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Patrol ended hours ago, and yet Bruce is still writing up reports. Jason's brains are about to melt out of his head just in sheer self defence, trying to escape how utterly, completely, thoroughly bored he is.
Sure, Bruce might be handsome as all hell with that faint frown line between his eyebrows, his face so serious and intent on his work (it's embarrassingly close to the face he makes as he focuses on wrecking Jason's shit) but still. It's been forever. Jason wants to go to bed. He's all horny from patrol but he can feel tiredness creeping up on him. He unsubtly smothers a yawn and decides to give it another five minutes before he does something drastic.
Five minutes later and the only thing Bruce has moved is his hands across the keyboard. Someone has to do something, and Jason’s the only person here. Once again, it’s all up to him. He sighs and hefts himself up so that he can sit on the edge of the stupidly oversized desk that supports the Batcomputer. The desk is tall enough that it hits Jason at perfect hip height (he should know, he's been bent over it enough times) so he has to jump just the slightest amount to get his ass properly on it. The move never fails to make Jason feel like an idiot baby, but at least it draws Bruce's attention. His hands finally slow and he turns to face Jason, raises an eyebrow in his direction.
Jason gives Bruce his best smile. "Come on, B, don't you think you've done enough for one night?"
Bruce grunts.
Jason shifts himself across the desk until his butt butts up against Bruce's closest hand. "Come on," he cajoles, "I'm tired, I want to go to bed, don't you?" He wraps his arms around Bruce's neck, letting his back curve prettily and pouts, looking at Bruce through his eyelashes.
Bruce's hands come up to support Jason's sides, and Jason suppresses a triumphant grin. Got him. "I suppose it is getting quite late," Bruce responds. His thumbs sweep back and forth on Jason's ribs, the thin fabric of the tank top Jason changed into after his shower (Bruce is still in the Batman outfit, only his cowl pulled back) bunches up and pulls in response to Bruce's actions.
Jason leans forward even more, knowing that Bruce will keep him from falling off the desk. He rubs his cheek against Bruce's bicep. It's not the most comfortable thing to do–it’s not like the Batsuit is designed to be comfortable, after all–but it’s all about the look. He knows that if he bends like this, the neckline of his top will gape enough that Bruce can spot a nipple if he chooses to look.
(Bruce's eyes dart down for a split second before they return to Jason's face. Jason tucks his face against Bruce's arm because there’s no suppressing the grin that spreads across his face. Got him.)
"Yeah, I wanna go to bed already," Jason says, with one last cheek rub against Bruce's arm before he draws away. He pushes back just far enough to scoot outside of Bruce’s easy grabbing range. Bruce's hands tighten, just for a moment, before they relax and let him go. Jason cocks his head to the side and finally allows himself to grin at Bruce.
“Lets have a shower and then go to bed, OK B?" he chirps. He brings his leg up and slides it between Bruce's, rocks his foot against Bruce's crotch. He doesn't actually feel anything fun, the Batsuit has a built-in cup for obvious reasons, but that’s not the point. The point is how it looks.
Bruce grabs his ankle but doesn't push him away. He presses Jason's foot firmer against his crotch. Jason smirks, makes no effort to hide his expression from Bruce.
Bruce grunts and then, clear reluctance in his movements, tucks Jason's leg to the side so that he's spread around Bruce's hips. He stands up and grabs Jason by the ass, hauls him close. Jason snorts out a laugh and wraps his arms around Bruce's neck, rocks his hips against Bruce’s front.
Bruce walks noticeably faster than his usual gait over to the bathroom area. Jason muffles a giggle against Bruce's neck, and takes shameless advantage of the opportunity to grind against the Batsuit. Bruce's hands flex on Jason's ass, bullying their way under the very short hem of his shorts so they can touch skin. Jason doesn't bother biting back a moan at the feeling. His pussy clenches between his thighs. If he weren't so familiar with the feeling, it would probably hurt to feel the unforgiving touch of the Batsuit in some pretty sensitive areas.
But since that's a feeling that he is very familiar with.....
Bruce puts him down on the bench in the bathroom and Jason pouts. He knows that Bruce can hold him and strip out of the Batsuit at the same time. He does not appreciate being put aside, especially since the bench is fucking freezing, cold nigh instantly bleeding through his shorts. His pussy does not appreciate it.
"You need to be cleaned too," Bruce explains as he unlatches his gauntlet.
Jason showered when he stripped out of the Robin uniform (you know, when they came back from patrol, several hours ago at this point) but he's not one to pass up getting wet with Bruce. It's the work of seconds to pull his tank top over his head and wriggle out of his shorts, he doesn’t even have any underwear to kick to the side. Why would he have put any on, when he knows Alfred went to bed when they arrived back? It’s just him and Bruce left awake in the whole house. He flings his clothes towards the laundry hamper and walks over to showers. He can basically feel Bruce’s eyes on his bare ass (perv), and it takes more self control than he’s proud of to not show off.
Soon.
One of the many good things about living with Bruce Wayne is that the water doesn't come out of the tap cold unless you want it to. Jason starts with the hot water, like always, and in moments he's got his chosen showerhead spitting out water that's the perfect temperature of just too hot. He doesn't need to soap up, but that doesn't mean that he doesn’t. Bruce is watching, after all, and he always fucks harder if he's been teased a bit.
Jason makes a show of it, sighing in delight as the water cascades over his body, bending at the waist so he can scrub down his ankles. It's not entirely just to tease Bruce, Jason loves hot showers, and the water pressure is always perfect here, whether it's in the Manor proper or in the Cave. He actually gets lost in the whole production of showering for a moment, taking the time for a more thorough clean that he usually bothers with after patrol.
Bruce's hands landing on his hips and hauling him back against Bruce's sizeable, half-hard cock remind him of what he came here to do.
He arches back into the touch, showing off the lines of muscle in his back. "Hey, B," he purrs, voice intentionally breathy.
Bruce's hands tighten. "Minx," he scolds.
Jason shoots him a grin over his shoulder. "Yeah, you like it like that though."
Bruce tosses him over his shoulder without another word. Jason cackles, and squirms in Bruce's grip just to feel his hands flex around him. Bruce spanks him, light and easy, and turns off the water. The bathroom is filled with steam, so he doesn’t immediately get cold, but when Bruce walks out into the Cave without bothering to dry either of them, the chill makes Jason break out in goosebumps.
"Bruce," he whines.
"I know, I know." Bruce runs a hand over his thigh, and Jason's pretty sure he means it as a soothing gesture, but his hand drifts up just that little bit too high, and Jason's cunt clenches down on nothing. He always gets so crazy whenever Bruce lays hands on his bare skin, like he can't think of anything else but moremoremore. Jason isn't sure if it's a Pavlovian reaction or just something that comes naturally with being touched by Bruce Wayne.
Ehh, little column a, little column b. In the end, does it even matter?
He admires the flex of Bruce's ass as Bruce strides towards the elevator. There's not much there, not when Bruce's body fat percentage is so low, but the muscle is thick enough that Jason loves to dig his fingers into it when he's blowing Bruce, or if Bruce fucks him in a position where he can reach. Bruce bought him just the nicest strap for his most recent birthday and that gave Jason a whole new appreciation for Bruce's ass.
He has to bring that up again, Bruce's cock in Jason's cunt is just such a quicker and easier way to have sex that if they're going to go all the way and not just lazily/sleepily jerk each other off after patrol, they usually default to it. Anal just takes so much prep, whether it's Jason or Bruce bottoming, it makes it hard to go for it when Jason's cunt is right there and it basically slicks on demand.
Hmm. Now that he thinks about it…
"Bruce, am I a slut?" Jason asks as Bruce presses the button combo that will take them up into the Manor and disengages the security features that can turn the elevator into an inescapable trap. (Jason should know, Bruce drilled the right combo into his head by repeatedly letting him lock himself in, and then not letting him out until Jason had come messily enough for the cameras. Jason's not a slow learner, but sometimes he likes teasing Bruce. It's as much punishment for him as it is for Jason, for him to have to watch and listen through the security cameras as Jason treats himself just right.)
Bruce hums in thought, and pets over Jason again. "No, you're just pleasure seeking. It's a perfectly normal way to be, we're hardwired as a species to seek out that which brings us joy and avoid that which pains us. You simply must monitor it so that it doesn't become detrimental."
"Always take things so seriously," Jason mutters against his ass, not intending Bruce to overhear him but also not not intending for Bruce to overhear.
Bruce chuckles and the doors open, Bruce walks out into one of the many spare bedrooms. From the Manor side, the doors look like a regular built-in wardrobe, there's no way to know that it is in fact an elevator. Hell, if you just pull the doors open, it's full of clothes in garment bags. It is a wardrobe. You need to press the moulding in a specific pattern using specific timing for that to slide away and for the elevator platform to reveal itself. There's multiple ways to get from the Manor to the Cave and back again, and not all of them require climbing like, a billion stairs. Sometimes Bruce will put Jason on his cock and then take the stairs, teasing them both as Jason bounces on his cock in time to his steps. Jason's kind of relieved that Bruce didn't go that route tonight, if he's going to be slung over Bruce's shoulder like a successful hunter's trophy, he would prefer Bruce chose the method to get them to his bedroom that won't end up with Jason having new bruises on his abdomen and all the air in his lungs gone.
There's a sexy way to gasp for air and there's a really, really unattractive way to do it. Jason should know, he's seen people try to get air when Ivy's pollen is so thick it activates the pollen allergies of everyone within a five mile radius of Gotham.
They cross down the corridor, Bruce not bothering to hide either of their nudity. Jason doesn't usually like to be naked in the public spaces of the Manor (unless Bruce is being particularly aggravating and/or inviting), but well, in situations like this...
The Wayne Manor master bedroom is big enough that it has multiple areas. Jason's very familiar with the layout by now, he and Bruce have fucked in just about every square inch of the room, and the ensuite, and the walk-in wardrobe... The room is Jason's favourite place to have sex; there's so much Bruce here, he feels surrounded, cradled, encompassed in the best possible way. The room smells like Bruce, like it's absorbed bits of him over the years. But it's not just Bruce here, either, there's bits of Jason visible for someone who knows how to look: books that Bruce wouldn't read on one of the nightstands, two used toothbrushes on the bathroom counter, two phone chargers. It sends pleasant shivers down Jason's spine whenever he thinks about it.
Would this be what their bedroom would look like, if they were...
Bruce places Jason down in the middle of the bed, gently enough that Jason just sinks straight into the blankets. Jason bites his bottom lip to hide a smile and spreads his legs just enough to flash Bruce a glimpse of his pussy.
Bruce's eyes dart down and his hand clamps around Jason's ankle, forces him to spread wider, until Jason can feel the strain in his thigh and the air against his pussy.
"Like what you see?" Jason asks, breathy in a way that's embarrassingly genuine. He can feel his ears begin to heat up and can only hope that it's hidden by his hair.
"Always," Bruce says. Jason can't keep looking at him, puts his hands over his face like he can physically force the blush back if he just tries hard enough.
"Sap," he rasps, not moving his hands.
Bruce picks up an ankle and drops a revenant kiss on his ankle. "For you," Bruce murmurs. Jason feels it more than he hears it, in the shapes Bruce's mouth makes as it moves against his skin.
A wave of hyperawareness flows over him from his ankle out, his skin prickles. Bruce feels so hot against his skin, cooled by the water evaporating from his skin in the trek from the showers to the bed. Bruce rubs his thumb back and forth, skates it over the jutting bone in Jason's ankle. Jason's toes curl. Bruce changes his grip, shifts so that his thumb presses into the sole of Jason's foot, and kisses where his thumb had been touching. Jason has to focus to keep his hips from arching.
"Sweetheart, can I?" Bruce asks. Jason chews on his bottom lip again and risks looking directly at Bruce. Their gazes catch and Jason can't look away. Bruce's eyes are dark and hot, the look on his face is enough to have Jason's cunt clench down, he can feel slick trickle out of him.
"Yeah, sure." Jason is down with whatever the fuck Bruce wants to do to him.
Bruce nuzzles against his foot, and kisses it. His grip firms, massages the sole. Jason has to fight not to pull his leg back, embarrassment curls in his gut. Bruce has kissed just about every part of his body before, even some parts that Jason thought were really off limits for a mouth, but there's still something so inherently dirty in Bruce putting his mouth on Jason's feet, even though he knows he just came out of the shower and his feet haven't touched the floor since then.
(The embarrassment mixes with arousal in his belly, makes him burn even hotter than before. He's not into this, he's not, he's just doing it for Bruce.)
(Anything for Bruce.)
Bruce mouths down along the side of his foot, mixing bites in with his kisses with just enough frequency that Jason can't properly anticipate him. Every bite makes Jason's muscles tense in an instinctual flinch, but Bruce keeps him in place. He couldn't pull back now even if he wanted to. He kisses back up, across the sole until he can fit his mouth over the area where Jason's sole moves into the arch of his foot, and bites down hard. He works at it with his teeth, his mouth; his big, hot hands keep Jason pinned in place the whole time. Jason's toes curl against Bruce's face, his pussy throbs between his thighs. He's going to feel that whenever he walks, whenever his foot touches the ground.
"Bruce," Jason whines, planting his free foot against the bed so he can arch his hips and show Bruce where he should be putting his mouth. Bruce locks eyes with him, eyes dark as they gaze at Jason over the edge of his foot. All he does is move to a new, untouched area and bite again.
"Fuck!" Jason cries out. His hand shoots down to rub against his clit, with his other he slides three fingers inside of himself, hooks and rubs against the front wall of his pussy. He's used to Bruce fingering him–Bruce, who can seemingly find Jason's g-spot in his sleep–and so his pussy can take three of Jason’s thin fingers easily. It just clenches around him like it's begging for more. Fuck, he would probably have to fist himself before his pussy was satisfied with his own touches. Bruce has ruined him for anything small. "Bruce, please!"
"So good for me, sweetheart. Such a good boy."
Jason writhes against the bed, held mercilessly in place by Bruce. "I need more."
Bruce sucks a bruise against his ankle. "I know, I know. But you can take more, can't you?"
"No!" Jason whines. His pussy is empty, it needs Bruce's cock.
Bruce chuckles and finally shifts forward in the bed. He cups behind Jason's knee, the leg he doesn't have wrapped up already, and bends it upwards until Jason's hips are forced to lift up and tuck neatly into the cradle of Bruce's lap. Jason grabs his leg from Bruce, spreads himself until he's so open that his pussy gapes.
"Fuck me already, old man, or I'll go find a vibrator and do it myself!"
"Impatient," Bruce scolds, but he fishes his cock out from underneath Jason's ass. Because he's an asshole down to his very core, he doesn't push into Jason, no, instead he drops the full weight of his cock against Jason's pussy. Really shows off just what should be inside of Jason already. His cunt clenches down; Jason's so turned on that he can feel slick drool out of him.
He kicks Bruce twice in the shoulder–or, well, pushes him with his foot, really, since he hasn't exactly got any leverage in this position. "Fuck. Me," he snarls.
Bruce ducks down so he can bite at his ankle again. "As you wish," he intones. There's a trace of amusement in his face that Jason really doesn't like.
Jason opens his mouth to complain, to insult, to do something--probably go and get that toy he mentioned–when Bruce finally pushes his cock into Jason's pussy. His words choke on the moan that Bruce's cock pushes out of him. No matter how often they fuck, Bruce's cock is always so big, it fills up all the emptiness inside of Jason.
"Jason," Bruce grits out. His hands move to Jason's hips, grip him over the bruises that are already there. Jason knows that if he checks once they're done here, they'll be newly dark, the proof of Bruce's claim relaid.
"Fuck me," Jason demands again.
Bruce curls over him, shifts position until his cock hits something deep inside of Jason, and begins to fuck him.
His g-spot is crushed every time Bruce's stupidly thick cock presses back inside of him. Jason's pelvis clenches, it feels like he needs to piss, but he knows if he just pushes through it, it’ll feel so good even moving will be too much for him. He can't do much to move himself, not with the grip Bruce has on him, so instead he encourages Bruce the best he can by clenching down hard on every inward thrust. He's definitely not doing it because it makes everything feel that much better for him.
Or, well, not just because it makes everything feel that much better for him.
"Bruce," Jason moans, more air than actual sound. Everything feels so good.
Bruce hauls him back harder onto his cock, a groan rattles its way out of his chest when Jason clenches his cunt again. "Per–urgh–perfect boy," he grunts, cutting himself off mid-word with a moan.
Jason claws at the bedsheets, rucks them up around his body, pulls everything out of the careful neatness it had been in. His cunt is starting to feel really, really good, it feels like it's been filled with liquid fire, like it's melting into Bruce's touches. The heat climbs up his body, until his head fills with nothing but Bruce's cock inside of him, all other thoughts oozing out of his ears.
His eyelids flutter, he can't keep looking. He curls his fingers in the blankets, in the mattress, anchoring himself down as every muscle in his body pulls tight. Heat explodes through him. His pussy clenches down so hard on Bruce that Jason's vaguely aware of him swearing, of his cock slowing down to a filthy grind that makes the waves of his orgasm go on and on.
Bruce curls over him, falls down so that his elbow brackets Jason's head, his other hand still gripping Jason’s hip. Jason stares, blankly, unable to even draw a breath. His clit rubs against the base of Bruce's cock in this new position, and it twitches at the feel.
It's too much. It's exactly what Jason needs.
"Fuck," Bruce curses, "fuck, fuck."
His hips move faster and faster, Jason throbs around him. It feels so good.
"Perfect, perfect, perfect," Bruce chants and groans, so deep that Jason can feel the vibrations from his chest.
He stills, comes inside of Jason. Jason's on the verge of coming again himself, he's so, so close.
Bruce presses close and kisses him, sloppy, too much tongue. Jason can't coordinate himself either, lets Bruce do whatever he wants with Jason's mouth.
Bruce lets go of his hip and forces his hand between the crush of their bodies, rubs rough circles around Jason's clit. The callouses scratch him perfectly.
Jason comes again, Bruce swallows the noises he makes. He kisses Jason's mouth, slides across to his cheek, kisses more pants for air than anything else.
Jason's chest heaves, brushes against Bruce's whenever he inhales too much. He turns his head just slightly to catch Bruce's mouth with his once more.
Their kisses slow, turn languid as they both calm down. Bruce eventually shifts just that bit too much and his cock slides wetly out of Jason.
Jason's nose curls. "Now I need another shower," he complains, sleep creeping up on him now that the horniness is dealt with.
"As you wish," Bruce murmurs and hauls Jason into his arms once again.
Jason snorts out a laugh and wraps his weak arms and legs around Bruce, anchors himself as best he can. Bruce gets to his feet without the slightest stumble and heads towards the ensuite. Jason buries his face in Bruce's neck and sighs, content. The bruises Bruce left throb in time with his pussy, with his slowing heartbeat, and Jason knows he's going to feel this tomorrow.
Not bad for a distraction.
