Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1270957.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics), Red_Hood_and_the_Outlaws_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Jason_Todd/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Jason_Todd, Bruce_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      much_gay, AU, Alternate_Universe_-_Rock_Band
  Series:
      Part 1 of BruJay_Fic_Exchange
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-05 Words: 5062
****** Dead Sidekick ******
by badlifechoices, jasonptodd
6th April
Bruce’s day was getting worse with every minute ever since he had stepped into
his office to be greeted with the news that he would not be able to hold the
party in Gotham’s most famous club because they hadn’t managed to repair the
damage the latest thunderstorm had caused. He had been willing to invest a lot
of money into the repairs but those people were just not able to get the works
going until a good two days too late. The party he was hosting to celebrate
their latest successful business deal was supposed to be in less than a week
and now he would have to either find a new location or tell Alfred that the
annual Christmas party wasn’t the only nightmare the Wayne manor had to live
through this year.
“Also… the band has cancelled. Apparently their bassist caught the flu.”
Gotham’s most wealthy and famous bachelor was about to tell his secretary to go
and find him a suitable alternative because it was her goddamn job after all.
The look on her face stopped him though. There was something on her mind he
could tell for sure and it was obviously something she thought unfitting or
risky since she didn’t just tell him. “It could prove very difficult to find
another band in such a short time. But, Mister Wayne, there is this one band
currently spending a few weeks in Gotham to record a new single. I may be able
to…” Bruce’s eyebrow rose as he waited patiently for her to continue and tried
not to stare too openly at the clock. “Well, it might not be what you had
planned but it’s a band that most of your employees, especially the younger
ones seem to enjoy.”
“What band are you talking about?”
“I believe they are called… Dead Sidekick.” Her tone suggested that she knew
quite well how they were called, though she tried to make it sound like it was
a purely professional interest.
“Dead Sidekick?” Bruce didn’t know much about the band, since he wasn’t really
invested in the music business and apart from the few songs that were played on
the radio often enough to make every sane person lose their shit he hadn’t
actively listened to anything they had produced. But he had heard rumours about
hotel rooms and concert halls left in a horrible state, causing quite a number
in damage. He had absolutely no interest in letting someone like that into his
precious Manor. Alfred would probably kick his arse if he even suggested
something of the kind. “Aren’t they supposed to be a punk rock band?”
“Yes they are! But their lyrics are good and the tunes are quite catchy.
According to the Rolling Stone they are one of the upcoming bands with enough
potential to do well on the international stage. They already scored a few
chart hits in Europe and their new album is said to be one of the best the
genre has ever seen.”
Bruce frowned. What she said sounded like the band would be the very best he
could get with only a week left to the event but he was still not quite
convinced. What did he care about a few upcoming starlets when they would most
likely try their very best to do lasting damage to his home? Also, was that a
hint of blush on her cheeks? “Let me guess, Miss Moneypenny, they are also very
popular among the female population for their boyish charm and good looks?” The
woman nodded quietly but without betraying her professional expression.
“You will try to find another, less punk-y band that is not known for their
nature as a group of hooligans. But if you do not manage to find anything, you
may arrange this.” Something told him, she had probably called their manager or
whatever an hour ago and was only waiting to tell him about the final details.
He left the office building with the feeling that he had just agreed to
something he would regret later and the intention to research a bit more about
this new punk rock band on the block before they would show up on his doorstep.
 
14th April – The Day before
The preparations were all finished by the time he retired into the luxurious
office with the nice armchair and the windows wide open to let in a
surprisingly warm breeze. He usually didn’t drink on the night before
happenings like that but today he felt he needed the glass of whisky as an
encouragement to work himself through all the critics his other secretary had
dug up on Dead Sidekick.
It was horrifying.
Not only were they known to leave behind hotel rooms in a state of complete and
utter destruction but their concerts ended in violence more often than not even
with the police being present. There were a few reports about the members, Roy
Harper, Bucky Barnes, Conner Kent and Jason Todd, being involved in various
fights. The one report about the lead singer caught his eye for a moment. What
was so special about a young delinquent, with a history of charges such as
assault and theft? The kid was lucky he hadn’t ended up in jail for all he
knew, probably because of his age… 17 was awfully young for someone with such a
reputation. He didn’t spare the few pictures that came with the critics a
second glance and instead went to writing his secretary how she was so
definitely fired if those kids left as much a mess in his home as they
apparently had on their last concert. She’d be even more screwed if something
was burning by the end of the night.
He thought about telling Alfred about the results of his research but he was
pretty sure the man already knew everything there was to know about any of the
visitors including the band and so he just went to bed, to at least get a bit
of sleep.
Bruce dreamt of young people with blurred faces who were screaming and running
around his Manor, setting fire to the tapestry while a crowd of businessmen and
women in fine suits and evening gowns was cheering them on.
15th April – The Wayne Corp. Party
They were late. Of course they were late. They probably weren’t coming at all
considering they were a teenage punk rock band with songs about destroying
capitalism and the patriarchy who was being asked to play for a party hosted by
the personification of capitalism. Bruce didn’t especially like being known as
theplayboy, rich son and successful company owner… he loved it. He was used to
things going his way and only his and if he didn’t get something whoever
screwed it up had it coming. He was nothing like the wild boys who charmed
girls with their rudeness and badarse exterior. He didn’t need it. He was
classy, smart and rich and blessed with genes that basically wrote ‘male model’
all over his handsome face.
The place was crowded with people, all, as expected, dressed in their finest
outfits and filling the room with soft chatter and laughter. Bruce threw a
glance at Alfred through the room but the butler shook his head, indicating
that he didn’t know where the band was either. It was only when his secretary
hurried into the room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, gesticulating
wildly. Only minutes later the room was suddenly quiet as a graveyard and
judging from the lack of Alfred in the room and the lights that were suddenly
dimmed, the butler had assumed his position in supervising the  handling of the
lights. There were heavy footsteps on the small stage and the rustling of
cloth, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground, probably a guitar
case. Someone, with a slightly husky voice yelled: “Lights!” The lights
flickered a few times, flooding the room with a soft, twilight while another
projector cast white and colourful spots on the stage, illuminating the three
young adults standing there.
Bruce was pretty sure his secretary held her breath as the first guitar riffs
filled the large room, enforced by the excellent sound equipment and echoing
from the high ceiling. Then, a flicker of light and a fourth figure stepped
onto the stage. The others were all clad in dark outfits, skinny jeans,
formfitting tops, chains dangling from their hips. But this one was even more…
extravagant. His jeans seemed to be glued onto his skin and Bruce wondered for
a moment how the guy could even walk in those. They seemed to be torn at a few
key points, obviously because they were fashioned that way. He seemed to be
wearing a dark top with a very plunging neckline, baring his hairless and
smooth chest. Over his shoulders hung a tight leather jacket hugging his body
in exactly the right places, as he practically pranced onto the stage in his
high leather boots. He had a wide grin plastered onto his face, exposing two
rows of white, even teeth with sharp canines. His hair looked like he had just
tamed a tornado and from what Bruce could see he was wearing dark eyeliner.
A hand, clad in a fingerless glove grabbed the mic and the guy bowed to the
audience in a half mocking, half serious gesture. “My name is Jason and I am
here to make your evening a sweet hell.” The crowd cheered and for the first
time in what had seemed minutes Bruce could actually hear his secretary
breathing again.
The first few songs were the ones he had heard on the radio, slower not quite
so revolutionary and Bruce had to admit that he had never heard a voice like
that. Jason’s voice was kind of smoky and gravelly but not too deep or rough.
The way he moved was something else entirely. He acted as if the stage was his
alone, the whole Manor belonged to him and every single member of the audience
was someone he personally tried to seduce. Bruce didn’t feel quite as guilty as
he probably should as his gaze stayed glued to the singer’s hips. He lost his
leather jacket after the fourth song and the cheering of all the high society
business associates grew even louder. The fifth song he didn’t sing at all. He
just stepped into the background and grabbed a bottle of water while the one
with the bass, Bruce was pretty sure it was the one named Roy, took his place.
He wasn’t bad but his skills with the bass were definitely his strength and his
voice was no real competition for Jason.
A few minutes into the song Bruce’s eyes wandered back to the teenager in the
back of the stage.
Fuck.
The heir to the great Wayne Empire was very sure the guy was doing that on
purpose, stretching his lips around the neck of the bottle like he was sucking
someone off, his eyes half closed. It surprised him though, that Jason seemed
to notice his attention and for a moment the gaze of those dark, green eyes was
resting on him. Then Jason screwed the bottle shut and replaced Roy again, his
hips swaying and a pink tongue sweeping out to lick a few imaginary drops of
his lips.
The next few songs were fast and Jason seemed to be focused on getting his text
right and having almost sex with the microphone. The room seemed to be too hot
not only for Bruce but also for the singer. His shirt clung to his chest even
more than it did before and the bare skin of his arms and chest was glistening
with sweat. His makeup was just a tiny bit smeared. He looked like he had just
been screwed in the back of his car and Bruce didn’t have the character
strength to deny that it looked delicious.
Of course he would never admit it but Gotham’s favourite bachelor completely
forgot about the time while he was listening to the band that was admittedly
pretty damned good. He almost thought Jason’s attention earlier had been purely
incidentally but then it was suddenly the last song and the boy picked up the
microphone and looked right at him as he announced: “The last song is for our
lovely host. It’s a song we all know from a band we admire a lot. The song’s
called ‘Behind blue eyes’ by The Who!”
No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it’s like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
The boy took a deep breath, as the light slowly faded back into the twilight it
had been in the beginning but his gaze was still lingering on Bruce. A strange
desire filled him in this moment and he wanted nothing more but to walk up to
the stage and pull the teenager against him, feel his breath on his skin, as he
sung, his voice getting lower by the minute as if he was trying to best
himself.
But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free
No one knows what it’s like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
The boy was definitely flirting with him! The way he stared at Bruce with his
half lidded eyes was simply obscene, one hand clutching the microphone, the
other slowly running down his own torso as if he was doing a strip tease and
not giving a concert. He gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up enough to
show off his flat stomach.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
But my dreams
They aren’t as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That’s never free
The boy licked his lips again, hooking into his jeans and pulling them even
lower, his fingertips stroking the bare skin of his hip. If he wasn’t a new
star on the punk rock heaven, he’d be a stripper. And a damn good one too. His
hand slowly slipped lower, stroking the rip in his jeans that ended just short
of his crutch for a few heartbeats.
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
No one knows what it’s like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Jason shot him a last grin and then blew him a kiss and then the light went
dark. The crowd was cheering, some were screaming for more but the band used
the tiny moment of darkness to disappear from the stage. They obviously had
neither the breath, nor did they want to play any more songs. The very last
song had been enough to leave Bruce breathing a bit heavier and he felt his
trousers strain uncomfortably. It was his luck that most of his employees
seemed to be in a similar state. It was fascinating how a seventeen year old
could rock the stage like this and leave the elite of Gotham, way, way older
than the boy was, panting for more.
A few minutes later the lights were turned on again and the guests of the party
were back to conversing. The stage was deserted now and the band probably in
the dressing room Bruce had made sure was prepared for them. The famous
socialite felt lost for a tiny moment, nor sure if he should pursue the
interest in this Jason Todd, or if he should mingle with his guests. He decided
to do the latter, since it was his duty as a host but he kept his eyes open for
any sign of the boy. Bruce was pretty sure he had made it clear to his
secretary that the band was invited to join the party after the concert under
the condition that they didn’t try to burn down the house or anything but he
wasn’t sure if they got the invitation or if it got lost.
He was almost relieved when he saw the boy only about half an hour later, still
dressed in his very, very tight shirt and his even tighter pants, but looking
less sweaty. Oh, how he wanted to make him sweat again, wanted to taste how the
kid’s smooth skin tasted. Bruce didn’t really care if he should be a
responsible adult or something like that and he didn’t even know if the age of
consent in their state was sixteen or eighteen. He only knew he wanted the boy.
“Amazing concert.” He mumbled into the singer’s ear, as he approached him from
behind, resting one hand on his shoulder in a gesture that was not entirely
flirty and not entirely friendly. Jason only smiled as he looked up to him. And
his lips were so fucking red, swollen like one would expect it after a hot make
out session. “Thanks, Bruce. Bruce it is, right?” His face told Bruce that the
boy knew exactly who he was and he only nodded, leaning closer just ever so
slightly. He could smell the boy’s sweat and his aftershave something almost
sickeningly sweet that went so perfectly well with the slight smell of
cigarette smoke. Jason grinned and only then did Bruce notice the piercing in
his tongue. How would it feel to kiss the other with that thing in his tongue?
Would it be good? Would he be able to taste the metal or whatever it was?
“You know. I really wouldn’t mind getting away from all those people. They’re
not really my brand of… you know society.” The boy grinned and something in his
voice, rough from the hours of singing and still so damn sweet, made Bruce want
to abandon all his social duties and drag the kid to one of his many bedrooms.
He still hesitated though, not that he didn’t want to, oh he did, but he didn’t
want the kid to regret it afterwards. “I. Want. You… preferably now.” The low
voice practically purred into his ear and suddenly there was a lean, very hot
body pressed against his and he really didn’t give a shit about anything else
anymore. He nodded at Alfred who just raised an eyebrow, either in disapproval
or indifference, Bruce couldn’t really tell, his mind was about to shut off,
and slowly made his way towards the stairs. They were stopped a few times,
Jason accepted congratulations and spared his ‘fans’ a few smiles and words,
uttered in the same husky voice and Bruce was definitely not jealous.
Finally, after a few more minutes of socialisation they reached the stairs. A
quick look over his shoulder reassured him that no one was actually watching
them, not that he cared who they saw him with but he still wasn’t sure if the
boy was above the age of consent or not. Then Jason passed him, his hips still
swaying provocatively and Bruce hurried to follow him, before the poor kid got
lost or something.
The moment they were around the corner and out of view, where no prying eyes
could find them, he felt a pair of hands against his chest and his back hit the
wall, as the boy pressed himself against him. “Such a kind host… you doing this
with everyone who entertains your guests for you?” Jason was grinning but
before Bruce could even think of something to reply; he felt a pair of lips
press against his own. It was no sweet virgin kiss, no. It was a clash of teeth
and tongue and he felt this skilled hands running all over his chest, crumpling
his suit. He had a few inches on the boy but Jason simply grabbed his tie and
pulled him down into the kiss. His hands felt too big on the slender body but
he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, from running them down the kid’s
sides, cupping his arse and lifting him up ever so slightly.
Jason moaned into the kiss, encouraging the other to continue feeling him up.
Hungry lips pressed against pale skin, sucking bruises onto a slender throat.
The kid leant forward, his breath tickling Bruce’s ear, as he murmured lowly:
“You seriously want to do this here, big man? Not like I’ve got anything
against wall sex or anything… or against a free show for your guests…” Bruce
growled and tore himself away from the kid in an act of self restraint. The
taste lingered on his tongue, as he spared him an almost disapproving glance,
trying to keep his ‘I’m the older, taller, bigger and more dominant one’ role,
while he dragged Jason to one of the nearest bedrooms. It wasn’t the master
bedroom, that one was too far away, but Alfred had been considerate enough to
change the sheets of the ones that were closest to the stairs. Bruce didn’t
know if the butler was expecting exactly this to happen or if it was in case
one of his guests would pass or be too drunk to drive home.
The moment they were through the door he slammed it shut and pushed Jason
further into the room, eyes hungrily roaming over the slender figure. Jason
just grinned and watched him in return, chest heaving and fingers twitching but
otherwise almost ridiculously calm. Bruce remembered being his age, hormones
tormenting his body in every possible way, making him too horny to control
himself. “How do you want it big boy? You want me on my knees? Want me to
follow your every order like you’re my big daddy?” Bruce stared at him for a
moment, unable to even think properly. “Yes…” his own voice throaty, as he
stepped closer, watching Jason sink to his knees and looking up through his
lashes. It was a look that was entirely too innocent but hell, it did turn him
on.
He ran his fingers through the inky hair, feeling the satin softness combined
with whatever hair product he used to form those hard spikes. Jason leant
forward, nuzzling Bruce’s crotch for a moment and a wave of heat shot through
the older man’s body. Those long, slender fingers ghosted over the bulge in his
trousers but then faltered, as if hesitating. “Your orders daddy…” Jason purred
and Bruce could see that he was shaking but trying so hard to keep their little
play going.
“Get out of these clothes.” Bruce stepped back, his mouth suddenly so very dry,
as he watched the kid undress. Jason really could’ve been the best stripper
Gotham’s ever seen. The kid ran his hands all over his own body, pulling his
shirt over his head in an almost tormenting way, that gave Bruce a very nice
view of the kid’s chest and stomach and…
He had never been one to develop any real kinks but the blue and black lines of
ink that decorate his stomach. Two feathers, elegant and beautiful like they’re
slowly sliding down his body. “Turn around.” He commanded without even thinking
because there has to be more.
And Jason did.
Wings. Beautiful wings, from his shoulder blades down to where his skinny jeans
begin and Bruce could have bet they covered his arse too. And damn was he
turned on. The tattoos were so perfectly done, it looked like he could just
spread those wings and fly away. And in that moment Bruce wanted nothing more
than to chain him, he wanted to see that slender neck with a collar, wanted him
secured to the ground so he wouldn’t even think about flying away. He moved
closer, running his fingertips over where the tattoos begin only to bow down
and press his lips there too, like he was trying to taste the mark. “On the
bed. Now.” He growled. Jason hurried to obey but not without looking at him
over his shoulder, a wry grin on his lips because he knew exactly what he was
doing to Bruce and he was doing it on purpose.
Bruce was on him in seconds, covering the smaller body with his own, still clad
in his elegant suit and they were kissing again. It was no less urgent then, no
less heated and passionate, tongues sliding against each other in a desperate
attempt to get closer. Jason was pushing up against him, shamelessly grinding
their lower bodies together and the look on his face was pure sex. Bruce didn’t
bother with being gentle; almost tearing the kid’s jeans down discovering that
he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them.
The boots were a fight. But one he could win and despite his trembling fingers
they soon joined the rest of Jason’s clothes on the floor. “Please, daddy,
touch me…” And if Bruce had ever been so turned on his life he didn’t remember
it because right now and then he was seventeen again and about to come in his
fucking trousers.
And as if the kid hadn’t already planted enough ideas into his head: “You wanna
tie me down, daddy?” Bruce couldn’t form any coherent thought instead he nodded
hastily and ripped off his tie, wrapping it tightly around Jason’s wrists. The
boy arched again, his dick hard against Bruce’s still clothed thigh, smearing a
dark stripe onto the grey fabric. The Gotham socialite leant back, clenching
his teeth as he tried his hardest not to just take Jason’s leaking member into
his mouth and suck him off because that would be no fun at all. Instead he
threw his suit jacket onto the ground next to the bed and almost ripped off his
dress shirt unable to deal with all those tiny buttons.
Jason’s lips were too kissable for someone who wasn’t a pornstar and Bruce had
to have them again.
He fumbled with his trousers, trying to get them off whilst kissing Jason
andgrinding his hips down to get some goddamn friction.
Finally.
Finally he got his trousers off and he was tearing his shorts down to his
ankles, pulling his shorts off in the same semi-fluent movement. He couldn’t
deal with shoes right now and it wasn’t fucking important because their dicks
were rubbing together sending sparks of heat through his body. Jason writhed
underneath him, looking almost torn as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted
his thin, lascivious lips stretched around Bruce’s majestic member or if he
wanted to be fucked or if he just wanted a way to get off.
He decided.
“Fuck me, daddy. Oh please, fuck me!”
His voice was so beautifully broken and his eyes were clouded and dark.
Wanting.
“Turn around.” The boy scrambled to follow suit, rolling onto his stomach and
spreading his legs. The view was exquisite and Bruce was about to complain
about not having any lube but his fingers slipped easily into Jason’s slick
hole. “You prepared yourself…” he growled, leaning forward and biting down hard
into the kid’s shoulder. He didn’t deny the spark of jealousy burning in his
chest and he slipped in another finger, not really stretching him any further
just teasing a bit.
“I… wanted to see whether… I could get your attention.” The smirk on Jason’s
lips was almost wide enough to reach his ears but his voice was wrecked and his
body was coming apart under Bruce’s hands.
Bruce pulled his fingers away abruptly, leaving Jason whimpering for the split
second it took for Bruce to get his dick where his fingers were just now and
pressing in without as much as a warning.
It was tight. Loose enough to slip in inch per inch but tight enough to have
him grind his teeth because he was so close. But he wanted to claim him, he
wanted to have the boy, have him as his alone. In this very moment he wanted
nothing more than to own Jason, be able to keep him at hand forever. But even
in his lust clouded mind he realised that Jason couldn’t be chained, he was
like a stray cat, or like the wild robins in the garden that came and went
however they pleased.
He pushed in until there was no more to push in but he couldn’t muster any
patience and just moved, driving in and out of Jason in a pace that was almost
cruel.
The boy kept crying for more.
Bruce followed the lines of the tattoo with his tongue and they were both so
fucking close and it was just not enough.
“Please… Daddy!”
And the sweet, sweet and so very broken voice shoved him over the edge.
His fingers dug into the boy’s hips, leaving bruises that would stay for at
least a few days, and he felt Jason fall apart underneath him, trembling and
burying his face in the pillow with a sob as his come stained the sheets.
The silence following their release was almost awkward, until Jason began
shifting, and casting a coy glance over his shoulder. “Not that I don’t enjoy
it, daddy, but my hands are kinda numb.” Bruce shivered at the words and slowly
pulled out, settling down next to him on the mattress before he reached out to
undo the tie.
“You gonna throw me out come morning?” Jason muttered into the pillow.
Bruce knew it was no use going down there now, he looked just about as screwed
as he was and Alfred would know how to deal with the guests and he was known
for his moods anyway. The people would still love him for presenting them Dead
Sidekick…
“Depends. Are you going to still be there come morning?”
Jason grinned and it was only barely visible, since his face was still smashed
into the pillow.
“Depends.”
-The End-
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