Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1016544.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Jason_Todd/Damian_Wayne
  Character:
      Jason_Todd, Damian_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      Fuck_Or_Die, Sex_Pollen, Dubious_Consent, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-24 Completed: 2013-10-26 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 3886
****** Unraveling At The Seams ******
by AkumaStrife
Summary
     Damian shouldn’t even have come here, but he couldn’t go back to the
     manor, not with Dick’s damn concern and fussing. And Drake. Jason
     seemed logical when he had no capability for real thinking, probably
     knows what this infernal drug is and how to make it go away.
     Although, glorified for its early symptoms, the pollen is still very
     much a drug, and the fall is always worse than the climb. Jason knows
     this, and once Damian is well enough to return to the Manor, he has
     some ass-kicking to do on his behalf. But until then....
Notes
     This trope is like a rite of passage, yeah?
     This is really quite filthy, fyi.
***** Unraveling *****
His vision goes blurry and his lungs are so tight that he’s forgotten what it’s
like to really breathe. He’s tight as a zip line, full of something like
electricity and white sparks and stars. But he keeps running, the cold wind
easing the heat rolling through him, scared that if he stops it’ll consume him.
Keeps moving quick across dark, dirty rooftops in the hopes that he can outrun
it. But he’s not in his right mind, not thinking right, because there’s no
outrunning something that’s already inside him, sinking claws and fangs into
his brainmusclesbones, turns them to liquid.
He vaults across the open air and lands on the fire escape clumsily, can’t even
think straight to chastise himself because his foot’s already through the
glass, knocking out the rest so he can crawl in.
“What the fuck!" 
Damian doesn’t answer because his chest heaves, eyes fluttering, lightheaded
with all this want and need and something he’s not completely familiar with,
crawling over his arms and up his neck and down between his legs, and he
doesn’t know what to do with it all. 
There’s a hand suddenly on his shoulder and he bites back a whimper, the bare
skin sending ripples of heat along his shoulder even beneath cloth, and jerks
away before he does something pathetic and desperate and please god help me
make it stop or ease this burning I don’t know which. He stumbles away, trying
to put distance between him and Jason because he doesn’t even know why he’s
here and he can feel the leer trained on his back.
“You smell like fruit and flowers.”
Heknowsheknowsheknowsheknowsheknows
He feels like he’s covered in bees and his whole body is thrumming, screaming
at him; his hands shaking violently as he catches himself on the edge of a
table and distantly hears the crash of things he’s knocked off the edge.
“Poor Babybat. This must be your first time getting hit by Ivy’s Sex Pollen.”
“Shut up!” he yells and Jason is laughing, a deep sound that rolls over him and
he realizes belatedly his hands have unclipped his cape and are tugging at his
attaché belt, yanks them away like they are not his, offended and confused.
“Well, it’s about time honestly.”
He shouldn’t even have come here, but he couldn’t go back to the manor, not
with Dick’s damn concern and fussing, and Drake. Jason seemed logical when he
had no capability for real thinking, probably knows what this infernal drug is
and how to make it go away.
There’s those hands on his arms again; Jason helping unclip buckles, Jason
breathing hot against his ear, Jason peeling away his domino mask, Jason
rubbing this thigh, until the heavy thud of the belt on the floor shakes Damian
out of his heated stupor. He pushes Jason away, pushes past him to Jason’s
bedroom. Maybe there he can just take care of this by himself. 
“Let me help, Kitten. After all, what are big brothers for?” Jason is saying
smugly, but it sounds warped in Damian’s ears, muted like he’s underwater. “I
can see how bad it hurts, and it’s only gonna get worse. The best antidote is a
warm hand around your cock.” 
Damian chokes back a moan, can feel the fire rushing along his skin at Jason’s
words, slams the bedroom door shut because he doesn’t trust Jason and he
doesn’t trust himself and the world tilts as his dick throbs insistently. He
itches and can’t quit squirming, spandex rubbing his sensitive skin raw, just
needs to get his clothes off like an hour ago. 
He doesn’t notice the dirty room around the single mattress pushed up against
one wall, just falls into it and gasps high and needy. His fingers fumble in
the race to get the robin outfit off, ends up tripping one of his own safety
wires and the stinging shock to his fingers make his teeth clack it hurts so
bad. But it’s quick pain, searing heat so quick that it sets his nerves on fire
and makes him whine in want. Makes his fingers fly faster and clumsier. 
And then he finally gets his hands around himself and he makes a sound he
didn’t even know he could and his hips jerk up as his toes begin to cramp up at
how tightly he’s curling them. But Jason’s in the door way, watching him with
obvious appreciation. 
“Get out,” Damian hisses, but can’t seem to stop his hands; can’t stop one from
jerking himself off and the other scratching at the inside of his thigh because
it’s not enough and he’s shaking and trembling and panting as his muscles
contract in frustration. 
“Oh c’mon, you’re wound so tight,” Jason says as he stalks closer, grin bright
through the darkness. Damian is powerless to disagree as his whole body jerks
when Jason shifts up the mattress over him, hips canting up into his hand like
an invitation and Jason’s grin splits wide and sharp. “I’ll take real good care
of you, baby. I know what you want. Fuck you real good.” 
There’s hands on him, skin on skin, tacky with sweat and some weird textured
substance his skin’s been secreting ever since he stumbled into Jason’s
apartment; and holy shit he barely realizes how he gasps and begs for it,
chewing on his bottom lip and tossing his head, wants those hands all over him
spreading sharp sparks like comets. 
Fuck me please please please just fuck me Jason get on with it.Grabbing Jason’s
shoulders and wrapping his legs around him anyway he can and rolling his aching
dick up into his stomach for the friction because it hurts so fucking badand
Jason groans, mumbles how he sounds like a fucking slut for him and how hot it
is and Damian can barely think straight anymore, Jason biting through his
bottom lip until iron floods his mouth and there’s fingers slicking their way
inside his mouth. Strings of saliva and blood coat Jason’s fingers and he’s
pulling his hand away, chuckling at how Damian whines and then keens because
they’re pushing between his ass and he tries to wiggle down into them. It burns
and almost tears and he’s gasping, pushing into them, his whole body trembling
and protesting and please please please Jason it’s not enough.
Two fingers working him open. Three. Crooks them. Damian’s seeing stars.
Finally finally finally.  He twists his hands in his own hair, eyes shut
tightly in overwhelming frustration and sensation, sobbing as those thick
fingers thrust in and out of him quick and ruthless. It’s just want he needs,
so perfect, thighs shaking as a litany of pleas and foreign curse words tumble
from his mouth. 
“Pretty little bird,” Jason coos, and it sounds so fucking filthy rolling off
his tongue with four fingers now up to the knuckles in his ass. 
Damian writhes, doesn’t have any real control over his own body anymore, hurry
the fuck up Jason I’m going to die. 
And Jason’s mouth is all over him. Kissing up his thighs, biting hard at his
hips, as his fingers hook sharp and Jason licks at his quivering abdomen.
Damian’s skin tastes overly sweet, makes his tongue a little thick with the
traces of pollen. He only just gets his other hand wrapped around Damian’s dick
before his coming with a wrecked sob, cheeks wet, hips jerking and his entire
being swept away with a layer of something like static electricity like sticky
sweet soda and pop rocks and Jason works him through it, jabs at his prostate
just to watch him squirm and his face screw up around the painful pleasure that
fucks up his sense of time.  Yeah that’s it baby feels good doesn’t it? I’m
gonna make you feel a lot better don’t worry gonna fuck you hard and thorough
until all the pollen’s gone and you’re just a cold husk. 
Dickiebird wouldn’t be able to satisfy you like I will. 
Jason’s impressed with the potency of the dose, because Damian’s erection
doesn’t even waver, just stays hard and raw and needy. He pulls his fingers
free, groans at the way Damian’s ass clamps down frantically in the effort to
keep him inside, Damian whining at the empty feeling that leaves him too
fucking hot and like the need is going to crawl up his throat and choke him. 
Jason tugs his clothes off and hums deep in his throat, because Damian’s being
driven completely insane and is already pushing his own fingers into his
stretched hole, trying to feel full again, trying to elevate that painful ache.
Shaking because he just got off but it’s barely made a dent and his pupils are
blown so wide. Come on Jason fuck me it’s not enough stop making me beg dammit
I can take it. 
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.” Because Damian’s reactions to the pollen scream
virgin and he’s not ashamed to admit that it makes him hard in his jeans to
know that he’s getting the kid first. That he’s gonna be the one to hold that
little, lithe body down and wrench the most sinful sounds from him, push his
legs open and fuck him to honest tears.
***** Falling *****
Jason takes him over and over. Relishing in the sensation of new muscle and
soft skin beneath his hands. Drinks in the needy cries and moans he never
thought he’d hear Damian utter. Gets off on the way Damian blossoms for him,
opens up and gives it all to him. 
He sucks dark marks into the boy’s skin, tastes him wherever he wants just
because he can and Damian loves it. Jason’s mouth on his skin makes him shake
and almost grin around his panting, never before feeling as good as he does in
Jason’s control. Never before felt so much like he was flying and on fire, so
consumed by pleasure. 
Jason loses count of how many times Damian comes after a dozen, just continues
to fuck him until he literally cannot stay awake. Stimulates and pleasures him
until Damian is incoherent and trembling with an empty sensation that he
doesn’t exactly like. Boneless and vulnerable as if his skin’s been stripped
away. And suddenly, as the lust ebbs, he’s not feeling so good anymore. 
Damian crashes, still wrapped around Jason, still impaled on Jason’s cock. 
And when Damian wakes up hours later screaming, Jason is there. 
He let’s Damian cling to him with sharp nails and a bruising grip. Doesn’t hold
him, not yet, not when he knows Damian’s skin feels as though it’s literally
burning up from the inside out and yet so cold that he might never get warm
again; so oversensitive that a slightly off touch will make him feel like it’s
being peeling off. 
Because no one talks about the darker side of Ivy’s pollen. No one talks about
what it really does. 
The pollen is still a drug, still an incredibly harmful substance that alters
the body’s senses all at once in horrific amounts. It just so happens that the
only known cure is the physical contact and endorphins attributed to sex. 
When the pollen hits the bloodstream it starts by fucking with the victim’s
sense of touch. Makes them so sensitive a breeze seems to blister and they
sweat and burn not unlike an animal in heat. Releases so many endorphins that
the body literally doesn’t know what to do with them, and thus get mistaken for
other things. Poor judgment and memory impairment and arousal intense enough it
seems like a dying need. 
And in a sense it is, because usually that’s when the victim finds someone to
ease the ache, someone to touch them all over and fuck them into unconscious
bliss. But to those unfortunate enough to not receive that? Or the dose high
enough? 
The pollen moves on to the victim’s hearing, and then quickly escalates to
invade their vision. Makes them hear sounds that aren’t there, and voices from
haunted pasts. It hooks its claws into the victim’s memory and yanks up
everything that makes them go mad. They begin seeing nightmares and things that
send them spiraling into panic and fear unlike they’ve ever known. They feel
like they’re dying, raked over coals and dry ice as they’re sent to hell and
back. 
A small part of the original compound came from something in Scarecrow’s cache,
so it’s no wonder that the withdrawal takes such a toll. 
Jason had hoped that if he worked quickly enough he’d be able to flush it out
of Damian’s system all at once. But the dose must have been too much for
someone still so small; someone who’s never had it in their system before. 
Damian screams and sobs and writhes in pain, clings to him with enough force
that Jason will feel it for days. Begs him to make it stop, to make it stop
ripping at his insides. Damian can see colors that don’t exist and every little
shift of the smallest material, the room spinning and contorting, shadowy
shapes peeling away from the walls with vicious fangs and reaching hands. It
hurts. Everything hurts. Feels like he can’t close his eyes even though they’ve
dried out and his stomach rolls with overwhelming nausea, like he’s going to
hurl, like everything would right itself if he could throw up, but it won’t
come and he twists against Jason, nails dug deep into his shoulders as he tries
to center himself.  
So Jason holds him close, holds him down, and fucks him through it. Does all he
can to distract him, and feels some of the tightness leave his chest when
Damian begins moaning in something other than pain, starts rocking into Jason’s
movements, rather than away from the walls that bleed terrifying shadows. 
Because sex is the only thing that stops the pollen from destroying its victim.
Though glorified for its early symptoms, it’s still very much a drug, and the
fall is always worse than the climb. Quitting cold turkey is brutally the same
no matter the substance. 
Jason praises him, talks to him like jailbait in some bad porno if only for the
fact that it makes Damian’s pupils shrink enough that they’re not stretched
over the entire iris; helps Damian focus on his voice and the present. Murmurs
filthy things to shock Damian’s lungs into working again. That’s right baby you
can take it you like it rough like this don’t you. You’re fucking begging for
it and it’s so hot how much you just want to be fucking devoured want to muddy
up all that inexperience and innocence you have. Shit you’re beautiful like
this all wrecked and needy beneath me I want you like this forever. 
Runs his hands over Damian’s clammy skin continuously because he knows how it
eases the burn, how the touch keeps the madness at bay. And for the first time
that night Jason presses his lips to Damian’s, knows that saliva is like a
soothing agent not unlike lotion on a sunburn, and it quiets Damian’s cries
into something softer and just this side of deliciously wrecked; something more
wanting and insatiable. Like before. Before the dregs of the pollen began its
ravaging.
Shhh yeah that’s right c’mon baby you’re fine I promise I know it hurts baby I
know it hurts but you’re doing so good it’s almost over c’mon you can get
through this. 
Damian, still half out of his mind, doesn’t fight him. Just whines softly and
pushes into it, wraps his arms around him without cutting gouges in his back
and opens his mouth easily for Jason. 
And yeah, Jason’s going to murder Dick for letting Damian get this much of the
stuff in his system without any proper training. 
***** Retribution *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It’s two days before Damian is coherent enough to leave. His skin ashen and
eyes bloodshot, his legs trembling as they try to support him. But then….that
isn’t exactly the pollen’s fault, and Jason lets himself feel smug for a moment
as he watches Damian struggle to pull on a pair of his old jeans that have
shrunk enough from too many washes. Knows that he’s the one who did that; that
he was the one to wreck the kid completely and have him panting his name. 
In the end, though, Damian’s too weak to do a damn thing on his own, so Jason
sticks him on the back of his motorcycle and delivers him to the Wayne Manor
himself. Pushes Damian into Alfred’s concerned hands and snaps, “You better do
everything Alfred says, you hear me? Or else I’ll be back and you’ll learn how
little bedside manner I have.”
Alfred steers the boy away before he has time to formulate a comeback, mouth
gaping at being ordered around as such. He seems to have forgotten the 24 hour
period in which he was a sobbing mess in Jason’s arms willing to do whatever
Jason wanted. It doesn’t exactly give him an excuse to argue now. 
With Damian in good hands, Jason tosses his helmet to the ground and moves
through the manor with furious purpose. Dick is easy to find, predictably in
Bruce’s old study, and he barely has the chance to rise to his feet before he’s
reeling with the force of Jason’s right hook. He moves in quick before Dick can
get his bearings and shoves him up against the wall hard enough that his head
cracks against the plaster, forearm slammed into his windpipe to hold him
still. 
“You selfish bastard! How fucking reckless and irresponsible can you possibly
be?” 
Dick squirms in his hold, trying to find an angle in which to speak easily.
“Damian is capable. I had faith he could handle it, especially if he was with
one of us.” 
Jason makes a frustrated sound, like he can’t fucking believe it, and jabs his
arm in harder. “Do you know how much of that stuff was in his system? At least
5,000 Units! Which is a hell of a lot for a fucking kid who’s never been
exposed to it! You seem to forget that not everyone takes the pollen for fun.”
He spits that comment, uses it like a weapon to dig under Dick’s skin. Tries to
make him understand how fucking serious this is, that’s not just some pissing
contest between them, it’s a human life. 
“What did you do when you got hit with it? Come back here and use your precious
Timmy? Drag him into your sick little games? Or hell, did it even affect you at
all? Bet you’ve built up such a tolerance that 5,000 U’s is nothing.” 
Dick narrows his eyes, practically seething. “And yet you took advantage of him
and his condition. How does that make you any better than me?” 
“He came to me, because for some reason he thought I could help him better than
you. And I’m starting to see why. Yeah, I fucked the kid thirty ways from
Sunday. I’m not ashamed to admit it, and I’m sure as hell not gonna deny how
much I enjoyed the little brat. But you know better than anyone that someone
was gonna have to do it, and I’m starting to think you’re 100% less worried
about your partner, and 110% more upset that it wasn’t you doing the fucking.” 
When Dick doesn’t answer Jason shakes him hard and slams him against the wall
again.  
“Jesus Christ, Dick, could you pull your head out of your ass for ten seconds
and stop being so fucking petty? The kid was running a fever of 104 during the
withdrawals! I had to do everything I could so the blood would keep pumping to
his heart, he was hallucinating and two seconds away from going into cardiac
arrest—are you hearing me?” 
To his credit, Dick finally starts to look remorseful. Like the gravity of the
situation is finally dawning on him. 
Jason gives him another hard shove before letting go and backing away. “This
isn’t a game anymore. You’re not that kid flipping around in short pants and
making puns. You’re Batman and he has a hell of a lot of responsibility. At
least Bruce tried to come save me. You couldn’t get passed your jealousy to
even call.” 
“I never asked for the mantle!” 
Dick’s barely finishes the statement before Jason’s fist connects with his face
again, blood gushing from his broken nose as Jason floors him with a jab to his
kidney. Jason crouches down to Dick’s level and fixes him with the best
imitation of the Bat Stare Dick’s ever seen. 
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t ask to get beaten to death either, but it comes with
the job. We all have to man up and take responsibility for the things thrust
upon us, even though we don’t like it.” 
He straightens and shakes out his hand, leaving the room without a backwards
glance. 
“Is he going to be okay? Damian, I mean.” 
Jason stops and turns, not surprised to see Tim hovering outside the study. He
regards him with a look and, instead of answering, asks, “Would you have done
it? If he’d come to you instead?” 
Tim scoffs. “He’d never come for my help, not in a million years.” Then his
expression falters, changes into something more sincere, chin held rigid and
high. “But yes, of course I would’ve.” 
Jason chuckles and pats him roughly on the shoulder before continuing down the
hall. “You’re a good kid, Tim. Try not to fight with him for a bit.”
 
 
By the time he makes it back to the garage, Damian is standing beside his
motorcycle, already looking a bit healthier. The color’s coming back into his
skin and he looks ten times more alert than he has in the past three days. 
“Thought I told you to stay with Alfred?” 
Damian tilts his head and narrows his eyes, as if trying to figure something
out. After a moment he seems to give up analyzing Jason in favor of tossing him
a small bag. “Pennyworth told me to give this to you.” 
Jason shoots him a look before unzipping it, finding a good wad of cash and a
prepaid phone. He laughs and turns the phone over in his hands a few times,
then pops the back off and extracts the tracking device, flicking it back in
the boy’s direction. 
“Good ol’ Alfie, always looking after his boys.” 
And yet Damian has yet to leave, has yet to look away from his face with
something like new found respect and confusion. Opens his mouth to say
something before snapping it closed and watching him intently. 
“I don’t need a sidekick, so run along.” 
Damian’s expression turns haughty instantly and he cocks an eyebrow. “Perhaps
not, but it’s come to my attention that my mentor is lacking, and I require
nothing but the best.  I… do not find your methods of justice all that
detestable as the others do, and you could benefit from a second set of eyes
and hands.” 
Jason just smirks and shoves his helmet on, swinging his leg over his bike as
it roars to life. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”
Chapter End Notes
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