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It was almost late enough that Damian could leave without drawing notice. Tonight’s affair was unfortunately dry as, although the principle charity for the event was abolitionist, they were also Prohibitionists and no one had been able to convince Bruce to support a different anti-slavery organization. So he had been unable to obtain even the mildest of relief from the drudgery of insipid conversation. He was currently standing against the wall and scowling at anyone who approached. He done enough pretending to be personable that he could indulge his misanthropic reputation.
If they, they being his family, wanted him to participate more then they should let him argue with Drake. That scion of a lesser family might be a soft-hearted fool but he could at least participate in a battle of wits. Otherwise, only the most indomitable dowagers and widows felt secure enough to properly respond to Damian’s sallies. The rest were too pre-occupied with currying his favour to actually gain any. His family would respond except Grayson never took him seriously, Todd never attended, Cassandra did not play games, and Father was too busy pretending to be an imbecile. So once the old ladies vanished, his only entertainment was Drake.
So he held up a wall and glared at anyone who approached. The ballroom at Wayne Manor was at least free of the gaudy excesses of new and insecure wealth. It was a shame so many of the guests eschewed taste and decorum in their dress for the gaudy and fashionable dyes and patterns made possible by the new chemistry. On the balance, it was still pleasant to watch the dancers swirl beneath the chandeliers.
A chiming clock signalled the formal end of the event, which meant the floor could be honourably yielded to the serious partiers. How they would fare with only the booze they brought with them was none of Damian’s concern. He looked around for Drake and caught the man’s gaze where he was holding court for the obnoxiously progressive faction of Gotham high society. Damian was not hypocritical enough to oppose the movement to reform social mores. He also fully endorsed labour reform in order to destroy rivals of the Wayne family—not to mention abolition without compensation out of personal abhorrence for slavery and the number of truly vile people it would immiserate. However, the progressive push for universal suffrage was a demand that fools be allowed to choose fools for leaders. Did no one read the classics any more? Mob rule of Athens led to their downfall against Sparta and the populists of Rome destroyed the Republic. Which was to say that no one expected Damian to enjoy the company of Drake’s friends.
He crooked an eyebrow when he saw he’d gained a fraction of Drake’s attention. A hint of a nod was sufficient for Damian to start making his way out. He said his goodbyes to family, dodging Father’s show of pseudo-drunken affection for his son and begging off when Grayson invited him for some post-Gala drinks. His prick had an appointment with Drake’s mouth and he did not intend to miss it.
While Damian had strong opinions about inviting the worst of Gotham’s elite into their home, it did make post-event assignations much easier. Drake knew where Damian’s suite was and Pennyworth had been told that Drake was permitted to enter. The man had already been granted the freedom of the house based on his familiarity with Grayson but naturally that didn’t extend to Damian’s chamber. The butler and the staff undoubtedly knew why Damian often entertained Drake in private but that was scarcely the most scandalous thing they had kept private for the Waynes.
He arrived to an empty parlour, Drake must still be making his courtesies. Damian crossed the thick emerald carpet, kicking off his shoes to enjoy the plushness on stocking feet. Damian, smirking at the minuscule victory of being first, sprawled on the daybed that dominated the room. It was a truly sumptuous piece of furniture. It was large enough for three people to recline on. The leather was sinfully comfortable—and easy to clean. The legs were thick and finely carved with satyrs. The room also had a pair of overstuffed chairs by the cold fireplace making a nod to the room’s supposed purpose.
He could have literally rub it in that he’d arrived first by playing with his prick but if Drake failed to reciprocate immediately, Damian would be left in an awkward state. Better to exercise restrain and to start this tryst on equal footing. Drake got contrary if he thought Damian was putting himself above him.
It was a shame Damian had not found a way to tell Drake that he’d rather be beneath him. The shame he felt over desiring the passive role only made it more enticing. Having a prick up his arse was delightfully intense and getting sucked or sucking always seemed like a poor second. He’d fallen into this habit with Drake and feared changing it would require actual conversation. It was better to shove pricks in mouths than to say the wrong thing.
Drake entered the room without announcing himself. He probably wanted to counter the disadvantage of arriving second by acting as if this were his home. A concept Damian had to force himself not to find delightful as he would have to make conversation with Drake and put up with his terrible influence over Grayson. Even if Drake did look splendid in a formal suit and would be conveniently available whenever Damian wanted a mouth on his prick.
“Are we going to get on with it?” Drake asked.
“I was just waiting for you,” Damian said and sat up to take off his jacket.
“Some of us actually like being polite.” Drake began pulling off his jacket.
“I rendered what courtesies were due,” Damian snapped. “I saw no reason to linger.”
“You’re that eager to choke on my prick?”
Damian sneered. “I’m that eager to get my prick in your mouth.”
“Whatever helps you finish.”
Jackets discarded, they started on their waistcoats. With Jon or any of the other men he’d been with, Damian would be over there helping him undress. There’d be kisses and caresses as he appreciated the man who he was sharing such intimacies with. That was only for men he actually liked. Drake was self-righteous prig who despised Damian simply for his preference for the natural political order. Even if Damian wanted to kiss Drake—he did not—Drake clearly had no interest in such sentimental gestures.
With the waistcoats dispensed with, braces and breeches followed quickly. Stockings and cuffs took more effort and Damian’s dexterity was impeded by his frequent glances over at Drake. It was foolish. In a moment, Drake would be naked and Damian could look all he liked. It was just that Drake’s thighs disappearing under his shirt tails was strangely arousing. He wanted to watch Drake’s body being revealed. Too bad that would mean Drake was stripping for Damian not just as a necessary step in the process. This was about getting off, not romance or even tenderness.
“Enjoying the show?” Drake said with saccharine venom.
Damian flushed. “Hardly,” he spat. “Just making sure you were keeping up.”
It was a weak return and Damian’s blushed deepened. Especially when Drake pulled his shirt off and stood naked while Damian was still fighting with a cuff. At least he was permitted to stare at Drake’s erect prick. Familiarity couldn’t keep it from being beautiful. Thick and proud, Drake’s arrogance was merited on this subject. Keeping his gaze fixed so low let Damian ignore any expression Drake might be sporting while Damian finished disrobing.
His shirt had barely hit the floor before Drake was pushing him back onto the daybed. Damian held his teeth against a gasp. He let himself fall back while Drake trailed his hands down his chest. His squeezed his eyes shut. Drake was just moving his hands to where he wanted them. He did not appreciate Damian’s body. Hands and mouth found Damian’s prick together. He arched his back. His own hands found their way to Drake’s hair.
It was so good. Drake could take his whole prick in one swallow. Damian rolled his hips to thrust in and out of the willing mouth. It would be so easy to take his pleasure like this. If Drake was not satisfied with it, that was hardly Damian’s problem. Except this was only half the point of the rendezvous.
“Come on,” Damian drawled. “Did you never learn to share?”
“You’re such a sodomite,” Drake said, almost sounding fond after regrettably letting Damian slip out of his mouth.
Damian considered objecting but Drake was climbing over him and positioning his crotch over Damian’s face. Damian opened his mouth and let Drake feed him his prick. His lips were stretched in the best way. He relaxed his jaw and cradled Drake’s shaft with his tongue. He could not quite manage all of Drake so he wrapped a hand around the base to keep himself from choking.
Drake sighed and then warmth and wetness returned to Damian’s prick. He hummed with pleasure. Any tears in his eyes might be blamed on the prick in his mouth. He might love Jon but there was something pure about these moments with Drake. They simply enjoyed sucking cock. He did not know how Drake felt about it but Damian was purely happy. When being with Jon had become routine, he did not think he could find this kind of joy again. Even as he marvelled at the kindness of a world that let him have this, he kept sucking on Drake. They thrust into each other’s mouths and fondled each other’s balls. As their pleasure rose, they thrust harder. Neither pulled off to bite at a thigh or to whisper endearments. They surrendered to the prick in their mouth with the same bliss that they fucked the mouth their prick was in.
Damian spilled first, as usual. He thrust into Drake’s throat and grabbed Drake’s buttocks to force his prick into Damian’s throat. He wanted more. He wanted as much of Drake as he could get. Ecstasy shattered his reserve as Drake sucked and swallowed. He kept doing it until Damian became over sensitive and pulled away.
Free of the distraction of Damian’s prick, Drake set out to finish as quickly as possible. It was all Damian could do to keep his teeth clear of Drake’s shaft. His jaw hurt. His lips were sore. He wanted to stay spent and face fucked for ever. Too soon, Drake rammed his prick as deep as it would go, cutting off Damian’s air as he spilled down Damian’s throat. He cursed mindlessly and pulled off with a groan.
They lay next to each other, head to foot. Damian found the energy to lift his head to admire the sprawl of Drake’s naked body, shiny with sweat. Heavy in the thighs, soft through the torso, and with muscled arms, Drake’s form was a delight. The spent cock was icing on the cake. Damian’s gaze snapped up to Drake’s face when the other man opened his mouth to say something. Rather than hear it, Damian pushed him off the day bed.
“Fuck you,” Drake said without heat. One or the other of them often found themselves push off of whatever flat surface they had availed themselves of.
“Only if you ask nicely,” Damian lied.
Had not he just been thinking that he would like Drake to fuck him? Still, the joking brush off was the closest he could get to actually asking. It was not that he thought Drake would use such a request against him, precisely. It was that he was not brave enough to make the first move in changing their arrangement.
“May I please fuck you, lord Wayne?” Drake said in a scintillatingly correct tone.
“What, now?” Damian blamed a loss of intellectual capacity due to his recent orgasm for the vacuity of his response.
“In the morning, if it would please you,” Drake said.
Damian narrowed his eyes. That had sounded both genuine and like a suggestion that Drake spend the night. Neither of them had a place in the arrangement they’d developed.
“Why?” he asked instead of answering.
Drake shrugged. “You aren’t bad company after you’ve had my cock in your mouth. I figure it’s worth seeing if you’re tolerable at breakfast after you’ve been fucked.”
Damian was afraid that he was. Jon had commented that he was easier to get along with after immediately after they had relations. He had not noticed the change in his demeanour Drake alleged but it was possible.
“I will allow your experiment to proceed,” Damian said after a moment to reflect. He stood and stretched.
“Be still my heart.” Drake clutched his hand to his chest.
“If you want romantic confessions, you should be sleeping with Jon.”
“It would feel weird to sleep with Kon’s little brother.”
Something in the way he said ‘Kon’ confirmed a long held suspicion of Damian’s. “Leviticus is quite silent on the matter of the nakedness of your lover’s brother.” He turned towards his bedroom.
“I’m more concerned about ‘little’ than brother.”
“He’s not that much younger than I am,” Damian pointed out, holding the door to his bedroom open for Drake.
“Which makes him that much younger than me,” Drake said, stepping into Damian’s bedroom and staring around unashamedly. “You would not believe the lectures I got from your brothers.”
Damian froze. He knew that his trysts with Drake were hardly secret from his family. He had not thought they would have been so crass as to approach Drake about it. It was fine. They had not frightened Drake off.
“I did not receive any lectures for Kon.” He forced himself to move and strode past Drake to climb into bed, sliding over to leave room for Drake.
“That’s because he’s hoping I’ll share.” Drake slid in after him and had the audacity to wrap an arm around Damian. He would have protested but the suggestion of adding another man to his stable made him obliging. He pressed back into Drake’s warmth with a sigh.
“I’m sure I could find time to call upon you and Kon,” he said slyly. “It would not cause comment if Kon invited his brother and a companion over for tea.”
Drake cock became notably firmer against Damian’s backside. “Were you thinking simultaneous or sequentially?”
“You may join whenever you wish,” Damian said. “I am not quite so depraved to fuck both brothers at the same time.”
“That avoids the little brother problem.”
“Just because Jon is smaller than you, it does not make him little.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Drake sighed and shifted in bed. “We can leave the future to the future. I do need to sleep. Good night, Damian.”
“Good night,” Damian stopped to consider it and decided the distance of formality was a lost cause, “Timothy.”