Leave it to Jason to do the one thing that Bruce least expected from his wayward son. The kiss was so gentle and tender and full of misplaced longing, and Bruce understood it so very well. These moments of trauma ultimately brought him closer to Jason whether or not he wanted them to. He let the brush of lips happen, content to have Jason smear blood all over his face if that's all it took to get what he desired.
The rumble of a groan left his lips as Jason pulled away, understanding why but ultimately disappointed as well. Anyway, Bruce already had a syringe in hand, easing it into Jason's thigh where the medicine would slide through his veins and ease him into a worry-free sleep.
"I'll be here," he said, his own free hand cupping Jason's cheek. "The entire time."
Bruce waited until Jason knocked out before he started on the leg, the fingers, undressing Jason efficiently so he could get to every single bruise and scab. Leg first, then he'd worry about the rest.
Their relationship had never been particularly stable or healthy. Jason had been a feisty, scrappy little thing with far too much life experience for someone so young. He'd demanded an emotional connection that Bruce either hadn't been willing to give him...or hadn't been able. Dying and then coming back-coming home hadn't changed that. Not really.
They came together as they always had, needy and desperate. Each craving something that the other could almost offer. They'd lose themselves in each other's bodies and for a few short hours things were good. But then the Mission would continue and Jason would wake up alone to reports of Batman arriving on the scene of some petty crime halfway across the city and the cycle would start all over again.
But this time was different, right? Bruce had saved him. Had grappled across the city to pull him from a building that was going to slowly crush him to death. Bruce had chosen him, right?
Right?
He woke up slowly, his body heavy and sluggish with pain medication. It was just enough to knock off the edge and Jason groaned as he carefully started to process his injuries. His hands were bandaged, but not bound. His head hurt, but not badly enough for a concussion. Mostly, it was just his leg, which was reset and splinted all the way up to his hip. It was propped up on a pillow and half melted ice packs ran along either side.
He wasn't surprised that he was only in his underwear. Nor was he surprised to find himself staring at a familiar ceiling when he finally blinked open his eyes.
When Bruce heard his name, he moved from where he was wringing a wet towel out in the en suite. He'd removed his uniform and was only in a pair of lounge pants at the moment, his broad chest full of fresh scars and old wounds, some of them caused by the very person he was currently coming to check on. Jason was a hell of a shot and even better with a knife.
"I'm right here, Jason," Bruce said, his voice low with promise as he approached the bed and looked down at the state of Jason. "How are you feeling?"
Marks for marks, scars for scars. They'd each carved themselves into the other's skin, Bruce with a batarang to Jason's throat, Jason with blades and his guns.
He watched Bruce come towards him, his gaze flicking to that broad, marked up chest repeatedly. He hurt and he was drugged and he was exhausted, but Bruce had always been able to side step all of that. The man was beautiful. Powerful and commanding in a way that both set every instinct in Jason on edge and laid them out to relax at the same time.
Like cuddling up to a purring big cat.
"Like I was crushed by my own building. How bad is my leg?"
"You won't be able to walk on it for a while," he said, plainly, not missing the slow, lazy drag of Jason's gaze over his body. He knew what he looked like and exactly how vulnerable Jason was, and he wasn't above using those things to get what he wanted from Jason in particular. "But it will heal. I reset the bone, so it will be slow going."
Bruce took a seat on the edge of the bed beside Jason, his hips brushing Jason's almost casually. Almost like an accident. And when he reached out, it was to get Jason's pulse and feel for his fever, not just to linger and touch him again.
"I don't know yet who was beyond the explosions, but I'm close," he said. "I'll find them."
The news, as dramatic and serious as it was, didn't really come as a surprise. One didn't survive a building collapse without something to show for it. And if anyone other than a doctor was going to reset his leg, Bruce was the next best option. The man had probably spent at least an hour meticulously ultrasounding his leg to make sure that each and every piece was back where it belonged. More importantly, if Bruce thought that Jason needed an actual surgeon, he wouldn't have hesitated to stage an excuse and he would have woken up in the hospital, not Bruce's bedroom.
He closed his eyes when Bruce sat next to him, soaking in the warmth of him. His hip against his own, his hands on his face.... To the casual observer, it would be almost clinical, but Jason knew better. He had known this man and his tastes for most of his life, after all. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned into the touch, brushing his lips against that large, calloused palm.
"Sionis or Dent. They're the only ones with the resources to know that I got that building. Maybe a few small time gangs I've been picking apart. Whoever did it thought it was empty, so they did it to send a message.
Stop. Just...stop. I'm too tired for this song and dance and you...you pulled me outta there and just fucking lay down and let me pretend I'm 14 again, okay? Let me pretend we're still us and I'm allowed to be comforted by your heartbeat again."
Bruce stopped, pulling his hands back and looking Jason over. He hadn't anticipated that Jason would be this eager for him, that he'd nearly be begging for Bruce to touch him. And the reminder of what they'd done when Jason was much, much younger didn't go unnoticed either.
"What is it that you're asking from me?" Bruce asked, his voice quiet enough to exist just between them. He wasn't sure if he was capable of holding Jason without making it something more, no matter the injuries.
"Fucking hell..." He scrubbed at his face with one bandaged hand, irritation creeping back up along his spine. "I hurt, I'm drugged and you just saved my life. Can you not overthink everything for one night and let me be okay with you holding me? And if that means fucking me, then fine. Help me roll over and prop up my leg so you don't jostle it too much. Or I could suck you off like I used to do. If...If you'd want that."
The last bit came out a little unsure. It was an offer he hadn't made since they'd started seeing each other again, too angry to trust himself and well aware that a layer of violence was expected between them. But if Bruce choking him on his cock got the man to lay the fuck down...well, it wouldn't be the first time.
"All I've ever fucking wanted was to feel like you loved me enough to chose me over your damned mission for one fucking night and it finally happens and you're making me talk about it. Fucking rude, B."
If Jason actually thought Bruce had given up on the mission for an entire night, he certainly had another think coming and it would be a terrible wake-up call that Bruce was a zebra who never changed his stripes. He was practically incapable of it. His mind always a thousand miles away and a thousand miles ahead, never allowing himself the chance to just exist and be vulnerable with someone he cared for.
He hummed in thought, already imagining this was not going to end well, but then again, it never did. So he eased onto the bed beside Jason, taking up more space than any human man should be capable of, and turning Jason carefully onto his side with his leg still propped up. No matter what they did, Jason had to keep it elevated and still to heal and the one thing Bruce wouldn't do was compromise Jason's future health for a fuck.
"Come here then," he said, knowing full well Jason couldn't exactly 'come here' like normal and that Bruce had to be the one to slide his hands around his waist and haul him close. Bruce's front to Jason's back, he put his body flush against Jason's, half-hard just from the sight of Jason if he was honest but just letting them both get situated first. One massive arm around Jason's middle, the other smoothing his hair out of his face. "I've got you."
Nothing they ever did ended well. The closest they'd ever come had been before, because Jason had come to Bruce already familiar with sex and the knowledge that pain came with it. Bruce hadn't needed to watch him from afar until his needs outgrew his caution because Jason had come to the Manor expecting to be taken to Bruce's bed.
It was what he was good at. What he'd been doing to survive. Why the hell would Bruce Wayne keep him around if he wasn't warming his bed? It wasn't until he'd become Robin that Bruce had actually taken his offer seriously, but those early years? Just the two of them? It had been good. Yeah, it hurt, but it was a good hurt and it was different if Bruce was the one hurting him. It was different if Bruce was the one doing a lot of things to him. Bruce loved him.
It was why he'd taken the accusations of pushing Garzonas so personally. No. It was why he'd taken Bruce being so angry about Garzonas' death so personally. He hadn't pushed the man, but he wasn't sad to see him dead and...and it drove a wedge between them that had only gotten wider.
But for tonight, he wanted that wedge gone. Tonight, he wanted to curl up against Bruce's chest and pretend like their lives had gone a different direction. Pretend that they could have this, for just a few hours.
It hurt to roll onto his side, but with Bruce's strong hands to help him, he went easily. Having the broad warmth of Bruce's chest against his back was soothing and he sighed softly as he shifted back, threading the bandaged fingers of one hand into the hand that draped across his hips. The other got a small, almost shy brush of his lips before he closed his eyes and let himself relax back into that hold.
"You know how much it drives me crazy when you call me that," Bruce purred, dragging his lips along the back of Jason's neck, his collar bones, his shoulder. "It's been a long time." A long time since they'd been together like this, longer since Jason had really wanted it as much as Bruce did. Or maybe that wasn't true, as Bruce knew his want of his son was more than anyone should want another person.
If he had it his way, he'd keep Jason locked up for his own entertainment only. To be used at his whims, loved so deeply that no one else could ever see.
"Tell me if it's too much." And that wasn't exactly because he was worried about Jason getting hurt (or not just because, anyway) but more because he liked being the one to both hurt and heal him.
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..."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The rumble of a groan left his lips as Jason pulled away, understanding why but ultimately disappointed as well. Anyway, Bruce already had a syringe in hand, easing it into Jason's thigh where the medicine would slide through his veins and ease him into a worry-free sleep.
"I'll be here," he said, his own free hand cupping Jason's cheek. "The entire time."
Bruce waited until Jason knocked out before he started on the leg, the fingers, undressing Jason efficiently so he could get to every single bruise and scab. Leg first, then he'd worry about the rest.
no subject
They came together as they always had, needy and desperate. Each craving something that the other could almost offer. They'd lose themselves in each other's bodies and for a few short hours things were good. But then the Mission would continue and Jason would wake up alone to reports of Batman arriving on the scene of some petty crime halfway across the city and the cycle would start all over again.
But this time was different, right? Bruce had saved him. Had grappled across the city to pull him from a building that was going to slowly crush him to death. Bruce had chosen him, right?
Right?
He woke up slowly, his body heavy and sluggish with pain medication. It was just enough to knock off the edge and Jason groaned as he carefully started to process his injuries. His hands were bandaged, but not bound. His head hurt, but not badly enough for a concussion. Mostly, it was just his leg, which was reset and splinted all the way up to his hip. It was propped up on a pillow and half melted ice packs ran along either side.
He wasn't surprised that he was only in his underwear. Nor was he surprised to find himself staring at a familiar ceiling when he finally blinked open his eyes.
"B-Bruce?"
no subject
"I'm right here, Jason," Bruce said, his voice low with promise as he approached the bed and looked down at the state of Jason. "How are you feeling?"
no subject
He watched Bruce come towards him, his gaze flicking to that broad, marked up chest repeatedly. He hurt and he was drugged and he was exhausted, but Bruce had always been able to side step all of that. The man was beautiful. Powerful and commanding in a way that both set every instinct in Jason on edge and laid them out to relax at the same time.
Like cuddling up to a purring big cat.
"Like I was crushed by my own building. How bad is my leg?"
no subject
Bruce took a seat on the edge of the bed beside Jason, his hips brushing Jason's almost casually. Almost like an accident. And when he reached out, it was to get Jason's pulse and feel for his fever, not just to linger and touch him again.
"I don't know yet who was beyond the explosions, but I'm close," he said. "I'll find them."
no subject
He closed his eyes when Bruce sat next to him, soaking in the warmth of him. His hip against his own, his hands on his face.... To the casual observer, it would be almost clinical, but Jason knew better. He had known this man and his tastes for most of his life, after all. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned into the touch, brushing his lips against that large, calloused palm.
"Sionis or Dent. They're the only ones with the resources to know that I got that building. Maybe a few small time gangs I've been picking apart. Whoever did it thought it was empty, so they did it to send a message.
Stop. Just...stop. I'm too tired for this song and dance and you...you pulled me outta there and just fucking lay down and let me pretend I'm 14 again, okay? Let me pretend we're still us and I'm allowed to be comforted by your heartbeat again."
no subject
"What is it that you're asking from me?" Bruce asked, his voice quiet enough to exist just between them. He wasn't sure if he was capable of holding Jason without making it something more, no matter the injuries.
no subject
The last bit came out a little unsure. It was an offer he hadn't made since they'd started seeing each other again, too angry to trust himself and well aware that a layer of violence was expected between them. But if Bruce choking him on his cock got the man to lay the fuck down...well, it wouldn't be the first time.
"All I've ever fucking wanted was to feel like you loved me enough to chose me over your damned mission for one fucking night and it finally happens and you're making me talk about it. Fucking rude, B."
no subject
He hummed in thought, already imagining this was not going to end well, but then again, it never did. So he eased onto the bed beside Jason, taking up more space than any human man should be capable of, and turning Jason carefully onto his side with his leg still propped up. No matter what they did, Jason had to keep it elevated and still to heal and the one thing Bruce wouldn't do was compromise Jason's future health for a fuck.
"Come here then," he said, knowing full well Jason couldn't exactly 'come here' like normal and that Bruce had to be the one to slide his hands around his waist and haul him close. Bruce's front to Jason's back, he put his body flush against Jason's, half-hard just from the sight of Jason if he was honest but just letting them both get situated first. One massive arm around Jason's middle, the other smoothing his hair out of his face. "I've got you."
no subject
It was what he was good at. What he'd been doing to survive. Why the hell would Bruce Wayne keep him around if he wasn't warming his bed? It wasn't until he'd become Robin that Bruce had actually taken his offer seriously, but those early years? Just the two of them? It had been good. Yeah, it hurt, but it was a good hurt and it was different if Bruce was the one hurting him. It was different if Bruce was the one doing a lot of things to him. Bruce loved him.
It was why he'd taken the accusations of pushing Garzonas so personally. No. It was why he'd taken Bruce being so angry about Garzonas' death so personally. He hadn't pushed the man, but he wasn't sad to see him dead and...and it drove a wedge between them that had only gotten wider.
But for tonight, he wanted that wedge gone. Tonight, he wanted to curl up against Bruce's chest and pretend like their lives had gone a different direction. Pretend that they could have this, for just a few hours.
It hurt to roll onto his side, but with Bruce's strong hands to help him, he went easily. Having the broad warmth of Bruce's chest against his back was soothing and he sighed softly as he shifted back, threading the bandaged fingers of one hand into the hand that draped across his hips. The other got a small, almost shy brush of his lips before he closed his eyes and let himself relax back into that hold.
"I know you do. I know, dad."
no subject
If he had it his way, he'd keep Jason locked up for his own entertainment only. To be used at his whims, loved so deeply that no one else could ever see.
"Tell me if it's too much." And that wasn't exactly because he was worried about Jason getting hurt (or not just because, anyway) but more because he liked being the one to both hurt and heal him.
no subject
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..."