FIC: Skin (Bruce/Jason)
FIC: Skin
by eggblue
Date: June 25, 2005
Rating: NC-17 (underage, bondage, dirty!sex)
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Jason Todd (Batman/Robin II)
Summary: Jason wants revenge after Nightwing: Year One.
Disclaimer: DC owns, so don’t sue.
*
He knows about revenge. This isn’t quite it. It never can be, with Bruce. Batman, he means. He always means Batman. Bruce is as real as he is. And Jason knows he’s a dead boy from Gotham. A common, ruthless, beyond-the-pale kind of species. So Bruce isn’t really real at all.
Just Batman. Just… whatever Jason is. It’s not really Robin. Robin’s a borrowed thing; has been for six months since Batman first gave him the costume, the free reign of the street. Jason just figures he’s free now. Whatever that makes him, he’ll find all that out later.
But there was still the matter of revenge. He hadn’t forgotten being bound to a chair in the ‘cave. Tied up, left to sit, helpless… he always remembers that when it happens. It’s happened too often. He hates it. And Jason knows how to hate, how to burn, how to make it count. He figures it’s gotten him this far. He figures Bruce knows that feeling too.
Still, it almost made him feel kinda bad to not pull that punch. They were just training so he knew Bruce didn’t expect it. It had to count the first time. He had to make it hard. He was good at that. Stronger than he looked, and he looked it. And Bruce went down. It was still a pain in the ass to get him upstairs. Surprise counted for a lot though. And when Bruce wakes up to find himself on his bed and not in the ‘cave, well, Jason wanted to see that. If there were extra bruises from being dragged up the stairs, all the better. Jason liked the way bruises looked on Bruce’s skin. There was always something not-right about it. Not boring like his own injuries. Something unexpected.
He chose manacles he knew Bruce could probably get out of. That wasn’t really the point. Maybe Bruce wasn’t aware he wanted this, but Jason knew he did. He could always tell. When you knew someone better than they knew themselves, it gave you power. Jason liked power. Most came around eventually. Caring was for other people. Still, he knew how Bruce could overreact. He didn’t really care, but he knew. So he added in the blindfold to keep Bruce from having to resist too much. Bruce would stop this if he felt it would save him some face. Alfred being away helped a little. That way he could lie about all sorts of stuff if Bruce started to get too resistant. He didn’t think it would come to that. But still.
When he woke up he’d find his wrists in manacles and tied to the bedposts. His ankles would be tied with rope. He would feel the satin sheets of his own bed on his sweat-cooled naked skin. The blindfold wouldn’t hide that much from someone like Bruce. He could put the cock ring on while he was still out. And then just wait.
Walking around naked for more than five minutes always made him want to shave. His hair was lighter and thinner than it should’ve been, but that just made it easier. He’d had a lot of practice anyway. Jason liked the look of himself in Bruce’s bathroom mirror. It was the same as the bruises. He looked out of place. Unexpected. His body kinda sick and wrong in a place like this. No one else would really notice it though. There were lots of things people didn’t see in a place like Gotham. Lots of things your eyes just skip over. His skin was all white now, all over, except for the bruises and the old scars. But those belonged there. Those you didn’t really notice. Just the endless pale skin.
He’d wanted Bruce so long he had to will himself calm. It wouldn’t really work right if he was coming every two minutes and Bruce couldn’t stay hard. But that wasn’t it. You had to be stupid to not know what Bruce was into. Lucky for him most people were stupid. Lucky for him Bruce wanted someone just like Jason. And he was waking up.
Jason grabbed his chin with his hands. “Hey Bruce. Hey. Recognize anything?” Bruce’s face was chiseled into planes. He looked very nice with a blindfold. He was groaning, and wet with sweat.
“This is just simple revenge, you know. You tied me up first. And I got tired of waiting. So hold tight, right? We all gotta get punished sometime.” Jason spoke close to his ear, then let go.
“Jason. This isn’t a game!”
Whoa, he was angry. Good. Fuck that, he had other things to do. “It is now. It’s my rules. I got tired of waiting. And you’re a bit of a coward.” It was true. Bruce would have him wait for years. The guy loved Dick, right? And look where that ended up. Jason wasn’t Dick. Not at all.
“I’m not joking, Jason.”
“Yeah, well, neither am I. So shut up.” Jason slicked up the blood-trapped cock with sweat. He loved the feel of it, the way his fingers just fit around. Bruce could wait. He nipped at it with his teeth and kissed it with his mouth. He looked up to see Bruce’s jaw tightening and the cords in his neck.bulging. Maybe to most people he belonged to Bruce. Jason didn’t see it that way. Batman belonged to him. Since the time he first saw him. You owned your dreams. Batman belonged to the kids like him. He’d thought Bruce was one of them. But Bruce was a prince. Always a bit of a fraud. Jason was real now. Batman was a real as he was.
Bruce went really silent. Jason just heard the air pushing through his nose, the metal hitting the hardwood headboard. His own breathing was louder, gasping out his mouth. His own weeping cock and hairless balls were standing out firm from his body. With every breath he could feel deeper inside himself, contracting and waiting. He felt the concentric rings of muscle tighten and let go and tighten. A thin red scar from his childhood ran the whole way down his cleft. It was pink now with a white vein running through it. Outside his hole was a mass of pink and white scars where his body opened, and somewhere deeper was another mass just the same, with nerves stretched wide. He held his body open over Bruce and breathed. He felt Bruce’s skin tug at his own and stick and slick and pull as he took him inside.
Jason felt their bodies seal together with sweat and will and precome. He thinks he was the first one to groan, but he was too gone to care. Bruce’s skin was slick everywhere and it felt as raw as his cock, as every inch of Jason. Inside he felt the rawest skin meet the rawest skin, their bodies together thin, delicate, elastic and taut. Jason moved on him, his body pulling at Bruce’s cock tight. His come splurted on the headboard. He was really groaning now, almost whimpering, trying to move his feet to get the best angle but he couldn’t decide or stop and his limbs floated awkwardly around Bruce’s body, hard as a plank.
He couldn’t stop moving and Bruce buried his head against his own arm and teeth gleaming and was fighting something but Jason couldn’t tell what because his hips only thrust faster and his body bounced them off the mattress. Jason could feel the rings of muscle contract around Bruce tighter than fingers and this time his come hit the side of Bruce’s neck and his ear and he moved his head and caught some on his lips and tongue but didn’t stop, didn’t seem to care or notice.
Jason wondered if Bruce was beyond thought and feeling too, escaping just like him and running back home into Jason like instinct, like the blood he could feel pumping with a heartbeat, pulsing through his guts. Jason’s noises, Jason’s risk, Jason’s revenge and how did he know it would come to this anyway, what built their bodies into what they were and covered them with too much skin, too much sweat and feeling and too much touch.
He loved the way Bruce’s cock knocked the air from his lungs with each thrust and closed his throat. He loved the red flush creeping its way over Bruce’s chest. He loved to claw his fingers over it, across any skin he could reach. The way Bruce felt the same everywhere he touched. Just slick skin, too raw and out of control.
Then neither of them could see and Jason shut his eyes and opened his mouth against the ceiling and their voices were crying together for some mercy but he figured both of them had forgotten about that long ago before they could remember at all.
Jason felt the bottom of his heart fall out when he thought about the future with Bruce. Tomorrow always seemed like a fantasy. Here now he watched as Bruce turned red, quaked, went taut then loose. His own hands shook over Bruce’s stomach. He knew Bruce would leave this. He knew he would take the revenge for what it was and not ask for more. He felt it like he could feel Bruce’s body respond to him. Just as he knew he could have this again, whenever he wanted.
He leaned forward and let himself fall against Bruce’s motionless body. He pressed his lips to skin and whispered mindlessly.
“Now we’re even.”
END
by eggblue
Date: June 25, 2005
Rating: NC-17 (underage, bondage, dirty!sex)
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Jason Todd (Batman/Robin II)
Summary: Jason wants revenge after Nightwing: Year One.
Disclaimer: DC owns, so don’t sue.
*
He knows about revenge. This isn’t quite it. It never can be, with Bruce. Batman, he means. He always means Batman. Bruce is as real as he is. And Jason knows he’s a dead boy from Gotham. A common, ruthless, beyond-the-pale kind of species. So Bruce isn’t really real at all.
Just Batman. Just… whatever Jason is. It’s not really Robin. Robin’s a borrowed thing; has been for six months since Batman first gave him the costume, the free reign of the street. Jason just figures he’s free now. Whatever that makes him, he’ll find all that out later.
But there was still the matter of revenge. He hadn’t forgotten being bound to a chair in the ‘cave. Tied up, left to sit, helpless… he always remembers that when it happens. It’s happened too often. He hates it. And Jason knows how to hate, how to burn, how to make it count. He figures it’s gotten him this far. He figures Bruce knows that feeling too.
Still, it almost made him feel kinda bad to not pull that punch. They were just training so he knew Bruce didn’t expect it. It had to count the first time. He had to make it hard. He was good at that. Stronger than he looked, and he looked it. And Bruce went down. It was still a pain in the ass to get him upstairs. Surprise counted for a lot though. And when Bruce wakes up to find himself on his bed and not in the ‘cave, well, Jason wanted to see that. If there were extra bruises from being dragged up the stairs, all the better. Jason liked the way bruises looked on Bruce’s skin. There was always something not-right about it. Not boring like his own injuries. Something unexpected.
He chose manacles he knew Bruce could probably get out of. That wasn’t really the point. Maybe Bruce wasn’t aware he wanted this, but Jason knew he did. He could always tell. When you knew someone better than they knew themselves, it gave you power. Jason liked power. Most came around eventually. Caring was for other people. Still, he knew how Bruce could overreact. He didn’t really care, but he knew. So he added in the blindfold to keep Bruce from having to resist too much. Bruce would stop this if he felt it would save him some face. Alfred being away helped a little. That way he could lie about all sorts of stuff if Bruce started to get too resistant. He didn’t think it would come to that. But still.
When he woke up he’d find his wrists in manacles and tied to the bedposts. His ankles would be tied with rope. He would feel the satin sheets of his own bed on his sweat-cooled naked skin. The blindfold wouldn’t hide that much from someone like Bruce. He could put the cock ring on while he was still out. And then just wait.
Walking around naked for more than five minutes always made him want to shave. His hair was lighter and thinner than it should’ve been, but that just made it easier. He’d had a lot of practice anyway. Jason liked the look of himself in Bruce’s bathroom mirror. It was the same as the bruises. He looked out of place. Unexpected. His body kinda sick and wrong in a place like this. No one else would really notice it though. There were lots of things people didn’t see in a place like Gotham. Lots of things your eyes just skip over. His skin was all white now, all over, except for the bruises and the old scars. But those belonged there. Those you didn’t really notice. Just the endless pale skin.
He’d wanted Bruce so long he had to will himself calm. It wouldn’t really work right if he was coming every two minutes and Bruce couldn’t stay hard. But that wasn’t it. You had to be stupid to not know what Bruce was into. Lucky for him most people were stupid. Lucky for him Bruce wanted someone just like Jason. And he was waking up.
Jason grabbed his chin with his hands. “Hey Bruce. Hey. Recognize anything?” Bruce’s face was chiseled into planes. He looked very nice with a blindfold. He was groaning, and wet with sweat.
“This is just simple revenge, you know. You tied me up first. And I got tired of waiting. So hold tight, right? We all gotta get punished sometime.” Jason spoke close to his ear, then let go.
“Jason. This isn’t a game!”
Whoa, he was angry. Good. Fuck that, he had other things to do. “It is now. It’s my rules. I got tired of waiting. And you’re a bit of a coward.” It was true. Bruce would have him wait for years. The guy loved Dick, right? And look where that ended up. Jason wasn’t Dick. Not at all.
“I’m not joking, Jason.”
“Yeah, well, neither am I. So shut up.” Jason slicked up the blood-trapped cock with sweat. He loved the feel of it, the way his fingers just fit around. Bruce could wait. He nipped at it with his teeth and kissed it with his mouth. He looked up to see Bruce’s jaw tightening and the cords in his neck.bulging. Maybe to most people he belonged to Bruce. Jason didn’t see it that way. Batman belonged to him. Since the time he first saw him. You owned your dreams. Batman belonged to the kids like him. He’d thought Bruce was one of them. But Bruce was a prince. Always a bit of a fraud. Jason was real now. Batman was a real as he was.
Bruce went really silent. Jason just heard the air pushing through his nose, the metal hitting the hardwood headboard. His own breathing was louder, gasping out his mouth. His own weeping cock and hairless balls were standing out firm from his body. With every breath he could feel deeper inside himself, contracting and waiting. He felt the concentric rings of muscle tighten and let go and tighten. A thin red scar from his childhood ran the whole way down his cleft. It was pink now with a white vein running through it. Outside his hole was a mass of pink and white scars where his body opened, and somewhere deeper was another mass just the same, with nerves stretched wide. He held his body open over Bruce and breathed. He felt Bruce’s skin tug at his own and stick and slick and pull as he took him inside.
Jason felt their bodies seal together with sweat and will and precome. He thinks he was the first one to groan, but he was too gone to care. Bruce’s skin was slick everywhere and it felt as raw as his cock, as every inch of Jason. Inside he felt the rawest skin meet the rawest skin, their bodies together thin, delicate, elastic and taut. Jason moved on him, his body pulling at Bruce’s cock tight. His come splurted on the headboard. He was really groaning now, almost whimpering, trying to move his feet to get the best angle but he couldn’t decide or stop and his limbs floated awkwardly around Bruce’s body, hard as a plank.
He couldn’t stop moving and Bruce buried his head against his own arm and teeth gleaming and was fighting something but Jason couldn’t tell what because his hips only thrust faster and his body bounced them off the mattress. Jason could feel the rings of muscle contract around Bruce tighter than fingers and this time his come hit the side of Bruce’s neck and his ear and he moved his head and caught some on his lips and tongue but didn’t stop, didn’t seem to care or notice.
Jason wondered if Bruce was beyond thought and feeling too, escaping just like him and running back home into Jason like instinct, like the blood he could feel pumping with a heartbeat, pulsing through his guts. Jason’s noises, Jason’s risk, Jason’s revenge and how did he know it would come to this anyway, what built their bodies into what they were and covered them with too much skin, too much sweat and feeling and too much touch.
He loved the way Bruce’s cock knocked the air from his lungs with each thrust and closed his throat. He loved the red flush creeping its way over Bruce’s chest. He loved to claw his fingers over it, across any skin he could reach. The way Bruce felt the same everywhere he touched. Just slick skin, too raw and out of control.
Then neither of them could see and Jason shut his eyes and opened his mouth against the ceiling and their voices were crying together for some mercy but he figured both of them had forgotten about that long ago before they could remember at all.
Jason felt the bottom of his heart fall out when he thought about the future with Bruce. Tomorrow always seemed like a fantasy. Here now he watched as Bruce turned red, quaked, went taut then loose. His own hands shook over Bruce’s stomach. He knew Bruce would leave this. He knew he would take the revenge for what it was and not ask for more. He felt it like he could feel Bruce’s body respond to him. Just as he knew he could have this again, whenever he wanted.
He leaned forward and let himself fall against Bruce’s motionless body. He pressed his lips to skin and whispered mindlessly.
“Now we’re even.”
END