Archive of Our Own

Dick's gaze slid over the area. Nobody was around. The docks lay quietly, only the water lapping softly against the boats. Here, at the far end of the harbor, the distance between the lanterns was bigger, leaving large carpets of darkness for Dick to move in on his way to the warehouse right at the water front. It certainly helped that he had retired the colorful Robin costume and these days wore the dark blue suit Bruce had made for him.

His heart dropped for a moment, reminded of Bruce's face when Dick had announced to re-brand as Nightwing after listening to one of Clark's stories from Krypton. Dick still wasn't sure if Bruce would've preferred Dick to stay Robin or if he'd hoped to be consulted on the new name. Dick shook the questions off. It didn't matter right now.

When Dick had almost reached his destination, he ducked behind a stack of emptied crates. One last time, he listened into the night. Neither around him nor from inside the building came any sound so he proceeded.

He didn't want to enter through the two-leaf door at the front. So he scurried around the corner. Arriving at the building's backside, he was lucky to find an abandoned fork lift truck, close to the walls. Eyes flicking over the walls and windows, Dick grinned. An old pipe ran along the wall, right underneath the window front.

Elegant and fast, Dick ran up to the forklift, climbed on top of the operator cab, bend his knees and propelled himself upwards, reaching the pipe with a powerful jump. It was clearly old, but it didn't have to carry his weight for long as Dick immediately put his feet against the wall and pushed himself higher to grab a window sill on the highest level of the building. From there it was easy to climb the sill and drag himself up to the roof.

Pleased, he discovered that his information were correct. A few steps away from the edge, he saw a skylight. Through it, he spied into a room that was clearly not used for storage or packing. The floor and walls were bare and worn and there had not even been the slightest attempt to make the place comfortable let alone cozy. But the simple desk and the metal filing cabinets gave it away as an office.

The best place to start his search. Like Bruce had taught him, Dick used the glass-cutter to create an opening big enough for him to fit and not cut himself. The glass was enforced but no match for Batman's special tools. Without a sound, Dick slipped through and landed on the unpolished wooded ground.

Dick took the room in. It was clean but in need of renovation. Closer now, Dick could see the cracks in the floor panels and the chips in the wall-paint. Weak light from the streetlamps filtered in through the dirty glass panes, casting a gray glow over the whole room. The desk stood at the room's center, the cabinets against the wall behind. Opposite the desk, a door led out of the office. Frowning, Dick wondered if there was any chance he would find what he was looking for when the room could not contain much with that little furniture.

He sneaked over to the cabinets, but wasn't surprised when he found them locked. Of course, he could have picked the locks, but he wanted to try and leave no trace so he decided to check the desk for a key first. On each side were three drawers and Dick grabbed the knob of the upper left one.

He got no warning. No footsteps announcing someone coming. The door just opened and a man stepped in. At first, Dick thought he must've triggered a silent alarm of some sort. But the stranger appeared to be as surprised as Dick was, the two men just staring at each other.

Well, Dick could only assume the man was surprised and staring at him. At least the white glowing eye parts of his blood red helmet vaguely looked in Dick's direction.

Oh damn. That wasn't some Red Hood Gang Goon. This was the Red Hood himself, even though he appeared different than from Dick's memories. He'd switched the fancy suit he'd used to dress in against a motorcycle jacket of black leather, matching the pants, gloves and shoes. Underneath, he wore what looked like a dark gray Kevlar shirt. He was protecting himself more thoroughly now.

More noteworthy however was the man in the clothes. Red Hood had always been a rather lanky guy, wearing a silly pill-shaped helmet. Now, he was muscular with a broad chest and ridiculously thick arms and thighs. His helmet instead of just giving an excuse for his name, from the looks of it, clearly came with technology, even though Dick didn't yet know what kind. Dick highly suspected this was not the same guy, but didn't really have time to think about it.

Both men came out of their shocked stupor at the same time. Red Hood stormed towards Dick. Trying to put some distance between them, Dick kicked the desk, sending the heavy piece towards Red Hood. He grunted when it collided with his legs, almost toppling him over. Almost. So Dick had won only a few seconds which he used to hurl the desk chair against one of the windows.

To his dismay, the chair simply bounced off the glass and thudded to the ground. Damn. The enforced skylight should have been a hint that the other windows wouldn't shatter so easily. But there was no way he'd have time to use Batman's glass cutter now.

Evading a powerful swipe of Red Hood's huge arm, Dick weighed his options. There was the door. He had no idea where it led but if it was filled with Red Hood's goons, he would have called for them already. The alternative was the opening in the skylight. Dick had come without a rope, believing he could use the grapple hook on his way out. Now that option would take to much time. In theory, he could tic-tac against the wall and get high enough to reach the hole, but he would most surely cut himself.

Still, Dick feinted to hurry to the skylight. He hoped Red Hood would follow, leaving the way to the door open. But his opponent did not take the bait. Instead, he grabbed the fallen chair and - with one hand -lifted it and threw it at Dick.

Yelping, Dick twisted his body. He bent his torso sideways while lifting his right leg. Forcefully, he kicked the chair away from himself and by a hair's breadth avoided getting hit. But the maneuver had cost him ground as he found himself in the room's corner furthest from the door, and Red Hood was closing in.

In a desperate Hail Mary, Dick tried scaling the wall, taking a curve around Red Hood. And he almost thought he made it. But then strong fingers circled cruelly around his right ankle, pulling him off the wall. With a frantic kick of his free leg, Dick hit the spot where Red Hood's radius met his wrist. He was rewarded with his iron grip on his ankle loosening. He also earned himself a cry of pain and a curse. A modulator distorted the voice but Dick could hear the "little bitch" pretty clearly.

With both legs free, Dick managed to soften his collision with the ground. But with his limbs all over the place, he knocked his own elbow against his temple at an unfortunate angle. He felt his mask come loose. Damn.

Dick scrambled to his feet. No time left for finesse, he raced to the door. But he was grabbed, pulled back and whirled around with terrifying force. For the blink of an eye he looked directly at the unnerving, emotionless visage of Red Hood's helmet. Than he was backhanded brutally, the hit sending him against the wall.

Painfully, Dick's back hit the solid masonry. Still dizzy from the slap, he couldn't collect himself fast enough. Red Hood's massive form slammed against him, effectively trapping him between his body and the wall. In one last desperate attempt, Dick tried to shove the large man away from him, but Red Hood easily grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head. He gathered both of Dick's wrists in one large palm, trapping them against the cold stone while his free hand viciously grabbed Dick's hair to tilt his head back and glower down at him. Dick's blood ran cold as he realized that the last slap had knocked off the already loosened mask.

Red Hood studied Dick's face. While Dick wasn't sure what he was looking for, he was determined to not give him enough time to find it.

"Richard 'Dick' Grayson," spoke the distorted voice. "You're far from Daddy's house, aren't you?"

It was hard to keep his expression casual and unimpressed. Mask or not, it was surprising for Red Hood to recognize him immediately. Sure, he was a known face in Gotham, but unless his picture was printed in a newspaper with his name right below, for most people he was one of those faces that you have seen somewhere before but can't pinpoint where to save your life. So for this man to know him after one look at him for a mere second in a dimly lit room after a vicious fight, was extremely odd.

But he couldn't hand the reigns over to fear and confusion now.

"I'm looking for someone," Dick said firmly, fake bravado fueling his voice. "Maybe you can help me find him."

He managed to sound calm, collected. As if he was in any position to initiate negotiations. But his heart thundered with the knowledge that he was completely at Red Hood's mercy. And Batman was out of town. No one was coming.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Red Hood answered and even the voice modulator of his helmet couldn't mask the sarcasm. "I only take missing person reports on weekdays, Wednesdays not after lunch though."

"Well, let me go and I'll put it in your Overnight Letterbox." Dick smiled sweetly. "Or you check your notes real quick and I'll be out of your hair."

"Oh, will you?"

"Yes. So: His name is Jason Todd. He is 21 but joined your… business about seven years ago. Dark hair, green eyes." Dick swallowed, the attitude leaving him as he added, "Don't know anything about height or weight these days. Saw him last a while ago."

Dick had been keeping all these words on the tip of his tongue all night. Just in case, he'd encountered a talkative goon. But he had twisted and turned them in his head for months - ever since words had gotten round that the Red Hood gang was back. They gave shape to a six year old longing, that had festered and grown since the night Jason had walked away from him.

*

A strange silence lay over the side yard. Almost as if the city noises didn't dare breach the space, leaving only a muted hum in the distance. The four surrounding houses rose large and intimidating into the dark sky where the stars, as usual, hid behind Gotham smog. Only the moon, her light weakened by clouds, and a sputtering old streetlamp on the other side of the alley threw small stripes of light onto the cold walls and the dirty ground.

Two teenagers faced each other. One of them was clad in a simple yet elegant black suit with matching tie and shoes, combined with a white shirt. The only spot of color was a crimson red face mask, currently tucked under his arm.

"This thing looks silly," said the other boy.

The first barked out a laugh. "Really, Dick? You look like a butterfly vomited on your suit and make fun of my helmet?"

Dick looked down at himself. He wanted to argue that three different colors hardly counted as butterfly puke. His boots, gloves and pants were dark green and the vest red. The brightest color was the yellow of his cape, moving with the wind.

"These are my family's colors, Jason," Dick answered instead. "Back from the circus."

Jason's gaze softened for a moment. "They suit you," he said, placating, "but they're not gonna help much with stealth, are they."

"He explained it," Dick began. "It will actually help me to…"

He stopped himself when Jason rolled his eyes.

"Just… come with me," Jason said, "We don't need some billionaire to tell us what to do."

"Oh, but we let some crime boss tell us what to do?" Dick asked dryly. "I don't see how that is better."

"Because it's temporary," Jason argued. "With the Red Hood gang we can make enough money to leave Gotham in a short amount of time."

"Leave Gotham?" Dick raised his brows in surprise. "You love Gotham."

"It's complicated." Jason waved it off. "And you want to see the world. With enough starting capital we can make that happen."

"You'd leave Gotham for me?"

Jason blushed. "Well, no, not really. It's a shithole anyway, you know."

"I see." Dick smiled. "But come on, Batman is rich! I'm sure he can-"

"He is basically married to Gotham," Jason snapped.

"That doesn't mean he never leaves." Dick rolled his eyes. "And I'm sure he'd take his wards with him, then."

"Yeah, or he locks them in the cave to solve cases meanwhile."

"Don't be silly, Jay."

"Don't be naive, Dick."

"Fine. Tell me what Red Hood has to offer, then."

"Money and power, Dickie." Jason gave him the crooked grin that always made Dick's knees buckle. "I will rise through the ranks and make a name for myself. And with money and power: freedom."

"I don't think it will be that easy."

"It will be with you having my back. And Red Hood says I have promise."

"He doesn't care about you," Dick said.

"No shit." Jason scoffed. "But he also doesn't pretend to care about me so I join his stupid crusade."

"Br- Batman does care." Dick's feet lifted off the ground, only to petulantly meet it again half a second later. "He is my friend. We'll be partners. He'll teach me to fight and how to make the world safer and better."

"You sure that's what the billionaire wants with the pretty orphan he found?"

"How dare you?" Dick took a step into Jason's space, glowering at him. "You willingly team up with drug dealers, weapon dealers, and traffickers. You don't get to accuse a good man of something so atrocious just to distract from that!"

Jason mumbled, "I already told Hood that I don't want to handle trafficking and he said it's fine."

"Oh, that's alright then," Dick said sarcastically.

For a moment, Jason held Dick's angry glare. Then he scowled, took a step back and shrugged.

"Fine, little bird," he mocked. "You go with your new best friend who'll use you for his revenge campaign against all that is evil. I go with my new best friend who will make me rich and free."

He walked away without even glancing over his shoulder once. Left behind, Dick stood in his costume of green, red and yellow, as Jason disappeared into the alley that lead back to the main street. Stubbornly, Dick watched his retreating form, trying to ignore how the gathering tears blurred his vision. As the drops threatened to fall, he aggressively wiped his eyes, took his grapple gun in hand and aimed at the top of the building at the yard's North side. With a clunk, the hook connected and Dick pulled himself up.

After one last glance back down, Dick looked ahead. He raced to the edge of the building and elegantly jumped over to the next. Eyes on his destination, he took the high road over Gotham's rooftops towards his new home.

*

Lost in his memories, it took Dick a while to notice that Red Hood hadn't answered. Long seconds had passed without a word from him. When he finally spoke, there was nothing left of the teasing timbre in his voice.

Almost toneless, he asked, "What do you want with Todd?"

"That's between me and him." Dick lifted his chin. "So where is he?"

Red Hood hummed. Then suddenly, his large hand was at Dick's throat. Dick felt the fingertips against his skin, not choking but making a point.

"You break into my office, go through my things and attack me," Red Hood listed. "And you think you get to ask the questions? That won't fly, little bird."

Dick tensed in Red Hood's grip. And while his helmet hid Red Hood's face, Dick felt the muscles in the arm that lay against his chest go taut.

"Wh- what did you just call me?" Dick demanded.

No answer came. But Dick would have sworn he heard Red Hood swallow under his helmet. When the man finally talked, his voice seemed to shake.

"I- I just told you, you don't get to ask the questions."

"One: no, you asked if I think I get to ask them," Dick smart-assed. "And two…," Dick hesitated and licked his dried lips before whispering, "Jason is that you?"

The words hung between them. Quietly spoken, yet ringing in the silent room. The distorted voice sighed. Red Hood's hand left Dick's throat press a button on the side of his helmet. With a hiss, the piece released pressure and split into two parts that drifted away from each other, then downwards to disappear into the collar, revealing the face underneath.

A face that was so foreign yet so familiar that a sob escaped Dick.

Jason's features had sharpened. Prominent cheekbones and a well-defined jawline had turned the cute boyish face into one of a ridiculously handsome man. His hair still fell loosely to the sides but he kept it shorter and neater now. The steep angled brows had thickened, adding weight and meaning to the look from Jason's eyes.

His eyes.

They had barely changed. Sure, around them some lines had formed. But the irises still shone out of his face in a beautiful sea green, right now aimed at Dick with ever increasing intensity.

For a heartbeat, Dick forgot that his hands were trapped. He strained against Jason's hold in an attempt to reach out and touch him. The motion seemed to jostle Jason out of his own haze. He blinked and cleared his throat.

"What do you want, Dick?"

"You are the Red Hood now?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

"How'd that happen?"

"Long story."

"Well, I have ti-"

The grip on Dick's wrists tightened. Hissing in pain, he watched anger spread on Jason's face.

"Stop pissing me off, birdie," he pressed out between clenched teeth. "You answer my questions now."

"Alright, yes," Dick placated. "Fair enough."

"Why are you here?"

Dick took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me," he said. "Batman is taking his fight on a world-wide level and needs help. I convinced him to let you join and to let your… past endeavors stay in the past. You stay clean from now on, you get a pass."

Jason stared at Dick as if he had grown a second head. He barked out a short laugh.

"You… you really think this is a great offer, don't you?" he asked. "Why would I give up leading the Red Hood Gang for being one of Santa Batman's little elves?"

Despite himself, the joke made Dick chuckle.

"Well, for one, you wouldn't be hunted anymore," Dick said. "For two, you always wanted money and Batman is not naive. He knows that not everyone will fight just for the good of the world. There will be money and connections and resources."

"I'm not afraid of Batman or anyone hunting me." Jason scoffed. "And I have money, connections and resources enough. So no thank you."

"For three, you and I would be together again," Dick added softly. "Fight together, work together, hang out in our free time."

This made Jason pause. Narrowing his eyes at Dick, he hummed as if in thought.

"That's what you want?" he asked. "For you and me to be together again?"

"Yes, of course." Dick smiled. "I missed you."

Jason sighed. Finally, he let go of Dick's wrists. While Dick massaged the sore joints, Jason ran a hand through his hair.

"Missed you, too, birdie," he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Jason nodded. "Luckily, there is a simple solution: You join me."

"What?"

"Work together, fight together and hang out - that's what you want, right?" Jason asked innocently. "I get to keep mymoney, my network and my resources and you and I are on the same team again." He grinned. "Obviously, I'd be in charge, but hey, unlike me, you don't seem to mind following orders."

"But…" Dick swallowed. "I can't just-"

"Can't just what?" Jason interrupted. "Change your whole life, leave the people in it and march to a tune that isn't yours just for our friendship?"

"Well, I mean-"

"And yet you ask that of me," Jason concluded.

"I- I mean, yes, but it's-"

"No, it isn't different," Jason said, "not really. I am where I want to be and so are you."

Dick averted his eyes. He couldn't really argue the point. Obviously, he found that Jason joining forces with him would be better than the other way around. But only because he worked with the premise that a life of fighting crime was always better than a life of committing crime. Jason did not accept that premise.

"Ah, don't pout," Jason said. "It's effective, but not enough to turn my whole life upside down."

Condescendingly, Jason patted his cheek. Before he could stop himself, Dick leaned into the touch. The leather of the glove was smooth but cool against his cheek and he would've preferred a warm palm. At least, Jason's amused chuckle was warm, like Jason's face as it lit up. Clearly delighted, he bent down until their noses were almost touching.

"Aww, little bird," he cooed, "does your sugar daddy not give you enough attention?"

Heat rose in Dick's cheeks. He hoped that the dim lighting in the office would hide the red hue that no doubt was spreading on his face.

Unfortunately, it was true. He and Bruce found little time for each other currently. Between Bruce's attempt to establish a worldwide crime fighting network and Dick's duty to keep Gotham safe in the meantime, there wasn't much room for their relationship. The short stolen moments were filled with ripping fabric, labored breath and passionate moans. With quick unions of two bodies and even quicker goodbyes, leaving Dick sore in body and heart. Dick couldn't remember the last time Bruce cupped his cheek as gently as Jason did.

He couldn't tell Jason that. Jason may suspect. But he didn't know what Bruce and Dick were to each other. Hell, Jason hadn't even understood in the beginning when Bruce and Dick really were just partners and brothers-in-arms. Then again, Bruce hadn't fully grasped what Dick and Jay were to each other either.

Maybe both friendships were just weird.

And the common denominator was Dick.

Huh…

Better not to think about that too hard.

"It's not like that," said Dick lamely, after too many seconds had passed.

"Hmm." Jason's fingers slid from Dick's face to his throat. "Your pulse and that blush on your pretty face tell a different story."

Damn. The dim lights had let him down. Jason's keen eyes and sharp mind saw right through him. As they always had.

Still, Dick struggled to reconcile the boy he had known with the man before him: Lean muscles turned into bulks, formerly cute face all sharp lines and angles now, the aspiring car thief ruling a small crime empire these days. But it was Jason. No doubt.

Dick had found him.

And he needed to keep him.

Safe him.

Mostly from himself.

If only Dick knew how.

"What is it about him?" Jason asked into the silence. "Whatever it is, it was there from the day we met him…" When Dick opened his mouth to protest, Jason scoffed. "Relax, birdie, I'm not saying he touched you when you were a kid. Just…"

His words faded out and his gaze drifted away from Dick, redirecting towards nothing. Dick could only assume Jason was looking at a place that existed in a different time. Jason's expression was tinged in sadness, his mind racing behind somber green eyes.

But then Jason's dark lashes fluttered as if to blink any thought away. A playful smirk chased all traces of nostalgia from Jason's face as long fingers tapped against Dick's pulse point.

"I bet you're always good for him, hm?" he whispered.

Dick shivered. Jason's hot breath ran across the shell of Dick's ear. His large body crowded Dick's leaner form firmer against the wall while his free hand seized on of Dick's wrists and pinned it next to Dick's head.

"Would you be for me?" Jason asked.

Swallowing, Dick met Jason's eyes. "Be what?" he countered the question, voice barely audible.

"Good," Jason answered. "Like for him. If I promise to let you go, will you do for me whatever you did for him last time you two… met?"

Oh.

Oh!

Dick would. Totally. In a heartbeat. One of the first thoughts puberty had ever put into Dick's mind had been "I wonder what Jason's dick tastes like". He had pondered that question whenever his hand was wrapped around his own cock in a rare moment of privacy in their rushed life that for the most part had consisted of temporary homes, thin or non-existing walls and shared mattresses.

Of course, Dick had never asked for a taste.

For one, even his inexperienced 14 year old self had known that "hey, can I suck your cock?" was too blunt a pickup line.

For two, the streets they'd lived on demanded a very specific kind of masculinity from their inhabitants. Proposing another boy was always a risk. Not even to speak of the risk to lose a friend. His only friend.

Now Dick wasn't so sure there ever had been a risk. Not with the way Jason held his jaw in his palm while his thumb ran leisurely along Dick's cupid bow. Releasing a shuttering breath, Dick let his eyes flutter shut. Before any reasonable thought would get a chance to stop him, Dick let his tongue run over the pad of Jason's thumb. Again, he wished away the leather gloves in vain, yearning to feel skin.

"Damn, Dickie," Jason said hoarsely and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly. "You really did miss me, hm?"

"Did you not miss me?" Dick asked.

He repeated the motion of his tongue. Angling his head downward, he lifted his gaze, locking pleading eyes with Jason - submissively, as he knew Bruce loved. And it didn't fail on Jason either, judging by the widening pupils and the muttered curse.

Jason all but ripped it off his gloves. He let them drop to the ground, eyes never leaving Dick's face. Unknowingly, he gave Dick what he wanted by finally pressing his now uncovered thumb into Dick's mouth, rubbing the pad across his tongue. His free hand landed on Dick's waist, firmly holding him in place.

Here goes nothing, Dick thought. So he closed his lips and sucked with enthusiasm. Throwing all his cards on the table, he moaned pleasantly around the digit in his mouth.

"Fuck," Jason whispered. Then, louder, more urgent, he commanded, "On your knees."

Dick released Jason's thumb with a pop and hurried to comply.

He slid along Jason's large form until he was on his knees. His hands all but flew to Jason's waistband, making quick work of button and zipper. Stupidly proud of himself, he found Jason already hard as pulled the leather pants down and freed his erection.

"Hands where I can see them," Jason ordered.

The commanding tone made Dick's own cock twitch against the protective cup. No doubt a Pavlovian reaction to a tall muscular man towering over him and ordering him around. So he obeyed. He put his hands on Jason's thick thighs, biting his lips as he felt the muscles underneath the hot skin.

Jason's cock bobbed right in front of his face. It curved upwards, long, thick, with one a prominent vein running along the shaft. Dick hesitantly shifted his attention away from the mouth-watering sight, seeking out Jason's eyes instead. When his questioning look was answered with a short nod, Dick surged forward and dutifully licked up the salty pearls of precum leaking from the slit.

The reaction was instant. Jason groaned and grabbed Dick's hair with one hand, the other cradling Dick's jaw. Dick busied himself kissing and licking head of Jason's cock, despite Jason's impatiently twitching hips. Only when Jason tightened his hold on Dick's hair, just on the right side of painful, Dick stopped teasing. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and welcomed Jason in.

It was a delicious stretch. Lips wrapped around Jason's cock, he focused on his breathing and began to bob his head. Jason was big and Dick's attempts to deep-throat him made Dick's eyes water. But still he let the cock slide in and out, each motion sending it a little deeper. He could take even this impressive size if he worked up to it.

Dick was good at this.

Perfect, echoed Bruce's voice in his head.

Dick forced himself to open his eyes and look at Jason's face. To let the man of flesh and blood dispel the illusion of another.

Jason peered down on him. His eyes were dark. Only small rings of mesmerizing green were left of his irises, surrounding the deep black pools of his widened pupils. His whole body was a strung bow, anticipation written all over his sharp features and in the way his muscles tensed.

Dick gradually picked up the pace, making sure to hum and moan around Jason's girth, enjoying the reactions the vibrations caused. A sudden roll of Jason's hip sent his cock deeper into Dick and it roughly hit the back of his throat. Dick gagged a bit but quickly wrangled the reflex into submission while he buried his nose in the coarse dark hair of Jason's happy trail.

For a moment, he lingered. Dick enjoyed being fully wrapped up in Jason: the musk and salt of him, the strength of his arms, the size of his body. His own cock pressed against his suit, needy and neglected. But Dick was fine ignoring it for now, to draw pleasure simply from giving it.

When Dick tried to resume moving, he felt resistance. Jason's hand lay heavy on the back of Dick's head, holding him in place. Getting the hint, Dick relaxed. A murmured "good" reached Dick's ear, just before he was dragged back by the hair. Jason pulled until only the head of his cock was still inside Dick's mouth, smirking down at Dick's flushed face. Then he pushed back in, forcing Dick to take him in to the root again. He repeated the movement over and over, guiding wherever and however he wanted him by the hair

Dick sighed. Blissed out, he just put his tongue against Jason's shaft. Allowing himself to be used, he was dragged under by the hypnotizing motion of the act. No more did his thoughts threaten to shift from one man to another because they simply disappeared under a blanket of warmth, arousal and the comfort of an even rhythm.

Only when Jason's hips stuttered, the lovely fog that had wrapped around Dick's mind lifted. Jason's movements became more urgent and his low moans morphed into greedy groans and he relaxed further. Focusing on breathing through his nose, Dick prepared to take what Jason would give.

But then, the fingers in his hair gripped him even firmer to drag him off of Jason's cock. Roughly, he was yanked upwards and thrown against the wall. The expression on Jason's face could only be described as manic when he stared at Dick before yanking him forward to steal a filthy kiss.

"Damn, Dickie," Jason said when he finally broke away, voice wavering in ragged breath, "you're good at this."

Dick felt heat rise to his cheek. It was a bit embarrassing how easily he was flustered by praise. Even if it was a compliment on how good he was on his knees, sucking cock.

"Bet he appreciates it, hm," Jason asked, cruel glint in his eyes.

Dick, not taking the bait, smiled and said, "More than you, it would seem. He doesn't stop before the finishing line to have a chat."

At that, Jason laughed. For a moment, he looked like the boy Dick had known. But then the smile on his face turned predatory and he pulled Dick's head back by the hair harshly.

"I was tempted to cum on that pretty face of yours," he purred. "But I'd rather see it up close when you cum."

Dick was then shocked to find that Jason had no trouble at all seeing through the safety measures of the Nightwing suit. In no time, he had freed Dick's weeping erection. He gave it a torturously slow stroke and grinned smugly in Dick's astonished face.

"Always had an eye on you," Jason answered the wordless question in a low voice. "Had a lot of time to think of that slutty suit and how to get the slut in it out."

"Fuck, Jay," Dick breathed out.

"So hard and wet just from sucking cock," Jason tsked. "He did train his little toy well, didn't he?"

Probably, Dick should be offended. But there was no brain capacity left to do that so he let out a pathetic whine instead. Jason chuckled. Taking hold of both their cocks, he began jerking them off together. It was a rough slide, with only precum and Dick's spit for lubrication. But somehow the burn of it, melting into the pleasure, made it better. Jason pressed their cheeks together and kept whispering degrading filth into Dick's ear, making Dick moan and buck against him.

Dick's body made no secret out of him being close to orgasm - it never did. His voice grew louder, higher pitched, his legs trembled and his hands grabbed Jason's biceps, fingers digging into the muscles. He threw his head back and his eyes fluttered shut. But Jason's voice, hard and demanding cut through the mist that surrounded his thoughts.

"Eyes open, birdie," he ordered. "Look at me."

Obeying, Dick locked eyes with Jason. Jason was breathtaking: the widened deep dark pupils, his slack mouth, the messed up hair, sticking sweat slicked to his face. But most of all, Dick marveled at the absolute want in Jason's expression, the way he telegraphed how much he wanted Dick, as if he had waited for him, to have him like this.

Then Jason's lips caught his again. The friction on his cock, combined with the possessive intrusion of the talented tongue pushed Dick over the edge. Jason was right there with him, their combined release hitting Dick's stomach, hot and wet.

When Dick came down from his high, it felt like time had stood still and was restarting now. Cold, grim reality trickled into his head. His fingers began to hurt from their hard grip on Jason's biceps and it became difficult to breathe with Jason's muscular chest still pressing against his own. He became aware of how sweaty their touching foreheads were and how sticky their release on his stomach.

Still, he didn't move. Not willing to break the fleeting peace of this moment, he kept brushing his lips against Jason's. They were so close, sharing the same air with each labored breath. Dick tried to focus on the heat of Jason's body while the cold air of the room crept up his naked legs and the drying semen on his skin turned unpleasantly cool.

Finally, it was Jason who moved first. He tucked himself back in before gently re-fastening the Nightwing suit- just as expertly as he had opened it. Cupping Dick's cheek, he searched his face and whatever he found seemed to satisfy him because he nodded, more to himself than to Dick.

"I'll let you go back to Batman now," he stated, ran his fingers through Dick's hair once more and then stepped away from him. While he pushed his desk back into its original position, he added, conversationally, "I hope you'll come back sometime though. But…" He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, scribbled something and handed Dick the slip, "… call beforehand next time."

Blinking, Dick studied the number he'd been giving and nodded before he put it in one of his belt pockets.

"Okay," he said quietly.

Jason was already walking towards the door. As he had opened it, he turned around once more and grinned.

"We should be discreet though," he said with a wink. "Not sure how Batman feels about sharing."

Then Dick was alone. He tipped his head back and it hit the wall with a thud. Pressing his eyes shut, he groaned, thinking about Jason's words.

Dick knew exactly how Batman felt about sharing.

This wasn't about Bruce though. It was about Jason. He hadn't agreed to come with Dick tonight, but the door was open now.

And Dick wouldn't let it fall shut again.