Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8573188.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU_(Comics), Batman_(Comics), Batman_and_Robin_(Comics), Batman_-_All
      Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Jason_Todd/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Jason_Todd, Bruce_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      jason_is_16, bruce_is_a_very_bad_sex_ed_teacher, Age_Difference,
      Voyeurism, Teacher-Student_Relationship, kiiiinda, Self-Denial,
      Masturbation, Public_Blow_Jobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-16 Words: 5499
****** To Watch A Thousand Times ******
by queeniegalore
Summary
     Jason's got questions, and he's pretty sure Bruce has got the
     answers. Late night cave sex ed is probably not a good idea for
     anyone involved, though.
Notes
     Jason is 16, and there's mention that he lost his virginity (not to
     Bruce) when he was around 14. There's some non-consensual voyeurism
     happening here, too, but it's pretty light and harmless (as far as
     those things go).
     Thanks again to my trusty beta, spiritthatdenies, who helped me out a
     lot with the ending.
     Title from 'Time Out From The World' by Goldfrapp.
See the end of the work for more notes
 
“Hey B, Can we talk?”
 Jason had waited until Bruce was out of uniform, showered and fresh, in that
tired but wide awake state they got into after a long, hard patrol. It was five
am and Jason knew that the sun was coming up outside the cave, and there was no
school today, just endless sleep and then the excitement of another patrol
after dinner, all laid out in front of him.
 And Bruce was smiling, eyes bright and sleepy, stubble coming in dark over his
cheeks, hair a wet mess. So gorgeous it hurt a little, like always. Jason had
almost learned to deal with it, live with it day to day like it wasn’t a thing,
but every now and then - in the dark of the predawn, when adrenaline was
draining from his body and his defenses were down - he let it blindside him
again, Bruce’s beauty. Let his body react, cheeks redden, throat go dry. Let
his brain go just a little off the rails.
He swallowed, and added, “It’s kinda personal.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his chair, looking up at where
Jason was perched on his corner of the desk. Jason’scorner, the space Bruce and
Alfred just casually kept clear for him now. He was getting a little big for
it, thighs knocking against the keyboard, B’s pen holder, but no one said
anything about it. So.
“What’s up, little Jay?”
Oh, god, nicknames. Bruce wasin a good mood. Jason ran a slightly shaky thumb
over his bottom lip, split and a little swollen from a wayward elbow earlier,
and took a deep breath.
“It’s about sex,” he blurted, and Bruce’s smile went a little frozen, a little
crazy around the eyes. Jason licked his lips, tongue catching the tip of his
thumb. “I mean, I was gonna ask Dickie some stuff but he hasn’t been by in a
while and I just - if I can just - “ he was tripping up over his words, even
though he’d practised this in his head, thought about it for a long time. Bruce
was just watching him, brows still raised and a flush on his cheeks, and Jason
suddenly felt so young and so dumb.
Whatdid he think he was doing here?
“Ahh.” Bruce tapped his thigh a few times. “We went through - uh. We covered
the basics. I thought. Remember.”
Through his mortification, Jason almost snorted. Yeah, Bruce had tried to give
him the birds and the bees talk back when he was fourteen, way after the horse
had bolted the stable, and it had taken Jason’s horrified burst of “I’m not a
virgin, oh my god I know what goes where!” to make him stop. Since then condoms
occasionally found their way into his bedside table without him putting them
there, which was humiliating but also, yes, did come in handy.
But that was not what this was about. Exactly.
“No, god no. I uh, still know the basics,” he said. “That’s kind of...that’s
what I needed some elaboration on.”
Bruce frowned. “The basics aren’t...adequate?”
God, they were both a pair of awkward weirdos, Jason couldn’t stand it.
“I mean,” Jason started, powering through it. “The basics are only getting me
so far. I want to kind of...move beyond the basics into um. Kind of more
advanced territory.”
“Jesus Christ, how old are you, Jason,” Bruce asked, rubbing a hand over his
eyes. Jason shrugged.
“I just. I wanna know how to… B, how do you make girls come? Like, I am so hit
and miss and it’s killing me.”
There, it was out there now, and Jason was finally free to die. He could feel
his cheeks flaming to match Bruce’s, and his mouth was throbbing now, sore and
hot as he worried it between his teeth. Why had he thought this was a good
idea. He didn’t need to have sex, right? He could go to Tibet and become a monk
and take a vow of chastity and bury himself in the snow and-
Bruce was laughing, just quietly, behind his hand, and Jason was so outraged he
kicked him, hard in the thigh.
“Hey fuck you-”
“Language.”
“-screw you, B, don't laugh at me. Oh my god, this was the worst idea I’ve ever
had, I should have waited for Dick, you are the worst person possible to talk
to about this stuff.”
Bruce, shook his head, looked back up at him. He was still tired, Jason could
tell by the lazy way his eyes travelled over his face, caught for a second on
Jason’s busted lip.
“Why on earth,” he said, voice rough with lack of sleep. “Do you think Dick
would be any better at this?”
Jason stared at him in disbelief. “Have you seen his girlfriends? Dick dates
literal goddesses. He’s gotta be doing something right, B, it can’t all be just
the pretty face.”
Bruce looked at him seriously. “He’s also very flexible,” he said, deadpan, and
they stared at each other for a moment, two, and then bothburst out laughing,
loopy and a little giddy in the early morning air. Jason felt like a great big
weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and there was something - even if he
didn’t get what he needed out of this, this had still been good for them,
probably. Forced emotional bonding, exactly what B needed sometimes. Even if it
had to be shoved down his throat.
“Besides,” Bruce added, when they’d calmed down a little. “Have you seen the
women I’vebeen with? Give me a little credit, Jay.”
Well. Jason certainly had seen the women Bruce had been with. A few times - a
few very memorable times - had actually seen them withhim.
If Jason was honest with himself, he got himself off a lot thinking about those
times.
“Okay, but, that’s all for show, right? Brucie Wayne fuh-, uh, takes ladies
home,” he corrected demurely, sneaking a glance at Bruce through his lashes.
“It’s just an act.”
Bruce was leaning back in his chair again, long legs sprawled out, head tilted
up. He was frowning, but more thoughtfully than anything, like he actually was
taking this seriously. Jason drew one foot up onto the desk, pushed the other
out against Bruce’s chair, wedging his toes under Bruce’s thigh to anchor it
there. Bruce let him, just flexed his muscle once against Jason’s foot. Jason
tried to hold back a shiver.
“Lesson one,” Bruce said, voice still a bit hoarse. “Women are never just for
show. It's true that I have to keep up the playboy act but I’ve never been with
a woman I didn’t want to be with. It’s never just a chore, that’s not fair to
them.”
“But there’s been so many,” Jason said. “How can you - how do you keep it up?”
Jason realised what he’d said a split second after he’d said it, and Bruce
grinned up at him.
“Well. Maybe that’s a conversation for another time.”
“Oh my god, Bruce,” Jason whined, but they were laughing again, and there
was...a thrum of something in the air. Probably just in Jason’s mind. But
something about the hour, about the roughness of their voices, the closeness of
their bodies...Jason was going to have to be careful he didn’t start showing
Bruce exactly how into this he was.
Even though there was a part of him that kind of wanted to do just that.
“Okay, okay. Every woman is different. I can’t just give you a...a cheat sheet.
It’s not a series of buttons to press in order and then they’re coming under
your hands.”
Jason’s mouth went dry. Bruce just casually talking about - about that, Jason
couldn’t help but picture it. Drag up a couple of memories, Bruce in his study
during a party, that pop singer bent over his desk, pressed down against his
blotter, look of ecstasy on her face as he did something that made her cry out,
sharp and almost animalistic, nails clawing at the wood. The scratch marks had
mostly polished out, but Jason still caught himself staring at them, sometimes.
Remembering the thrust of Bruce's hips, slow and strong and hard...
“Jay?”
Jason blinked, shaking his head a little. Bruce was looking at him, a little
amused, a little concerned.
“You need rest.”
“No! No, I.” Jason laughed softly. “You think I’m ever gonna have enough balls
to bring this up with you again?”
Bruce smirked, and Jason had to look away, because he knew that smirk. He’d
become real familiar with it when his eyes were closed and his hand was on his
dick and all he could think about was the way Bruce could move.
A different time. Bruce and Selina. And fuck, Jason would never be able to
forget that, still jerked himself off thinking about what he’d seen. Bruce and
Selina, just a blur of dark on a rooftop together, backlit by the rising sun.
Costumes still on, but whatever B was doing had her arching her back against
him. One of his arms was clamped around her waist, the other working between
her legs, heel of his gloved hand grinding against her, and she’d arched again,
so sharp it looked painful. Jason couldn’t hear, but he could see the red O of
her mouth, the flush in her cheeks and oh god, Bruce, leaning to whisper
something in her ear that made her twist in his grip, grabbing his face and
kissing him hard, but probably not as hard as Jason in his cup, turning
silently and making the long, uncomfortable journey home on his own.
He’d seen Bruce’s mouth, too. Swollen like she’d hit him, or bit him, smiling a
little just before she kissed him again, her claws digging into his neck.
“So, where were we?” Jason asked, a little too loud, interrupting his own
memories before he could get swept away again. The way Bruce was looking at him
definitely wasn’t helping. “Cheat sheets? Gimme the cheat sheets.”
“No, I said there wereno cheat sheets.”
“Okay, but,” Jason sat up a little straighter. “It's like a fight, right?
That’s how I see it.”
There went the eyebrow again. “A little niche, Jason, but some women are into
it, sure.”
Jason gaped - Bruce’s lips bruised, the scratches on his neck Jason had caught
a glimpse of later - and then squeezed his eyes shut for a second and powered
on.
“Wow. Okay. I meant that you make me learn katas for a reason. So I’ve got
moves to fall back on. And then I tailor them to each individual fight once I
know what I’m in for.”
And Bruce nodded, Jason could see he was warming to the subject. He’d just had
to frame it in the right way. “Yeah? You don’t just go in for the kill straight
up? You have to, uh. Work your way through the playbook.” Jason rubbed his
fingers against his thigh absently, caught Bruce watching and stopped.
“That’s actually not a bad way of looking at it,” Bruce mused, dragging his
eyes back up to Jason’s face. “Alright. Next piece of advice?”
He paused, made Jason wait for it, studying his face. Jason could feel his
cheeks redden, his mouth open a little. He licked his lower lip, which still
stung, and tasted blood, sharp and coppery on his tongue. It was time to admit
that he was so turned on his head was spinning, and intensely aware of how
close Bruce was, how intimatethis had gotten.
“Patience.”
It took Jason a moment to realise that Bruce wasn’t just scolding him, in that
deep, raspy voice.   That was the advice. When he figured it out, he let out a
long, slow breath.
“Oh.”
“What am I always telling you out in the field, Jay? Patience. Slow down. Pay
attention. Same deal. Give yourself time and don’t rush through on the way to
getting yourself off and leave her behind. You understand?”
Jason could no longer form words. He swallowed and nodded, tried to look mature
and knowledgeable and like he wasn’t waging a desperate internal war against
his threatening hard on.
Bruce hummed, then tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Kisses should be
slow until she speeds them up. Lick at her mouth softly, gently, bite her lips
a little. Touch her in places you wouldn’t expect before you get to where you
want to go. Run your fingers up the inside of her forearm, down the side of her
neck. Draw it out, get her worked up before you…” he paused, and then borrowed
Jason’s phrasing. “Go in for the kill.”
Jason was shivering, phantom fingers tickling up the inside of his own arm as
he imagined Bruce touching him like that. Taking his time. Tormenting him with
more than just words.
“Lay her out, make her comfortable. You’re gonna get off no matter what, don’t
worry about yourself. Use your hands, your fingers. Your mouth. Touch…” Bruce
paused, sighed. “Jay, I shouldn’t be-”
“Keep going,” Jason said quickly, low and urgent. “Please.”
Bruce’s lips quirked, eyes still closed. “This is more a learning by experience
thing, Jason. You gotta get your hands dirty.”
Jason gave up the fight, felt his dick throb at those words. I could get them
dirty right now, he thought, a little desperate, a little crazy. Show me how.
He shifted a little, trying to angle his thigh to hide how hard he was, cock
starting to be obvious through the thin material of the sweats he’d changed
into. There probably wasn’t much point. Bruce...never missed much.
Jason realised he didn’t care quite as much as he should.
“See, girls are hard work,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, watching
Bruce’s face, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Teenage boys, now. They’re easy.”
Bruce opened his eyes. “Are they?”
Jason tried not to look too obviously like he was offering himself up on a
plate, while at the same time...well, literally offering himself up on a plate.
“In my experience, yeah.”
“Your personal experience?”
Jason kissed boys, sometimes. Sometimes he did a little more. He’d been naive
to think Bruce hadn’t realised.
“You know.”
Bruce tilted his head. “I take it you don’t need any advice there?”
“If I did, could yougive it to me?” Jason shot back, and Bruce didn’t bite, but
didn’t make any denials either and…
Jason had seen that, too.
Not too long ago, at a Wayne Foundation Gala at the Manor. Jason had been
lurking in the back halls, close enough to the party so he wouldn’t get in
trouble from Alfred if he got caught, far enough away that he didn’t have to
actively be involved with it. He’d seen Bruce go by, almost said something to
him, but then he’d seen who he was with, who he was leading away.
One of the catering staff brought in for the event. Jason was pretty sure they
hired through a model agency, because they were all always drop dead gorgeous
and this - this boy- was no different.
Pretty face, face to put Dickie to shame. Deep tan, big, smiling blue eyes,
waves of tousled dark hair that was falling out of the little bun at the back
of his head. The kind of guy Jason hated, really, but obviously, undeniably,
fucking gorgeous.
Bruce was holding his wrist, and he was Brucie-ing it up a storm. He still had
a glass of champagne clutched in his other hand, for god's sake, and Jason
would have laughed if he wasn’t in shock over the fact that B was kissing a
guy, right there in Wayne Manor, pressed up against the wall like he didn’t
care who saw.
Jason...Jason had had no idea.
He shrunk back into the shadows of a doorway, held his breath as he watched.
They didn’t fuck around, kissed hard, bruising, Jason could see Bruce’s fingers
getting wet with splashes of champagne. Could see the way Bruce was licking
into the guy’s mouth, biting his lip, thrusting a thigh between his legs and up
against his crotch, making him gasp. Bruce laughed, low and rumbling in his
chest, and when he lifted the champagne flute to his mouth the guy caught it,
licked the wetness off Bruce’s fingers and oh, fuck...
Bruce pressed, down, and then the guy was on his kneesand Jason was gonna ruin
his nice suit, could feel his dick, already impossibly hard, twitching in his
briefs.
The guy got his mouth around Bruce, and Bruce watched, had a sip of his drink
while the guy went to town.
Jason had never wanted anything more in his life than to be the one on his
knees, Bruce’s fingers tangled rough in his hair, Bruce’s cock fat and heavy in
his mouth. He moaned, couldn’t stop himself, and then clamped a hand over his
mouth, eyes wide, had they...had Bruce? But no, he was still hidden. The sound
of this pretty fucking waiter enthusiastically giving B sloppy, messy head
right there in front of him had covered for him. Jason slowly breathed out,
lowered his hand. Pressed it hard against his cock instead, willing himself to
just hold out, not to come in his pants like a kid.
It didn’t last long.
Bruce was thrusting forward, kind of lazily, still holding his flute up so he
didn’t spill more, the prick. But Jason could see it getting to him, his red
cheeks, the sweat starting to ruin his hair, his mouth parting. His head fell
back against the wall exposing the long, thick line of his neck, and before
long, oh, oh , Jason was watching Bruce lose it, watching him come.
Jason felt himself spurt precome in sympathy, dick aching, and then Bruce
smiled down at the kid, crooked a finger under his chin and tilted his head up
to watch him swallow. “Good boy,” he mouthed, and Jason had to get out of
there, running almost doubled over in the opposite direction until he found an
empty room - God, any room - to hide in, shove his hand down his pants and
barely touch himself before he was shooting, jizz pumping through his fingers
and ruining his suit after all.
Like he was about ruin his pants now, with Bruce’s knowing eyes on him, still
way too close, and-
“I saw,” Jason blurted out, before he could stop himself. “I saw you. At the
gala, the other week. With the waiter.”
Bruce frowned for a second, then his expression cleared as he obviously
remembered, figured out who Jason was talking about. The very tops of his
cheekbones flushed red, and it somehow gave Jason the courage to keep going.
“I watched him, watched him blow you, but I didn't stick around to see how - if
- you returned the favour. I had to go, go jerk off because I…” God, was he
really saying this? He felt drugged, mouth running away from him, fingers
clutching anxiously at the edge of the desk. He looked at Bruce helplessly. “It
was so hot, B.”
“Oh, Jay,” Bruce sighed. “You're very young.”
Notwhat Jason wanted to hear.
“If I’d gone to Dickie with this after all,” he said, making himself look Bruce
in the eye. Bruce was staring at his mouth again, had to drag his gaze back up
to meet Jason’s. “If I'd spoken to him...would he be kissing me right now?”
Bruce inhaled, sharp and quiet. “Dick is straight.”
“And you're not.”
“You're a child.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. That stung. “Fuck you Bruce. You know better.”
Bruce's smile was rueful, and his cheeks were still red. He looked at Jason
steadily. “I should.”
Jason's breath caught in his chest.  It was too much, too much to deal with,
too hard to stop himself from sliding down into Bruce's lap and -
“Jason. We should go to bed.”
Jason leaned forward. “Together?”
Bruce laughed, rubbed a hand over his eyes. Jason could see it shaking.
“Christ you're bold,” he muttered. “No, not together.”
Jason heaved a sigh of frustration, fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.
“Bruce...you're not done.”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure we are done here, Jay.” And Bruce made to get up.
Jason was there, though, blocking him in with his legs, feet resting on either
side of Bruce's chair, thighs tensed.
“No,” he insisted and...Bruce wasn't trying very hard to get past him. Bruce
could have escaped without breaking a sweat, without even having to catch his
breath. Bruce. Bruce had been looking at his mouth all night.
“You're not done teaching me,” Jason whispered, and bit his bottom lip one last
time, feeling the cut open up again, tasting blood.
Bruce looked very tired.
“You only want me to want you,” he said in his low, scratchy voice, “Because
you’re a teenager and if I don’t you think it will be the end of the world.”
Jason almost kicked his chair.
“I already think you want me,” he replied, anger making him, yeah, bold. Like
Bruce had said. Like Bruce had always admired about him. “I want you to admit
it to yourself!”
In a second Bruce was surging up, knocking Jason back onto the desk and looming
over him. He fisted a hand in the front of Jason’s shirt, and Jason shivered,
staring up at him with huge, pleading eyes.
“Bruce.”
“You think I don’t know? All night ,” Bruce’s growl came out of nowhere, gaze
zeroing in on Jason’s mouth. “All goddamn night, Jason. Asking me to teach you
how to fuck? You’ve been driving me crazy.” He leaned in, and Jason almost
whimpered as his lips got closer, the heat coming off him in waves. “You think
I don’t know how much I want to do this?”
And then…
“Oh.”
Not Bruce’s lips but his teeth, gentle on Jason’s bottom lip, scraping along it
once and then sucking it into his mouth, worrying at it, chewing just a little.
Jason couldn’t stop his hips from pumping up, just once, his aching cock
desperate, the pleasure-pain from his mouth shooting right the fuck through his
body. He got one hand up, clutched weakly at Bruce’s shoulder, fingers digging
against hard, huge muscle, and then sliding up. And Bruce was letting him, oh
god, letting him touch (“Use your hands, your fingers,”), letting his
fingertips trail up his neck, letting his palm cup that hard jaw that looked
like it was chiselled from granite but which was so softit took Jason’s breath
away.
His other hand was holding him up, but he trusted Bruce not to let him fall. He
just, he just had to-
“Run your fingers up the inside of her forearm…”
Jason had always been a quick learner.
Bruce’s arm was around his back almost before Jason had even moved, holding him
tight as Jason brushed his fingers across the inside of Bruce’s other elbow,
then followed the vein down his thick forearm to his wrist, pressed his thumb
into the palm of Bruce’s hand where it was still clutching the front of Jason’s
shirt. He felt Bruce shiverat the touch, felt his breath quicken. And there was
something about knowing how much this was affecting him, that it wasn’t just
Jason alone in this. Bruce wanted it, Bruce was shaking for him, muscles tight
and tense and heart pounding, just like Jason’s.
Jason moaned, low and throaty, he’d never felt anything like it in his life. He
let his body sag into Bruce’s grip, thighs lifting and squeezing at Bruce’s
waist. He was so big and so there, hot and hard and huge in Jason’s space. And
his teeth were still in Jason’s lip, biting down harder now, making Jason’s
cock throb.
This time when he pushed up he was almost pushing against Bruce, and he nearly
came on the spot, eyes watering with how good it felt. The pain and the
intensity, the slight, teasing pressure against his dick so needed.
Bruce gasped and tore himself away from Jason’s mouth, eyes a little wild.
Jason shook his head, tried to tug him back down. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, B.”
Bruce slumped forward, rested his forehead on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m not taking
my own advice,” he mumbled, and Jason laughed breathlessly, grinding up now,
cock wet in his pants and he tried to push it against Bruce’s hip.
“I told you, teenage boys are easy,” he said. “B, Bruce, I’m so close.”
“Already?” Bruce lifted his head, rubbed his mouth along Jason’s jaw, his
cheek. “Tell me, Jay. How many times have you watched me?”
“Ahh…” Jason squeezed his eyes closed, face burning, and wrapped both hands
around Bruce’s shoulders, holding on for dear life. “Bruce, come on.”
“How many? I knew about a couple. You’ve never been subtle, Jay.” He licked at
the side of Jason’s neck, took his earlobe between his teeth and bit down a
little too hard. Fuck, Jason was almost there, a breath away from coming in his
fucking pants and Bruce had still barely touched him.
“You - you’re not subtle either,” he managed, squirming in Bruce’s hold. “At
parties, you like to take them into your study. Fuh-fuck them over the desk, up
against the window. Discretion isn’t exactly part of the Brucie Wayne act,
right?”
Bruce groaned, and Jason twisted a little, thighs burning with effort. Bruce
was hard, fuck, Bruce was hard for him, holding himself still like fucking
stone, panting into Jason’s ear. Jason was trying to rub against it, but he
couldn’t find the right angle and Bruce wasn’t helping and fuck, he just needed
to come so bad.
“And so you watched,” Bruce whispered in his ear. “Did you get off on me or
them?”
The words poured through Jason like molten gold, and he remembered every time
he’d jerked off thinking about what he saw, jerked off picturing Bruce and his
women.
“Both, Bruce, please, pleaselet me-”
Bruce hummed in satisfaction, the sound rumbling through Jason’s body. “You
have homework.”
Jason almost collapsed. “What?”
“You said I’m not done teaching you? So tonight was your first lesson. Your
homework is to apply what you’ve learned in the field.” He kissed the corner of
Jason’s mouth, then down over his chin, the hollow of his neck. “I know you
fuck, Jason. That’s what this was about, right? I want you to make a girl come
for me. Can you do that?”
He reached down, finally, and Jason’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as
Bruce pushed the heel of his hand against Jason’s dick, at last, at last, and
gave him something to grind against.
“Report back,” he whispered, and that was it, Jason lost it, come pumping out
of him and soaking his boxers, soaking his sweats, making a mess of Bruce’s
hand. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, the only things anchoring him to
reality Bruce’s arms, Bruce’s mouth kissing wetly over his face, Bruce’s voice,
talking him through it, “Let go, Jay, that’s it, you feel so good, you did so
good, just let go…”
Jason was a complete wreck, orgasm ripping through him like wildfire, fueled by
Bruce’s voice. He groaned, long and hard, dropping his head back and doing as
he was told, just letting go, giving himself up to Bruce like he always had.
Always would.
Bruce held onto him just long enough to make sure he wasn’t actually going to
slide off the desk, and then he took a couple of steps back, casually wiping
his hand off on his pants like it wasn’t covered in Jason’s fucking jizz. He
looked cool as a cucumber, like maybe they really had just been discussing
Jason’s study schedule, like he hadn’t just driven Jason out of his mind with
nothing but a couple of bites and a well timed press of his hand.
And Jason would have been fooled by it fine, if it wasn’t for the long,
thickbulge in the front of Bruce’s pants. Oh. Jason wanted that.
“B.” He drew it out, sprawling back on the desk in invitation, knocking
anything that was still left standing off to clatter across the floor. He let
his legs fall open, cheeks red and flushed because fuck, he could see the wet
patch over his crotch, knew exactly what he looked like. “Get back over here.”
And Bruce, the asshole, just gave a strained chuckle and shook his head, like
he was competing for the world championship in self-denial.
“No,” he said, and there was regret in his eyes, for sure, and lust as he ran
his gaze over Jason’s body. But there was determination, too, and with Bruce
that always won. “I...that’s enough. I mean it this time, Jay. Time for bed. No
arguments.”
Jason scowled. His knees were still weak, he was still catching his breath from
one of the hottest orgasms of his life, and he was being scolded?
“Remind me not to ask you for tips on how to handle the afterglow, Bruce,” he
muttered, and Bruce grinned.
“Not my forte, sorry,” he said, completely unrepentant. His hair was a mess,
dried from his shower by now, standing up in a bunch of unruly cowlicks. Jason
wanted him to come back closer so he could get his fingers in it, tug on the
curls and see if Bruce was into that. God, he wanted so much more.
Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”
“Hey,” Bruce raised his eyebrows, folded his arms. “Language.”
Jason snorted in disbelief, shaking his head, and slowly made himself slip to
his feet. Okay, maybe Bruce was a littleright. He was so tired his head felt
fuzzy, and the endless trek out of the cold, damp cave up to his room seemed
almost impossible.
“Language, he says. After that.”
Bruce’s eyes softened, and Jason smiled a little to himself as he relented and
stepped in, pulling Jason into a quick, tight hug, soothing the sting of
rejection.
“Go to bed,” he said again, quietly. “Okay?”
And Jason understood that what he was really asking was ‘are you okay? Is this
okay?’ and also ‘I need my space and so do you.’ And for once, Jason was ready
to listen.
He’d imagined this happening more times than he could count. And his dreams
always ended - well, most of them ended with him coming into a wad of tissues
and trying not to moan Bruce’s name. But when he made it further than that,
he’d imagined Bruce maybe - fuck. Taking him to bed. Letting him in. Something
more than a bit of grinding in the cave after a long patrol, something more
than some whispered dirty talk, a whispered confession.
But Jason had always been too optimistic for his own good, and he was tirednow,
the weight of the night settling in his chest, the hours since he’d last slept
stacking up against him. His orgasm had cleared his head, but also drained him,
and he gazed at Bruce sleepily, watching how tight he still held himself.
Watching the trepidation slowly, subtly creep into those blue eyes.
Jason was a wreck, but Bruce was a mess, and Jason got that. Jason had never
really known when to stop pushing, but he knew enough to stop now. He’d gotten…
more than he’d ever actually expected, if not more than he’d dared hope for.
And he was sure, he was certain, it wasn’t going to be the last of it. Not a
chance in hell.
He could wait. If he had to, and he was pretty sure he did, he could wait.
Patience.
“Yeah, Bruce, I’m good.” He smiled big, genuine, and stretched. “Need another
shower and about twelve hours sleep, but I’m good.”
He glanced up through his lashes at Bruce’s tired face, lust still clouding his
eyes as he looked back. Jason wondered if he was going to go jerk off, or if he
was headed to a cold shower and a morning of denial.
His dick was still hard, and Jason felt a weird sense of pride in that at
least. He wasn’t going to get it today, but Bruce still wanted him. He’d still
done that to Bruce.
He tapped Bruce on the arm, and started making his way to the staircase. “It’s
okay, boss,” he added as he passed him. “We’ll work on your bedside manner next
time.”
“Next time?"
Jason didn’t even need to look back to know that that fucking eyebrow was up
again. He knew Bruce too well. Always had.
“Oh yeah, B. Next time.”
He paused, one hand on the railing. “I mean, you’ll be wanting that field
report, right?”
And the memory of Bruce’s sharp gasp kept him smiling all the way up to his
room.

End Notes
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