The irony was that it would have been so easy for Jason to have ended up exactly that. Bruce Wayne's personal play toy, kept away from the world save for when Bruce wanted to show him off. That was exactly what he'd been expecting all those years ago when Batman had dropped him off at Wayne manor and Alfred had bustled him away to shove him in a bathtub while the butler made him food.

It had been being Robin that had given him enough sense of purpose that he'd looked away from that life of pampered play thing. He could help people. He did help people. And he was good at it. It was why he hadn't left Gotham when he'd decided to stop trying to kill Bruce and Tim. He was useful, a symbol to people that even Batman couldn't really touch.

Lips roamed his skin and Jason shivered and bowed his head to offer more space to be explored. His own body was sluggish, blood loss and shock keeping his cock soft and still in his underwear, but that didn't stop him from basking in the attention being offered.

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you slit someone's throat. They stop being so easy." But for as harsh as his words could have been, his tone carried almost no heat at all. In fact, he arched his back a little, the hand laced with Bruce's guiding the larger man's up to his chest. His nipples had always been sensitive and their years of separation had only made them more so.

"It's okay, daddy. You can hurt me a little bit. I can take it..."