Work Text:
Dick is carefully applying eyeliner, his hand moving in smooth little strokes as he concentrates on his reflection in the vanity mirror.
Behind him Jason is busy changing clothes, pulling them out of the large duffel he’d brought with him to the hotel, and Dick watches him in the reflection as he pulls his shirt off, the muscles of his stomach flexing in what has to be an intentional way.
Totally confirmed when Jason winks, eyes meeting Dick’s own in the mirror.
Dick scowls.
“You should’ve asked Tim for help, he’d be much better at this than me.”
Dick is almost too tall, and his shoulders are a little too broad. Not as broad as Jason’s, and that’s unfortunately the reason he’s here, but broad enough that his wardrobe for this evening had to be picked with careful consideration.
Big leather jacket, old and torn and a size bigger than he would normally wear so that it covers his shoulders and hides the sharp angles of his body. There’s an incredibly short dress underneath it, bright blue (to go with your eyes, Jason says, grinning) and cheap satin, so that all the attention is on his legs.
He’d had to shave. Everywhere.
Jason’s pulling on a pair of sinfully tight black jeans now, biting his bottom lip as he struggles with the button. “Yeah, but you’re forgetting that baby bird and I don’t exactly get along.”
“Well, if you’d stop trying to kick his ass—“
Jason snorts, shaking his head.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about him, is all I’m saying.” He catches Jason’s eye in the mirror. “I’m not the only one he idolized, you know.”
Dick can’t see him roll his eyes, because he’s pulling a shirt over his head now, but that annoyed little huff of air pretty much confirms it. He goes back to his makeup.
Black eyeliner, mascara, blush and lipstick, and he might actually look like a girl when he puts the wig on. He goes to set down the eyeliner, but it’s jerked out of his hand before it reaches the table. Jason’s other hand on his jaw turns Dick’s face to the right, where Jason is standing over him and studying him with an unreadable expression.
“You’re supposed to look like a cheap hooker, not a socialite.”
Exasperation, maybe? Dick’s not sure, but he feels himself prickle in response. “Well excuse me; it’s been a while since I’ve had to tart myself up.”
“Obviously,” Jason says, and this time Dick gets to watch him roll his eyes. It’s weird because it’s such a familiar expression, one that Dick has seen a million times, but now it’s on a face that seems almost unfamiliar now, features changed by anger and age.
“Close your eyes.”
Dick lets them fall closed, turning his face up towards Jason. He’s not unaware of how vulnerable this makes him, but he hopes that Jason will take it as a sign of trust.
Jason’s hands are surprisingly gentle on his face, and the drag of the eyeliner is careful and precise as Jason applies it much more thickly than Dick had. He uses his thumbs to smear it, just a little, before moving away.
Dick opens his eyes slowly, half expecting a reprimand, but Jason is digging through the lipstick, picking out a tube of red that is much brighter than the one that Dick had chosen. Dick lets his mouth relax and Jason quickly paints his lips, the lipstick thick and waxy and cheap. When Jason leans back, eyeing his work, Dick can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. It’s ridiculous, and he knows it, but he can’t help that he finds himself wanting Jason’s approval.
Jason smiles at him, sharp and quick, as he drops the lipstick on the table and takes Dick’s face in his hands again.
“Just one more thing…”
Dick’s not quite sure how it happens, but one second he’s watching Jay, waiting to see what he’s going to do, and then the next he’s being kissed.
Thoroughly.
With a lot of tongue.
It’s a force of nature, Jason’s kiss, bruising pressure and heat, and Dick can’t hope to keep up with it. Instead he relaxes, tilting his head back farther as Jason presses down, hands sliding from either side of Dick’s face to tangle in his hair.
The idea that he could resist, that he could push Jason away, doesn’t cross his mind at first. By the time it does he’s already in too deep, hands pressed against Jason’s chest, smoothing over his shirt as he follows the retreat of Jason’s tongue back into his mouth. By then he’s already lost over it, because he’s such a slut for kissing, he always has been.
The fact that Jason seems to know this about him, judging by the sharp shape of his mouth as he smiles into the kiss is just something he’s going to have to think about later. Right now he doesn’t have the brain for it. It’s too busy cataloging, memorizing the taste of Jason’s mouth, the feel of his tongue and the way he uses it, deft and deep—
Teeth, sharp enough on his bottom lip to make it split under the pressure and Dick gasps, pulling away at the sting.
He doesn’t get far; Jason’s hand is like a band of steel on the back of his neck, holding him in place. His eyes are hooded, half open as he pulls Dick in again and places small kisses on the hurt, mouthing away the blood that wells up.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers into the kiss, and Dick can taste it now, faint and tangy. “Sorry.”
The taste grows when Jason slides his tongue back in Dick’s mouth, and Dick shudders, fisting his hands in the front of Jason’s shirt as he lets Jason spread the metallic taste of his own blood onto his tongue.
Dick moans and then freezes. Shocked by the sound of it, he pushes Jason roughly away. Jason stares down at him, eyes wide. His lips probably have more lipstick on them now than Dick’s do.
He needs to say something, anything to kill the tension between them, but he can’t find any words, too caught by the heat in Jason’s eyes.
They look at one another for a moment, until Dick can’t stand it anymore and jerks his head away. That just leaves him facing the mirror, and that’s almost worse, his own face staring back at him, flushed and confused.
He’s so turned on that he hurts, and the underwear that he’d had to wear with this dress is not giving him any kind of room for it.
He shakes his head, pushing the feeling down as far as he can before examining his reflection.
It looks good. It looks real, better than what Dick had done himself. Dark eyes and red lips, the lipstick smeared but lingering enough to make his mouth look used. His bottom lip is split right down the middle, not too deep—his chapped lips had opened pretty easily under Jason’s teeth—but just enough to swell up, to look damaged.
“The girls had been roughed up recently,” Jason says, explaining. His voice is low and his eyes are still hooded and dark, watching as Dick wipes away the worst of the smeared lipstick with his fingers.
A thin bead of blood has welled up on his lip, and he licks it away, perfectly aware of Jason’s eyes following his every move.
Dick reaches for the wig, tucking his hair away as he slides it on. He’s pleased to see that his hands don’t actually shake, even though he can feel a tremor in his muscles. Arousal, annoyance and anger, and maybe that’s just what Jason does to him. He can’t say he’s surprised at himself.
As soon as he stands up, smoothing his skirt down and tugging at the jacket, Jason is there, pressing against him and pinning him to the table.
“I’ll fuck you when we get back,” Jason whispers, right in Dick’s ear, making him shiver. He has to close his eyes so he can’t see their reflections in the mirror. “Hold you down on the bed, push up that dress and make you scream for me.” He punctuates the sentence with a roll of his hips against Dick’s ass, hard and hot behind the placket of his jeans. “But only if you’re a good girl. Can you be good for me, baby?”
Jason’s audacity shocks a laugh out of him, and Dick finally, finally finds the words that were pulled out of his grasp the moment Jason kissed him. “You are such a jackass,” he says, shoving away from him and heading towards the door.
“That’s not a no, Dickie-bird,” Jason sings after him, and when Dick turns around Jason’s grinning, tugging on his own jacket and checking that his knives are all there. There’s a wickedly sharp one tucked in Dick’s own high-heeled boots, the cool metal hilt pressing against his calf reassuringly. He probably won’t need it.
Jason pushes out the door first, swatting Dick on the ass as he passes by. “Let’s roll, sweetheart.”
Dick rolls his eyes and follows him, trying to figure out what he’s gotten himself into.
Not that it really matters at the moment. Right now they have a job to do.