessly.
“Since it’s my name.” Nightwing, Dick, says with a slight flush to his face. “Uh, it’s not intel. I wanted to pay you back for the hotdogs, so I thought I’d treat you to dinner?”
“It’s not a good idea.” Jason says, releasing Dick from his grip suddenly enough that he very nearly stumbles.
“I think us going on a date is a great idea!” Dick says with an optimistic smile. “We’re both single, the number one and two heroes; we could be Gotham’s ultimate powercouple!”
“Dick, I’m barely out of a really nasty divorce, what makes you think I’m relationship material?” Jason sighs, resisting the urge to burn something to ash with his fists.
“Look, I don’t know the details...” Dick says, a serious look crossing his face. “But I’ve been a fan of yours since I can remember. We work well together in the field; I think we could be good together in private too.”
“My ex-wife thought that too, and look what happened.” Jason crosses his arms, forcing his fists inward.
“What did happen?” Dick says, bright blue eyes blinking up at Jason through his dark hair. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Jason stares at Dick’s patiently waiting face. A lack of honesty had ended his marriage, and he’d promised himself he’d do better now. Jason blows out a stream of steam from his nose, stalking over to sit heavily in his office chair. “Long story short, we had a quirk marriage.” Jason starts as Dick perches on the side of his desk, wisely keeping his mouth shut. “We were too young. It was convenience, not love, even if we did care for each other at the start. The idea was that any children we’d have would get a mix of my fire quirk and her ice quirk. We never had any children though.”
“I’ve heard of that...” Dick muses quietly. “I never understood why anyone would want to do it, though.”
“My fire runs hot.” Jason says, looking away from Dick, and ignoring his snort of amusement. “The risk of overheating and burning yourself to death is high. I’m resistant to heat, not immune. An ice quirk would, in theory, counteract the overheating; and the flames would prevent frostbite.”
“Oh. I guess I can see how you wouldn’t want your children to burn or freeze to death.” Dick nods, his feathers vibrating gently.
“Not that that was the problem. I don’t think the fact we never managed to have children either was really the issue.” Jason shrugs, the problematic parts of his quirk are likely to die with him at this rate. “We just never loved each other enough. But we stayed together long past the point we were hurting each other because we were too proud to admit mistakes were made. The fights were... Well, I’m sure you read the tabloids.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should believe all the property damage claims.” Dick bites his lip for a second. “I mean, that all sucks, but anyone can see you’re trying to do better now.”
“And you still want to date me? Do you have a bird brain to match those pretty wings?” Jason says a little gruffly, stupidly embarrassed that his efforts have been noticed and appreciated.
“Rude!” Dick chirps, fighting off a grin. “I think I have a chance. You think my wings are pretty.”
“That’s no basis for a relationship.” Jason huffs, not denying it.
“Says who?” Dick pokes his finger into Jason’s shoulder.
“You’re a brat.” Jason rolls his eyes, grabbing Dick’s subtly-taloned hand.
“Oh, are we back to hotdog puns?” Dick crows in delight. “Because I’m a bratwurst who needs a good spanking, Daddy.”
“A spanking? No, I’m still throwing you outta the window, Boy.” Jason snorts, standing up to throw Dick over his shoulder; while the winged hero cackles at the pun, rendering himself helpless.
JULY
“Jason, you really are a DILF...” Dick mutters in between kisses. Jason would object to that, would point out that there’s not even fifteen years between them, but his mouth is far too busy pressing kisses down the long line of Dick’s neck. Dick’s a wonderful, gloriously warm weight in his lap, his thighs spread over Jason’s like he always meant to be right there.
Instead he grunts out an “Nnhn” and uses his teeth to nip lightly at the joint between neck and shoulder.
“God, your hands are so hot.” Dick moans, sounding breathless and happy. But it makes Jason pause, pull back and move his hands off the bare skin of Dick’s back. “Wait, no, don’t stop!”
“Let me know if they’re too painful.” Jason says, unable to resist Dick’s pleading despite himself. “I can’t always tell when I’m distracted. I don’t wanna melt your feathers accidentally.”
“Are you kidding? It’s like getting the best heat massage ever.” Dick shakes his head, his blue eyes even brighter with how blown his eyes are. “My wings have never felt so relaxed.” Dick flexes both is his wings ever so slightly, so Jason slides his hands back up to the fine-feathered bases.
“I’m serious, don’t let me burn you.” Jason says, rubbing his fingers into the overworked muscles at Dick’s shoulders.
“Okay, Daddy. Chill.” Dick snickers at his own joke, Jason rolls his eyes while he waits for Dick to stop. “I don’t want to be burned, but I wouldn’t object to having your handprints on my ass.”
“Brat.” Jason huffs, trying not to picture exactly that.
“Okay, see, how am I supposed to not call you daddy, when you call me a brat?” Dick grins, looking up at Jason through his eyelashes.
“Behave, and I wouldn’t have to.” Jason says, after a long pause, because well, Dick has a point. Whatever Dick’s about to say in reply is cut off into a yelp as Jason lifts him up, turning him to drop him on the bed. Dick’s chest makes contact with Jason’s bedspread, and his wings snap out in reflex.
The picture Dick makes is breathtaking; face down, wings out, and ass up. He truly looks like a fallen angel. He twists his head to look back at Jason, his eyes burning with lust. “Want to hotdog me, Daddy?”
“Maybe I should.” Jason nods, his heated hands resting on Dick’s ass. “You look kinda tight. You probably can’t take me without more prep that I’m willing to do today.”
“I can take it!” Dick says, affronted. He pushes up on his elbows to turn and stare at Jason’s crotch. Jason moves a hand from Dick’s plush cheeks to shove his dark gray sweats down his thighs. Dick swallows, and his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re even bigger than I thought you were.”
“Like I said...” Jason shrugs, motioning to his now-rapidly hardening cock.
“That’s not a hotdog, it’s a footlong!” Dick breathes out, his wings vibrating with excitement. They even flap once, and Jason has to lean back to avoid getting slapped in the face.
“Dick! Your wings!” Jason barks out, and Dick stills his wings, dropping back down onto his chest.
“Jason, please, I really want you to...” Dick moans, dragging one hand down the bed to shove between his thighs. Clearly the thought of Jason rubbing his cock between Dick’s cheeks is enough to make Dick need to touch himself.
Jason shuffles forward, until his legs touch the back of Dick’s thighs, causing him to shudder and exhale shakily. “Pass me the lube from the drawer. I’m not putting it inside, but I think we both want a little slick, right?”
Dick moans again, reaching out with a feather to pass Jason the lube. Seconds later and it’s drizzled perfectly between Dick’s cheeks and over his clenching hole. Dick’s breathing hard, but it’s noticeable that he’s not actually moving his hand on his own cock. Jason leans back, letting his cock slip between Dick’s now slick cheeks. Dick whines quietly, and Jason pushes watching as the tip of cock delves deeper, rising up through the groove and passing over Dick’s hot little hole, peeking out of the top. The pull back is perfect, Dick’s body doing it’s best to hold him in place.
“Oh god, Jason!” Dick gasps out, saying his name like a prayer. The next wonderful thrust in rocks Dick’s body, pushing his cock into his own hand. Jason picks up the pace with the next push, feeling Dick squeezing down on him with every bit of strength that he has in those muscles. It’s all tight, warm, slick pressure, combined with the sight of the crown of Jason’s cock disappearing and reappearing between Dick’s famous and well-beloved cheeks. It’d be enough to make a grown man cry, if only that grown man didn’t have a fire quirk that turns tears and sweat to steam before they can ever drip.
Dick’s wings have gone limp, splaying out over the bed; the vivid blue of them a shocking contrast to the plain white. In fact, the rest of Dick’s gone limp as well, except for the arm holding his cock. Dick’s mouth is hanging open, tiny little gasps and whimpers escaping as Jason plows into him, over and over. His face is lax with pleasure, little tremors shaking his body with each and every rock back and forth. The sweet friction and heat is beginning to get to Jason, and the desire to truly push inside Dick is rising it’s head. He slams between Dick’s cheeks rougher, faster, harder, until Dick makes a choked out groan, his entire body going taught under Jason’s. He goes truly limp then, his legs no longer holding him up; only Jason’s grip on his hips holds him in place.
The orgasmic expression on Dick’s face is what pushes Jason over the edge; the way he looks like he’s just been given the entire world. That he found his bliss on Jason’s cock does something to the primal part of Jason’s brain; he can feel himself losing control, his hands heating up. He’s going to give Dick those handprints he wanted after all. Hot white splashes out, landing on the small of Dick’s back.
“Dick?” Jason says, gently lifting a wing up and out of the way to lie down next to him.
“’M good, Daddy. Got the dogging of my life...” Dick mumbles, shifting closer to rest his face on Jason’s chest. “Still think we won’t be the ultimate powercouple?”
“Brat.” Jason rumbles, pulling Dick closer.