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Batman smiles.
Of all the evidence that Jason had been tossed into the relatively recent past, this was the most convincing. Not the big, teased hair, not the shoulder pads and over-sized coats.
Just Batman’s genuine smile.
“Thanks for the help,” Batman says so very brightly that Jason just blinks at him, gaping.
“You’re a really good fighter,” the older, no... younger man?—Is this version of Bruce still older than him at least?—adds when Jason just stares. “Where’d you study?”
The fact that Bruce hasn’t grabbed him by the throat, pinned him to the wall, and snarled at him demanding Jason identify himself is... wild. This whole thing is really throwing Jason off his game.
“I uh... I mean, I had a... private tutor?” It sounds more like a question, even to his own ears. But how does he simply and clearly describe his complicated relationship with the older version of this man. Private tutor covers it. Not to mention that it covers all the other, less than savory, mentors Jason’s had over the years on his quest for a vengeance he no longer needs.
Bruce hums and cocks his head. “Your tutor taught you some... extremely specialized moves.”
Jason mentally replays the fight in his mind. He’s been trained since he was 12 in the world’s most intensive combat internship. His body just moves. Muscle memory and all.
Shit.
“Yeah. He had a very special teacher.” Best to stick with the truth where he can. Keep it vague. The way Bruce is. Neither of them are going to mention Kirigi but they both know that’s who they’re talking about.
“Night’s over. Cops are on the way.“ Batman makes an obvious show of looking Jason up and down before jerking a thumb back to what Jason recognizes as the very first Batmobile. Little more than a black, customized Lamborghini. “Want to spar?”
Is Bruce really offering to take him back to the cave for a spar five minutes and one little scuffle with some low-level Falcone thugs after meeting him?
“You’re... pretty trusting...” Jason says, confusion and skepticism thick in his voice as it trails off.
Batman shrugs. “You didn’t have to help me with these guys,” he says, waving a hand down at the unconscious men. “You could have kept walking like everyone else.”
Jason just blinks at him again, kind of wishing he had his own hood so that he could hide his obvious disbelief.
“Besides,” Bruce adds with a smirk as he turns back to the car. “Easier to keep an eye on you in a contained environment rather than having you running free in the city.”
The city. Not my city.
This is just so fucking weird.
And it just gets weirder as Bruce keeps up a steady stream of small talk the entire drive back to the cave.
He’s really not used to anything but tense, awkward silence from Bruce.
“How long have you been doing this?” He finally asked as they pull into the cave. The road is still carved stone. Not the reinforced, high tech ramps that he’s used to.
“I’ve only been back in Gotham about... oh, six months or so,” Bruce responds, parking the car on the platform in front of an outdated version of the Batcomputer. “Before that I was training.”
Nodding, Jason crawls out of the car. That means Bruce isn’t far off from acquiring the first orphan in his collection.
He hesitates on the steps up to the training area. Would... would Dick want him to intervene? Can he even do that?
Jason’s always had a blanket policy, ever since he discovered time travel was real (because of fucking course it is) of not interfering in the past. But now that he’s here...
Can he save Dick’s parents? Maybe he can sneak into Willis and Catherine’s apartment and burn his own birth certificate so that he never goes looking for his bio mom. If he never dies, Tim never becomes Robin, never loses all his friends. But does Jason have the heart to take Robin from Tim now that he knows how much it meant to him? Is Damian born yet? Should he mention that to Bruce?
Mercifully, Bruce interrupts his spiral. “Hey kid, you want to fight or what?”
Snorting, Jason takes the steps two at a time until he’s in the training area. He takes off his jacket, eyeing Bruce as he removes his belt.
Bruce is obviously full grown so he is still a couple inches taller than Jason. But he’s not the bulky, monster of a man that Jason grew up with. Not the growly, barrel-chested beast he is now. He’s lean and limber, moves a little more fluidly. Less the brawler he has become and more... well, more like Dick.
Jason feels a sudden pang of jealousy that he never got to know this Bruce. As well as the sudden flair of something he’s been trying to stomp out for several years now.
“Who you callin’ kid, we’ve gotta be practically the same age,” he teases.
“You’re what? 19? Maybe 20?” Bruce says. “I’ve got a few years on you then. And more experience.”
Jason is just about to snort again, point out that, nah, if Bruce is only 22 or 23 then for once the tables have turned and Jason is definitely the one with the most experience.
But he just ends up sputtering because protect-your-identity-at-all-costs Batman just turned around, cowl removed, smiling something bright and charming and sincere in a way Jason hasn’t seen since he was fresh off the streets.
“Uh... you’re... you’re showing me your face?”
“You’re showing yours,” Bruce counters and bounces around on the balls of his feet, shaking out his arms. “It’s only fair.”
“Yeah but... I’m a nobody. You’re Bruce Wayne.”
“Sure. But I suspect you already knew that.”
Jason starts. “W-what—“
“You haven’t been nearly as surprised by anything as you should have been.” And he sounds so unconcerned it’s blowing Jason’s mind. The Bruce he knows would have locked him up already and be in the middle of a... enthusiastic interrogation.
“Reports of an energy surge in Crime Alley, preceding what appeared to be a rip in the air and suddenly some amusingly dressed man is helping me fight the mob using moves only a few people know?”
Bruce gives him a smug smile. “Don’t have to be as smart as I am to surmise you’re from the future.”
Jason has a lot to say to that. To all this really.
But he’s a little distracted by just how handsome Bruce is.
Trying not to blush, Jason stretches a bit. He pointedly looks away as Bruce does the same.
The puppy crush he had as a kid comes rushing back to him. Bruce has always been hot. Even now, more scarred and rugged, Jason occasionally sneaks glances. In fact, if someone forced him to choose, Jason would probably lean toward older, starting-to-get-gray hairs, Bruce.
But there is no denying that smooth, youthful face and warm, friendly gaze—free of all the frown lines and cold eyes—is stunning.
He’s so beautiful, Jason would almost buy that Dick was Bruce’s biological son.
“Alright. Let’s do this.” Bruce says. He’s stripped out of the Batsuit while Jason was lost in his thought. Black tank top and very snug compression pants make Jason’s throat go dry. Every curve of muscle—hell, even Bruce’s nipples—are on clear display.
Jason squares up. They circle each other. Then the clash.
It so weird. Bruce doesn’t hit nearly as hard as Jason is used to but he moves faster to make up for it.
It’s so different that when Jason adjust for it, it’s a lot closer for how he’d fight Dick than Bruce.
About three minutes in, Jason offers Bruce his own arrogant smirk and gets a frustrated frown in return.
They both know Jason’s going to win. This Bruce hasn’t spent years honing his craft, tweaking and perfecting his style into the most skilled martial artist in the world. This Bruce is too inexperienced.
And Jason spent years being trained by the perfect version. Not to mention his own version of Bruce’s training journey.
Finally, Jason drops Bruce to the ground, pinning his thighs to the mats with his own, stronger legs, and securing Bruce’s forearms up by his ears in Jason’s own iron grip.
They’re both breathing heavily, Bruce wriggling every few seconds, trying to loop his legs up around Jason’s waist to throw him off.
After a several unproductive attempts, Bruce sags into the floor.
“You’re very good,” he pants. “Who’d you say taught you again?”
Jason’s laugh comes out breathy and he tries to convince himself it’s because of the exertion. But he’s all too aware of the blood rushing south and the growing urgency that he get up and turn away.
“I didn’t,” he grins.
They’re so close he can feel Bruce’s breath puff across the sweat-damp skin of his face. Jason feels huge, towering over the other man. Bruce may still be a couple inches taller but Jason definitely outclasses him in muscle mass. His mentor’s wrists feel almost small and delicate in his grip.
“You’re still on top of me,” Bruce says softly. His bright blue eyes look more heavily lidded then usual and there’s something... heated in his smile.
Suddenly the coolness of the stone cave disappears and it feels like a furnace.
Heat flushes from the tips of his ears down to his chest.
“Uh... sorry,” he mumbles, shifting to rise.
The moment his weight shifts off of Bruce's thighs, the man flings his legs up, hooking them around Jason's body, just below his ass. The second Bruce's wrists are free, his hands snag Jason's.
Swallowing hard, Jason meets those playful blue eyes and his heart skips a beat. Young Bruce is so... innocent.
At least until he smiles something sharp and predatory. Then he looks like the serpent in the garden, tempting Jason to sin.
"You don't have to be sorry," Bruce says, grin widening. "You don't have to get up either."
As if his words needed clarification, Bruce gives a teasing roll of his hips.
Jason sucks in a breath and closes his eyes. This can't fucking be real, can it? He knew Brucie's persona was a fast moving charmer but this is in private no cameras around.
Except the ones in the cave.
The thought is sudden and makes heat pool in his belly.
Wonders if Bruce would keep the footage. If, when he gets home, it'll be there in B's personal archives waiting to be dusted off and used for... well, screwing with Bruce at least. Blackmail if Bruce pushes him that far.
"You don't want to know my name first?"
"Probably better this way. Best not to know too much," Bruce says, then squints at and looks over his face again.
Something happens then, that Jason has never seen in his life and he will treasure the memory until he dies. Again.
Bruce's face turns bright pink. Bruce is blushing. "Unless... um... unless your name is Wayne..."
Jason's laugh starts out silent and ends up quick little huffs. Memories of the times he doodled Jason Wayne on notebooks when he was a kid. Staring at the words, trying to decide if he wanted Bruce to adopt him or marry him.
"No," he giggles. "Not a Wayne."
Tension floods out of Bruce's muscles and the sharp smile returns.
For just a moment anyway. Then Bruce surges up and kisses him.
And fuck if it isn't everything Jason had ever dreamed it would be.
Bruce's lips are soft, tongue insistent, mouth warm and velvety as Jason kisses back.
Using his legs and grip on Jason's wrists, Bruce tugs him closer.
They make out for a long minute, lazily exploring each other's mouths. Until Jason feels a hand cup his groin when Bruce decides he wants to explore elsewhere too.
Jason groans when the heel of Bruce's hand presses down, grinding into his cock. He tips his head forward to rest on Bruce's chest and wonders briefly if he'll break his sternum.
He's just so much smaller than normal.
Bruce kisses him again, releases his wrists, but keeps him pinned with those strong legs. Jason's brain stutters when Bruce strips off his tank top and reaches for Jason's.
It feels like Jason blinks and they're naked. Being relieved of his clothing is a blur of Bruce chuckling as Jason immediately attaches his lips to one of Bruce's hardened nipples and gently tugs on it with his teeth the way he's always wanted too. The fact that Bruce's chest is smaller than normal doesn't deter him at all.
But abruptly he's naked and Bruce is naked and Jason's cock, hard and already weeping precome, is sliding against Bruce's equally interested dick.
Throwing a hand back over his head, Bruce scrambles for his belt until Jason grabs it, goes straight to the correct pouch, and fishes out the lube.
The way Bruce is smirking up at him is insufferably smug. "I take it we've done this before then?"
Snorting, Jason quickly slicks up his cock. "No. I've... always wanted to but... there were, uh, extenuating circumstances."
Bruce narrows his eyes and tilts his head, but his smile doesn't waver. "I won't ask for details," he says, quirky his hips up, making Jason choke a little when Bruce's hot, hard, length rubs against his own. "There aren't many people who can beat me hand to hand and even fewer who look like you, so... no looking gift horses in the mouth."
Jason almost fucking whines at that. To cover up the little sound that does escape, he presses a lubed up finger to Bruce's hole, circling the furled muscle, before starting to push the digit in.
He hesitates. This is... not actually how he ever expected this to go. He always pictured them... reversed.
"Is this... I mean... would you rather--"
Chuckling again, Bruce squeezes his legs, pulling Jason even closer. "This is good." Those blue eyes go dark and ravenous and Jason feels like a rabbit caught in a snare. "I can do you later."
A gentle touch caresses over the scars on Jason's back. His brain stutters again and by the time he has refocused he's two fingers in, Bruce humming his approval.
"That's it," Bruce says breathlessly, back arching as he bites his lip. And fuck, he's so damn gorgeous Jason could cry. "Spread them out--ah! yes... another..."
For once, Jason is happy to follow Bruce's orders. This whole situation is extremely overwhelming and Bruce's voice, not quite as deep as it will be, nor as gravely, is grounding and steadying.
He is tight and perfect and Jason could spend all night just fingering him. Especially once he finds that special spot that makes Bruce's toes curl and his head fall back, a moan slipping out from between perfect parted lips.
But Bruce has other plans.
He pulls Jason to him, licking into his mouth. Jason hums happily and returns the passionate kiss.
Suddenly Bruce's hand is on his cock again, guiding it to where Jason's fingers open him up.
Bruce pulls back just far enough to whisper, "Ready when you are," breath puffing into Jason's mouth.
They did enough prep that Jason slides into Bruce's tight, wet heat easily.
Almost immediately, Jason has to pause to center himself. Otherwise he'll finish way too early.
The pace he sets is deep and lazy. Bruce feels so fragile beneath him and Jason doesn't want to hurt him. It'd be like kicking a puppy.
But again, Bruce has other ideas.
Muffling a shocked gasp, Jason instinctively holds on tight when Bruce shifts, hooking one foot around one of Jason's legs so that his toes brush against Jason's balls. He effortlessly throws the other leg over Jason's shoulder in a move worthy of Dick's coveted "most flexible" title. A move Jason knows Bruce can't pull off these days.
Then Bruce uses his new leverage to bodily haul Jason's bulk up and down at the more intense speed he wants.
Jason is so stunned he spends the first moments gawking at the fact that Bruce is essentially using him as the world's most complicated dildo.
Then he wonders why he's even remotely surprised, rolls his eyes, and starts leaning into the motions.
If he had his way, Jason would have lasted quite a bit longer. This is likely the only time he'll have this and ideally he'd savor it for a bit.
As it is, he finishes embarrassingly quick. It's just... been a while since he's been with someone. Let alone Bruce.
Right before he's about to come, Bruce's legs tighten around him and, with one of those infuriating smirks, he flips them so that he's on top and Jason's head smacks into the mats just hard enough to stave off his orgasm for another minute.
"Rude to finish before me," Bruce huffs down at him as he starts to ride Jason hard and fast, pinning his wrists to the floor the way Jason had to win the fight.
Well. That's fair. All things considered.
Jason reaches for Bruce's cock bouncing untouched between them. He needs to get the other man off ASAP because there's no way Jason can hold off for much longer. Only, his hand gets slapped away before his fingers so much as graze the thing.
He watches, mesmerized, as Bruce grins and starts pumping his fist up and down his own cock, blue eyes locked on Jason's.
After just another minute, Bruce's pretty mouth falls open and he gasps. Hot, sticky ropes of cum spurt out, streaking Jason's abs and and chest with white.
The sight absolutely ends him. Bruce's hold on his wrists weakens after his release and Jason grabs onto the other man's hips, pulling him down to meet each of the final thrusts up.
Bruce stays in Jason's lap, panting for air, hands travelling up Jason's body to rub come into his nipples, as Jason fills him up.
Quiet falls over the cave as they both catch their breath.
Then Bruce leans forward, pecks a chaste kiss to Jason's lips, then pats his cheek.
"That was fun," he says, sounding a lot more put together than Jason feels. "Let me recover and I will return the favor."
Jason shivers at the thought. God, he wants it so badly.
So of course he disappears before it can happen.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Jason flinches.
There's the deep gravel he knows so well.
He turns and gives Bruce--his Bruce; older Bruce; huge Bruce--a shit eating grin. He had closed out of the file when he heard footsteps so he feels pretty confident that Bruce didn't see anything... incriminating.
"Nothin' boss. Swear."
Bruce half hums, half growls as he approaches. Jason both misses the way he was so much bigger than Bruce and has missed the way Bruce somehow manages to dwarf him now.
The older man doesn't stop until he's only half a foot away.
Suddenly a flash drive is in Jason's face and he can't help but gulp.
"Looking for this?" Bruce rumbles.
Jesus, how does he smell exactly the same?
Jason's heart is pounding in his chest so loudly he thinks Bruce might be able to hear it. Either that or the deafening sound of blood rushing through his veins.
"Depends on what that is," Jason hedges. He is not admitting anything until Bruce calls him out.
Bruce takes a step forward, then another, forcing Jason back until he's pressed against the console. Jason knows his eyes are wide as saucers. He's holding his breath and trying to focus on anything other than how dry his lips suddenly are.
"I've been waiting for you to come for it. Ever since you returned. When I recognized you."
Jason can't help it anymore. He swipes his tongue across his lips as quickly as he can. But he doesn't miss the way Bruce's blue eyes dart down to follow the motion.
The flash drive disappears and suddenly Bruce's hand is at his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.
Jason fucking leans into it.
Bruce presses forward even more, until his body is all but plastered to Jason's.
And, peering up at his mentor, Jason feels so damn small.
"It will be very different this time," Bruce purrs, moving his thumb up a bit to shove Jason's chin to the side so he nip at the sensitive flesh just below Jason's ear. "After all, I have a very old promise to keep."
Shuddering as Bruce manhandles him, Jason still hardly dares to believe this is anything but a dream.