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Slade glares at the red light. How the hell is it this hard to get out of this god-forsaken city in middle of a regular evening? Why the hell are there so many people just driving around?
Slade flexes his hands on the steering wheel. He was supposed to have a nice and relaxing evening, good sex and food, after spending the day helping Jason bust up a trafficking ring, a nice and relaxing exercise in at itself, especially when fighting with Red Hood. Instead…
Slade grinds his teeth. This is what he gets for having a younger lover, goddammit, it never takes long for the immaturity to shine through. The kid definitely lasted longer than most, though, but it was inevitable.
Slade scoffs. He didn’t want to get into a discussion about who had done what and why, and he definitely didn’t want to get in the middle of the kid’s family drama. But lo and behold, that’s exactly where he ended up today, standing between the kid and his brother. He even tried to smooth things out, stayed behind with Grayson to exchange intel when the kid stormed off in a huff. And his reward? Getting yelled at for things he didn’t even do. Goddamn sibling competition…
The light changes and Slade moves forward. He just wants out of the city, away from the flying nuisances and stupid questions. Damn immature brats…
The kid acted as if Slade should’ve followed him around. He was on the city on the kid’s invitation, but that didn’t come with a fucking leash. He just wanted some fun: a good fight and good sex. Fucking Grayson for stirring up trouble on a good thing, showing up just to scold the kid on his methods and then flirting with Slade. Right in front of his brother. Not that he knew Slade and Jason were… Whatever they were. Still. Rude.
And then the kid acting as if Slade committed some great sin by staying behind, even though it was less than half an hour later that Slade climbed in through the window. Throwing a hissy-fit, like an insecure brat.
Fucking Grayson. It is not like Slade was going to sleep with him, heck, he didn’t even want to, he’ just.
Wait. What?
He always wants Grayson. Grayson is hot and flexible and pushy in all the right ways. Slade’s never turn down an invitation to roll around with him on a bed or on the rooftop for that matter. He should be dialing the man’s number right now, hell, he should already be somewhere with him. Yet…
Jesus Christ.
When’s the last time he slept with someone else? He has been busy… Charles in Montana after the last retrieval? No, that lead to nothing, because he needed to retu…go to Gotham right after. Even at his last extended stay at home in Kentucky, Jason came to bunk at his house as the kid was tracking down a trafficking ring in the area. It made perfect sense for Slade to give the kid keys and security codes…
What the fuck.
Slade stares straight ahead without seeing anything. His gaze flicks to the glove compartment. There, tucked in between the registration papers, are the keys to the kid’s apartment, exactly where Slade himself tossed them after storm- leaving. He has had them for a while. This isn't the first time he has come to Gotham in between his jobs to fuck the kid, lend a hand in any jobs he might be working on, eat his cooking (that was excellent) and… And to spend time with him.
Oh.
That… Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t get it out of his head. The image of himself and Jason sitting, no, cuddling on the couch bickering about news or both quietly reading. That’s… That’s something he’s looked forward to in the long hours of his last, surprisingly boring job.
An angry honk snaps Slade out of his reverie. Slade cranks the car to movement and whirls the steering wheel. A bunch of other horns join the cacophony, but Slade doesn't care as he cuts through the lines of traffic. He heads back. He has to get back.
How long has he…?
Slade swallows on a suddenly dry throat.
‘Do you even want this,' Jason said when they yelled at each other. Now Slade hears a different pronoun echo at the end of the sentence.
He has said it, right? Okay, fine, verbalizing things is not his way, but he’s shown it. Somewhere, sometime along the way. Right?
It was Jason who got the ball rolling. Slade was impressed at the direct boldness of the kid’s proposition that first time, almost a year ago. The way he looked at Slade after the end of their, admittedly flirt filled, team-up and just said: ‘Want to come to mine and fuck me?”. Slade went and then they’d just… Kept at it.
It was Jason who invited him here, like many times before. Jason, who suggested settling at Slade’s place for the Kentucky case. Jason, who always texted him.
Slade’s hands are suddenly sweaty. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like missing things. But it all has just been so… Easy. Easy in a way Slade is not used to. Everything else, everybody else, has always been a chase, a struggle, a battle requiring careful maneuvering and cunning moves that were countered by suggestive eyebrow wiggles, equally crafty schemes, and occasional stabs in the back. Adeline, Grayson, all the others. But not Jason. Jason just… Asked.
Slade wades through the traffic, his thoughts churning. He drives almost on autopilot, brain slotting past events in new places. A new picture is forming, one that has been there for a long time, but hurled safely just outside of Slade’s conscious thoughts. Because he didn’t look. Didn’t need to look.
Slade called it a mistake. To Jason’s face.
Finally, after an eternity, he gets back to Jason’s building and parks. He grabs the keys and gets out of the car, heading in. The old elevator clinks and rattles as it lifts him to the top floor. Slade wrenches the door open immediately when the elevator stops and hurries up to the right door. A hidden security hatch reveals itself under Slade’s touch and blinks green after the right code is supplied.
Slade stops, a hand hovering above the lock.
There’s a real possibility of Jason not being there. Not anymore. Slade left almost an hour ago, with no intention or indication of ever returning. And even if Jason is there, would he care that Slade came back?
Slade’s hands resolutely do not shake when he puts the key to the lock, opens the door, and steps in.
A noise cuts off and there’s a blur of movement in the living room. Slade moves too on instinct to dodge any projectiles and gets from the cramped doorway to the open space where there's more room to maneuver. In the second it takes for the door to swing closed, everything just… Stops.
Jason, having sprung from the couch, recognizes him before throwing the knife he snapped from its familiar hideyhole in the coffee table. A red throw, the kid’s favorite, falls from his shoulders to the floor.
Slade stares. Jason was--Jason is…
Slade has never seen Jason cry. Oh, Jason is an emotional man and not afraid to say and show what he's feeling at any given time. But clear, outright crying that left the eyes puffy and nose leaking… Never.
“Did you forget something?” Jason asks, going for nonchalant but missing by a mile and not just because his voice cracks. He blushes, ugly, red, blotchy pink that only emphasizes the wet redness of his eyes and nose. He ducks his head to avoid Slade’s eye and bursts into a nervous movement. He puts the knife back into its hiding place and hastily starts to gather up the things he has spread on the coffee table. Slade sees a teacup, a packet of tissues, and a bar of chocolate before they are bundled in the throw and gathered tightly against his chest.
“I’ll just…” Jason says but stops before his voice betrays him again. Slade sees him swallow, even though he keeps his face studiously tilted away.
“Yes,” Slade says belatedly. His own throat feels scratchy, but his voice, tempered by years and year of mercenary work, stays steady. “I forgot something.”
Jason doesn’t look up but unwinds his hand enough to make an all-compassing ‘get on with it’ gesture.
Slade stares. The silence stretches. Jason starts to move as if to go to the kitchen, eyes still downcast. The possibility of Jason leaving finally spurs Slade into action.
“I’m sorry,” he says. Just the truth in all of its simplicity.
Jason freezes mid-step, clutching the gathered bundle against his chest.
Slade doesn’t apologize. He’s never really seen much need for that: he does what he deems best in any given situation. No-one gets a do-over, so why would he apologize for something already done, especially when he’d do the same thing again with the same information? Apologies are nothing but a tool to appease people after the fact, and why would he care what people think of him? He might occasionally be wrong, but no amount of sorry would change it anyway.
And Jason does know that full well. He’s always known just who and what Slade is. And wanted him anyway.
Slade steps forward. Jason startles but doesn’t move. Slade catches the bundle Jason is hugging and gently jostles it for Jason to let go. As he does, Slade takes it and lays it on the coffee table. Then he turns back to Jason and takes his hands to his own. He lifts them up between them and gently pulls Jason closer to him.
“Look at me,” he says softly. Jason swallows. Slow as molasses his head lifts. His eyes wonder all over Slade’s face before finally setting to his eye.
“I’m sorry,” Slade repeats. It’s easier to say the second time. “I don’t want Grayson.” Jason sharply looks away and pulls his hands. Slade hangs on and doesn’t let go. “I don’t want to talk about Grayson, he’s not important,” he continues, ducking his head to regain eye contact, “I want you.” Jason stubbornly avoids his gaze and his mouth twists. “Not just like that.” Slade takes a breath. “I want you in any and all the ways you are, all the time.” Jason stills. Slade swallows at the look on his face, before continuing. “I’m sorry I haven’t told that to you. I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m sorry,” he adds, “that I forgot to show you how fucking much I adore you.”
Jason’s head snaps up, he staring at Slade, wide-eyed. Gently, Slade brings Jason’s hands up to his face and kisses the knuckles, one by one. Once Slade has kissed each knuckle on both hands, he, still with outmost care, brings then to his own shoulders. After a gentle tap to let Jason know to keep them there, he lets go and reaches for Jason's neck. He leans forward and kisses Jason’s brow, his cheek, his nose.
“Let me,” he whispers in Jason’s skin, “Let me show you.”
Jason lets out a stuttering breath that sounds loud in the quietness surrounding them. Slade keeps still and makes himself wait.
“I…” Jason sounds breathless and painfully unsure. After an agonizingly long pause, he nods.
Slade feels his heartbeat kick up. Normally, Slade would now grab Jason’s wrists and haul him backward on the couch or against the wall. Jason likes strength and power, manhandling and pain. Slade for his part loves to give it to him, to show off, to push, and to see the surrender.
But now, he wants something else. He needs something else. He thinks Jason needs that too.
He reaches around Jason, one hand sliding around his back, the other winding around his ass.
“Jump,” Slade whispers and hefts. Jason moves and his strong legs lock around Slade’s waist, arms around his neck as Jason buries his head to Slade’s shoulder. Slade holds him tight and turns around, making his way towards the bedroom. At the threshold, he stops to toe his shoes off. As Slade steps to the room, Jason’s hold loosens in anticipation of a throw, like they’ve done countless times before. Instead, Slade keeps walking, getting right next to the bed and stepping into it, shuffling in on his knees and keeping Jason in his lap. Jason makes a surprised noise, but his arms retighten around Slade’s neck, one hand sliding to Slade’s hair.
Slade nuzzles Jason’s jaw to encourage him to turn his head. Once he does, Slade captures his mouth. Slade licks in immediately when Jason’s lips part enough to allow it. Jason moans as Slade swirls his tongue in the way he knows Jason likes. He keeps the kiss deep but unhurried. Slade slides his hands down Jason’s back and dips them under the kid’s shirt, making the kid shiver. He spreads his left hand on the small of Jason's back, pulling them tight together as his other hand tracks up the powerful musculature of Jason’s back. He licks the underside of Jason’s tongue. Jason’s moan is muffled, but unmistakable and his hips roll against Slade. Slade encourages the movement with his hand, guiding them to a gentle rhythm. Jason’s hand flexes in Slade’s hair.
Slade smiles into the kiss and pulls back just enough to allow Jason to breathe. They part with a wet noise, and Jason pants. Slade slides his hand down and grasps the hem of Jason’s shirt.
“Lift up, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath even though Jason obeys at the same time, lifting his hands up. Slade rolls the shirt up quickly, and tosses it away, aiming for the chair. After all, Jason doesn’t like a mess in his space.
Jason’s arms drop back down and wind up around Slade’s neck and shoulders again. Slade tucks until they are chest to chest and lifts higher to his knees. He bends slightly to brace his free hand against the bed before tilting forward, slowly and gently lays Jason on the bed. Jason’s breath hitches at the display of pure strength and Slade kisses him again, kisses and kisses, until his breath again comes out as quick pants and quiet whimpers, and his hips stutter against Slade.
Slade swifts and pulls his arm from under Jason to lay him flat on the bed. He slides downward, Jason’s grip around his neck persists for a moment before loosening. Slade kisses Jason’s throat, the hollow between his collarbones, before pushing up. Jason’s legs fall open from around him and land on the bed on both sides of his hips. Slade smiles down at him and reaches for the bedside table. He pulls the drawer open and fishes out a familiar bottle of lube. Jason swallows, Adam’s apple popping, as Slade straightens up and scoots back on his knees, placing the bottle on the bed next to him.
Jason is looking up at him with wide eyes. The blush had spread from his cheeks down to his chest, his lips are red and wet and plump, and his breath comes in fast pants. His eyes are red but shining with burgeoning desire.
“You’re beautiful,” Slade says.
“Wha—No, I’m...” Jason huffs and almost laughs.
“Beautiful,” Slade repeats resolutely over Jason’s protests. He lays his hands on Jason’s hip bones that peak out of the waistband of his sweatpants. He rubs gently, and Jason squirms. Slade hooks his fingers around the waistband and starts pulling. Jason helps by first lifting his hips and then letting Slade lift and bend his legs, and just like that Jason is naked, sprawled on the bed, rock hard.
Slade slides his hand up Jason’s thighs, stroking the sensitive skin. The muscle constricts under his touch, strong and powerful.
“Your thighs are a marvel, kid,” he says and leans in to place a kiss on the inner thigh, “Strong, like you are.”
Jason’s legs flex and a shiver goes through him.
“I…” he starts, but Slade cuts him off.
“You are the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He punctuates the sentence with a long, sweeping stroke from Jason’s knees upwards to his groin. “Whatever life brings you, you survive. Nothing brings you down, you don’t let it.” He brings his hands to the seam of Jason’s groin and thighs and spreads his fingers to keep Jason’s hips in place. “You always do what you think is right, and then bear the consequences of your choices.” He dips forward and licks a thick stripe up the underside of Jason’s cock. Jason’s hips flex hard against his hands but have nowhere to go. A high keen falls from Jason’s lips.
“Slade…” he gasps, a needy whine entering his voice.
“That is fucking admirable,” Slade continues quietly. He makes eye contact and says: “I admire that about you.”
Jason’s cock twitches and spurts a little precum. Slade dips down again and licks the pearling liquid, swirling his tongue around Jason’s cockhead. Jason moans loudly, his hips again trying to arch in Slade’s touch.
Slade smiles and lets to. He reaches for the bottle and squeezes out a generous amount of lube on his fingers. He rubs his fingers together to warm it before reaching between Jason’s legs. Jason wiggles eagerly and his legs fall more open. At the first touch of Slade’s fingers to this rim, he gasps. Slade rubs the pucker gently, applying intermittent pressure and stroking the sensitive skin. Slowly, he pushes a whole digit in. Jason gives a whole-body shiver and a breathy exhale, almost a moan. Slade smiles. Even after all this time, Jason’s reaction to the first thing in him is always the same.
Slade twists his wrist and pulls the finger out, making sure to sweep Jason’s prostate on the way. Jason chokes and his thighs tremble. Slade swipes his thumb along Jason’s perineum, pushing the finger in at the same time. When he finds the spot, he pushes down and up at the same time, manipulating the prostate at both sides. Jason cries out, spine bowing, shaking like a leaf.
“That’s it,” Slade encourages, pulling out and shoving back in immediately, “That’s it, baby.” He rubs with both his forefinger and thumb and doesn’t let up.
Jason clenches around his finger, drawing tight, his back arching. He keens, a long desperate sound.
Slade pulls his finger out. Jason flails, hands scrambling. Slade reaches and grabs his wrists, pushing them on the bed on both sides of Jason's head and forcing Jason back down to the bed. Jason heaves for breath, hips arching, desperate for friction. Slade keeps his own hips out of reach and lets his weight push Jason’s upper body firmly on the bed. He mouths Jason’s jaw, gently sucking, licking, and kissing in alternating patterns. Slowly, Jason calms back down and settles on the bed, still breathing hard.
“Good boy,” Slade murmurs into his ear.
Jason shivers. “You bastard,” he pants, but the corners of his mouth are pulling up.
Slade smiles and gently nips Jason’s jaw, drawing out a gasp. “Thought you would like to come on my cock,” he suggests and Jason’s hands flex in his grip.
“You’re wearing too many clothes for that,” Jason says breathily.
Slade laughs, but obediently lets go and slides off the bed. He divests himself of clothes quickly, with brutal efficiency without making it a show. Even in his hurry, he takes care to lay them on the chair. He turns back to the bed. Jason is looking at him, still panting. Heat and interest are clear in Jason’s gaze as it moves down from Slade’s chest to his crotch. Slade grins. Gratifying, as always.
Jason looks back up and smiles a little. “You want me to...?” he asks and makes a turning motion with his hand.
“No. I want to see you,” Slade says and climbs back to the bed, settling between Jason’s legs. Jason blinks, and looks away, almost demurely. Slade is sure that if Jason already wasn’t blushed all over, his face would now be getting gloriously pink.
Slade reaches for the lube again and quickly slicks up his cock. He positions his cock head right onto Jason’s hole and watches the rim flutter in anticipation. Jason opens his legs wider and positions his hands to Slade’s shoulders, fingers flexing.
“Ready?” Slade asks pushing forward a bit, but not in, not yet.
Jason’s fingers tighten on his shoulders, trying to pull him to movement.
“Just get in me,” Jason grumbles, the order ending up in a moan as Slade circles the rim with his cockhead. Slade stares hungrily; watching his own precum pearl on Jason’s pucker, mixing with the glistening lube, satisfies a need deep within his chest.
“Slade…” Jason whines.
“You want to come on my cock?” Slade asks. “Without even a touch on your own? I know you can.” He looks Jason in the eyes again. The desire staring back at him is clear as day. “Darling, you’re always beautiful, but when you writhe on my cock? You’re exquisite.”
Jason’s breath hitches and he bits his lip.
Slade doesn’t wait for an answer. He holds his cock in position and pushes forward. Jason’s rim stretches around the head, under relentless pressure. For a long, drawn-out moment the muscles hold, before giving all at once and letting Slade’s cock pop in. Air punches out of Jason in a long, warbled moan and he tosses his head back. Slade has to close his eyes as the scorching, wet heat of Jason surrounds his cock. He waits just long enough for Jason to take a breath, before starting to push forward again, making it one long, continuous slide, until he bottoms out, balls snug against Jason’s ass. Jason is tight around him, tight and hot and perfect, surrounding him, curling around him.
Slade looks down at Jason’s face. His mouth is gaping open, eyes fixed on the ceiling, small gasps spilling from his lips.
“You are so gorgeous,” Slade says, and Jason clenches around him. Slade takes hold of Jason’s thighs and guides his legs to wrap around his own hips, ankles locking behind him. He leans forward and drops to his elbows to get as close to Jason as possible without crushing him. Jason shivers underneath him and Slade mouths his throat close to the pulse point, under his jaw. Jason gasps.
“Move,” Jason whispers.
“As you wish,” Slade says. Jason shivers again and his hold on Slade’s shoulders tightens.
Slade starts moving. He pulls out almost to the tip and then pushes back in, with a slow inexorable slide that has all the power of his hips behind it. When he bottoms out, his balls touching Jason’s ass, Jason hips tremble and his back arches. A tiny whimper escapes his mouth, morphing into a long moan as Slade grinds.
Slade moves his hips back, enjoying the drag. He reangles his hips for the next instroke and is rewarded by a loud gasp as he hits Jason’s prostate head-on.
“Feel good, sweetheart?” he asks. Jason’s dick twitches hard between them at the endearment. Slade smiles against Jason’s throat and moves to his ear. He gently nips at the earlobe before whispering: “You look so good like this. Gorgeous. Beautiful. You take my cock so well.” Jason’s mouth moves soundlessly, helplessly, as Slade makes sure to grind again, as deep as he can be.
Slade pulls out again and sets up a steady rhythm, slow, but deep and powerful, each thrust ending up in a heavy grind that has Jason gasping, letting out tiny ‘ah, ah’s, hands convulsing on Slade’s shoulders.
Then Slade starts to talk again.
“You deserve to feel good,” he tells Jason in a low whisper, “You deserve someone to make you feel good, to take care of you. You don’t need it,”, he adds, “God knows you don’t need anyone, ‘cause you’re a survivor. You’d be the last man standing in any scenario. But you deserve it.” A tremble runs through Jason’s whole body, and he clenches around Slade’s cock, almost making Slade lose the rhythm of his thrusts.
“And I’m lucky you let me do that,” Slade says, and undulates his hips, staying buried deep in Jason for a moment longer, driving out a warbled moan. ”I’m lucky you invited me in that day. That you let me stay.” He takes a deep breath to keep his own arousal in check. ”That you let me come back.”
“You are one of the best things that’d ever happened to me.” He kisses Jason’s jaw, his pulse point, worries the sensitive spot right under his ear. Jason trembles and whines. He gets his mouth right next to Jason’s ear and whispers: “You are not a mistake.”
“Slade…”
Jason’s voice cracks. Slade pulls back enough to see his face. Tears are spilling out of Jason's closed eyes leaving tracks on his cheeks. Slade stops moving and leans in to gently kiss Jason’s cheeks, tasting the saltwater.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks between kisses. Jason is still hard between them, shivering and breathing heavily. Jason doesn’t open his eyes, but he shakes his head.
“Please,” he whispers, voice a wavering wreck, “don’t stop.”
Slade kisses him. “I won’t, sweetheart,” he says, “Whatever you want.”
He starts moving again. Jason shudders. Slade licks the salt water of the tears on his cheeks. Jason turns his face away, but Slade lifts a hand to caress his wet cheek.
“Don’t,” Slade says, “Don’t hide from me. Let me see you.”
Jason almost hiccups. Still, he turns his head back and lets Slade kiss him.
“Good boy,” Slade says and Jason sucks in a hard breath, his eyes flying open. Slade smiles at him and kisses him once more. He strokes Jason’s cheek before moving his hand downwards. He strokes Jason’s side, caresses his quivering abs, and finally dips between their bodies to where they are joined.
He reaches downward, teasing the stretched rim of Jason’s hole. Jason’s breath catches before rushing out as a long undulating whine. His neck arches back, and Slade uses the opportunity to kiss the underside of his jaw.
“I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart,” he promises.
On the next instroke, Slade slides the finger in. Jason’s rim flutters and his legs flex around Slade’s hips, pressing like a vice.
“Slade..!” he yelps as Slade pushes in to the third knuckle, riding the thrust. As Slade bottoms out, he grinds his hips and crooks his finger, exactly on Jason’s prostate. Jason’s spine pulls taunt and he wails, long and high. Slade doesn’t wait for him to come down, instead pulling outwards again. He pulls his finger out to the first knuckle and uses the opportunity to stroke Jason’s rim with his middle finger. Jason whines and writhes, hips desperately spasming.
“Want another?” Slade purrs in Jason’s ear. Jason shivers and frantically nods.
Despite the permission, Slade takes his time, rubbing Jason’s rim, gently stretching and teasing the taunt skin. He straightens up a little to better see Jason’s face. The kid is red all over, his mouth hangs lax, lips red and swollen. A couple of tears still linger on his cheeks and eyelashes. When he looks at Slade, his eyes are all pupils and burning with desire. Slade’s cock twitches, familiar pressure building in his gut.
“So beautiful for me, sweetheart,” he says. Jason’s hands flex on his back. Maintaining eye contact, Slade pushes in, with both fingers and cock. Jason goes rigid all over, his face scrunching up. Still sliding in, even though Jason is now tight as a vice, Slade pushes upwards with his fingers, rubbing that perfect spot inside Jason. At the same time, still looking Jason in the eyes, he says:
“I love you.”
Jason’s eyes go wide, and a gasp explodes out of his mouth. Then he’s coming, and the gasp morphs into a long, keening wail as his back arches and head tilts back. His ass contracts around Slade’s cock, again and again, and Slade switches to short, hard pistons. He is close, so close, but first, he wants to see…
Jason’s cum keeps shooting between their bodies so hard that some of it land on his jaw, his cock twitching, legs spasming around Slade. Slade fucks into him through it all, until finally, Jason goes lax against the bed, like a puppet with all the strings cut. He’s legs fall open, his chest heaves. A sheen of sweat glistens on his reddened skin, curled wisps of hair are plastered to his forehead. Slade feels him open up a little more, letting Slade even more deeply inside him. His eyelids troop as a look of utter bliss and contentment settles on his face. He is a picture of debauchery and so utterly, indescribably stunning.
Slade jams in one final time and lets himself go. A groan pulls out of him as he goes taunt and empties inside Jason’s now relaxed, but still so tight, so snug, so perfect, ass.
He half collapses against Jason, resting his forehead on Jason’s chest. For a long moment, there is only the sound of their hard, short breaths. Finally, Slade places a gentle kiss on Jason’s clavicle, before carefully easing out of him. Jason twitches as Slade’s cock pops out of him but doesn’t open his eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” Slade says, before going to the bathroom to grab and wet a couple of washcloths. Jason hasn’t moved when he comes back, still sprawled open on the bed, eyes closed. Slade runs the cloth over Jason’s stomach and chest before moving between his legs. Jason stirs as Slade gently wipes his cock clean but doesn’t talk. Slade’s semen is slowly dripping out of Jason’s puffy hole. Even a soft touch of Slade’s finger on the rim makes Jason flinch.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Slade pacifies. Jason shivers. “Let me take care of you.“ Jason settles back down.
Slade gently circles the rim, satisfied to see that even though it is a bit swollen and red, there is no blood or tears. When he pushes a finger in, Jason makes a sound like the air was punched out of him. Slade waits a moment for him to settle before stretching the rim gently to scoop the semen out. Jason gasps at the sweep of the finger, and his legs move restlessly, but he stays relaxed and lets Slade clean him up. Finally, Slade is satisfied and slides his finger out. He wipes the area once more before scooping up the washcloths and bringing them back to the bathroom. He washes his hands and returns to the bedroom.
Jason still hasn’t moved, but now his eyes are open and fixed to Slade. He looks… Young. Eyes enormous, curls going everywhere, an uncertain twist to his mouth. He isn’t crying, but his eyes are overly bright, and the tear tracks are still visible on his cheeks. For a long moment, Slade stays frozen on a threshold, before making himself move. He hurries to the bed and reaches for Jason. Jason wiggles closer and lets Slade pull him in.
Slade reaches back for the blankets before turning to his back and pulling Jason to his chest. He caresses Jason’s hair and kisses his brow. Jason lets out a long sigh and relaxed against him. Slade lets them lapse into a content silence, running his fingers through Jason’s curls. But after a moment, he has to break it.
“You don’t believe me,” he says softly. Jason startles and looks up to his eye.
“I…” His voice is raw, almost apologetic.
“Shh,” Slade hushes. He leans in to kiss Jason on the mouth. He keeps it gentle, soft, and reassuring, just like before but without the heat. He wants nothing more than to replace those feelings with hope and surety, but it’s not something that happens all at once. It is fine. He’s a patient man when there’s something worthwhile to work on.
“It’s okay.” He gathers Jason in his arms, tangling their feet together, touching from head to toe. “I will show you again.”