Work Text:
Midnighter is pleasantly buzzed.
He can’t get totally sloshed, not easily — he has the experiments to thank for that. He can put away a lot of drinks before he starts getting sloppy.
Makes him an expensive date, though.
The bar itself is a shithole, tiny and tucked away below street-level in downtown Gotham. The fake leather on the stools and booths are flaking, the wood on the bar stained and worn away. The bottles themselves are overwhelmingly unlabeled, and Midnighter is sure there’s some homemade booze behind the bar that he could get if he asked nicely. There aren’t any windows, and with it's rainbow christmas lights strung throughout the place is downright cozy. The low lighting is probably intentional given how sticky the tables are, but Midnighter doesn’t mind. The place had been Dick’s pick, chosen for proximity to his apartment and a tendency for heavy pours.
And it’s a crowd for heavy pours.
Hal is at the bar, trying to goad Dinah into laughing at some truly awful joke. Oliver Queen is playing some variation on darts with Kyle Rayner. Wally West and one of Superman’s kids are lounging in a booth with Roy Harper, who’s nursing a sprite. The bar is heavy with superheroes, but everyone’s dressed down, conscious of those among them that still have identities to hide.
Bruce hadn’t been invited. “I’m not going to drink with my dad.” Dick had complained earlier that night, hammering out a text to one of the (apparently many) vigilante group chats.
They didn’t usually party after team-ups, but they’d come out of this one with no serious injuries and an apparent excess of energy. When Spoiler had suggested going dancing Dick had nodded, and somehow that had turned into a dive bar with a shitty sound system. Still, it didn’t stop her. She was singing along with some top-40 pop that she’d talked the bartender into putting on, dancing with a black-haired girl that was apparently Batgirl.
Midnighter leans back in the corner booth he’s parked himself in, taking a slow sip of his drink. In a normal life he could probably be an alcoholic. For now, he can enjoy himself.
The bar door swings open, and Midnighter gets a brief glimpse of the pouring rain outside before it slams shut again, a man ducking inside. The guy’s hair is wet, plastered to his face, and he shoves it out of his eyes. There’s a distinct white streak in it. The man takes off his soaked leather jacket and dumps it onto a stool in front of him. Broad shoulders, thick thighs, a trim waist. Definitely part of their crowd, if his body and stance are anything to go by.
He glances over at Midnighter with familiar bright blue eyes. He stills.
Robin.
“Jason!” Dick has a long island iced tea in one hand, the other opening up to hug the new arrival.
“Hey.” Jason says, sliding into the hug. The hug is brief but intimate — Midnighter notices the way Jason fists his hand into the back of Dick’s shirt.
Jason steals a last glance in Midnighter’s direction before letting Dick pull him into the mess of bodies. Their eyes lock. Midnighter takes a sip of his drink.
Midnighter found out about Robin’s resurrection shortly after he found out that Nightwing is Dick Grayson.
He was working with the Bats more and more, and the Justice League was inviting him out more often — the annoying Lantern he’d met (Hal, he’d introduced himself as much later), ended up giving him a tour of the Watchtower.
It’s harder for hero-types to trust Midnighter with their identity. Normally there’d be some level of exchange there, and within that exchange an inherent safety. Nobody wants to compromised anyone else’s identity, because they don’t want their own compromised. Midnighter doesn’t have that sort of collateral.
So it takes a little longer for Midnighter. It takes a few near-death experiences before Dick takes off his mask, and by extension, that of his family.
And once Midnighter knows who Batman is, the rest of the Justice League seems a lot more comfortable.
When Midnighter asks Dick why former-bag-of-heads Red Hood is wearing a bat on his chest, Dick grins.
“Oh, him?” He says. “That’s my baby brother.”
The pieces come together after that, but Midnighter wasn’t really sure he believed it.
Not until now.
Midnighter ends up absolutely trouncing Hal in pool midway through the night, laughing as Hal pleads for one more game, pocketing the 20 that Hal had bet him.
“Come on, man,” Hal says, trying to keep a straight face, biting back his own laughter. “I can do it this time, I swear.”
“You sunk the eight-ball.”
“I’m dyslexic. I thought it was the seven.”
“Jesus Hal, let the man take a break.” Ollie says.
Hal rounds on Ollie. “Play me in darts.”
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
Midnighter slips past the two of them, goes back to the bar to get a refill on his drink. Dick had slapped down Bruce Wayne’s black card when he’d entered the bar, so drinks were on Batman tonight.
Jason is at the bar with an empty glass. His bright blue eyes are immediately trained on Midnighter. It’s fucking unnerving the way the kid stares.
Midnighter slides up to the bar next to him. “Buy you a drink?” He teases.
“My brother’s buying.” Jason says automatically, his face a little pink. Either drunk or blushing. He has to tilt his chin up a bit to keep looking Midnighter in the eyes as he steps in next to him.
“Humor me.”
Jason studies him for a moment. “Jack and coke.” He says finally.
Midnighter flags down the bartender easily, orders their free drinks for both of them— the jack and coke for Jason, a whiskey neat for himself. Jason isn’t staring anymore. He’s looking down at his hands.
“It’s been a while.” Midnighter says.
“I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“I remember a lot, Robin.”
“I’m not Robin anymore.” He says.
“I suppose not.” Midnighter says. “You grew up.”
Jason looks back up at Midnighter, all that intensity focused on him again. “Yeah.” He says. “I did.”
Midnighter can't tell if Jason’s flirting with him or if he’s being threatened. When the bartender comes back with their drinks, Midnighter doesn’t look away from Jason when he takes them from her hands.
“There you go.” He says, handing Jason his drink.
“Thanks.” Jason says. He licks his lips.
Flirting, then.
Interesting.
It’s strange to overlay the image of the man in front of him onto the traumatized child he had carried through a battlefield. Those blue eyes are the same, but they’re colder now.
Jason takes a sip of his drink. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.” He says. “About some of the shit I said when we met.”
Midnighter shakes his head. “You were a kid.”
“I was an asshole.”
“Yeah, well, kids can be assholes. I didn’t take it personally.”
“I thought about what you said a lot.”
“You’ll need to be more specific.”
“About killing.” Jason says. “You were one of the first people I met who killed for a reason.”
“Everyone kills for a reason.”
“A good reason.” Jason amends. “A reason that makes sense.”
“I heard you made your decision on the matter.”
“I did.”
“Can’t imagine Batman was too happy with that.”
“He wasn’t.” Jason looks down at his glass.
“I'm sorry you had to start killing.” Midnighter says.
Jason swallows. “It’s what I was made for.” He says. His eyes don’t leave his glass. “I think it just took me a while to get there.”
“I’m sorry about that too.” Midnighter says quietly.
Jason looks up from his glass. “I’d rather it be me than someone else.”
It feels to much like looking at a version of himself. Midnighter takes a slow drink of his own whiskey. The burn washes away some of the strange feeling in his chest.
When Dick comes over to reclaim his brother for a game of darts, Midnighter ignores the warning look Dick gives him.
Jason looks back over his shoulder as Dick leads him away.
Midnighter has reclaimed his corner booth by the time Jason escapes the game and saunters back over.
“Hey.” Midnighter says.
“Hey.” Jason says. “Can I sit?”
Midnighter nods at the bench seat across from him. Jason glances at it, and then tenses. Looks back at the room.
Midnighter almost laughs. Classic vigilante shit. Never wanting to sit with their back to a room. He rolls his eyes, and then pats the bench next to him.
Jason looks pleased.
He expects Jason to just sit down next to him, but apparently Jason would rather sit past Midnighter, in the corner. He sets his glass down and squeezes in front of Midnighter, giving him a front-row seat to the way his pants hug his ass.
Jason trips over his boots and Midnighter reaches out to steady him, fitting his hands around his waist. He would never expect a guy Jason’s size to have such a trim waist, but Midnighter’s hands look huge in comparison. He flexes his fingers, just to feel the size of it, the way he can grab it so easily. He holds on for longer than he needs to. Squeezes.
“Careful.” Midnighter says.
“Sorry.” Jason says. He does not sound sorry.
Jason settles himself into the corner of the booth, between Midnighter and the wall, and looks very pleased with himself. He slumps, casually stretching out so his thigh presses against Midnighter’s.
Being in a dark corner doesn’t grant them much privacy in a room full of vigilantes, but it does provide the illusion of it. Jason reaches past Midnighter to retrieve his drink, briefly resting his hand on Midnighter’s thigh. Bold.
When Jason’s back in his seat, Midnighter can still feel the lingering warmth of his touch. Jason watches Midnighter over the top of his glass as he takes a slow sip.
“You don’t usually come to this sort of stuff.” Jason says.
Midnighter smirks. “I’m not usually invited. The Justice League has their preferences.”
“I’d invite you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’d be stupid not to. You and Apollo blow the rest of us out of the water.”
“You were holding your own pretty well out there.”
“You saw me?” Jason asks, almost shyly.
“Yeah, I did.” Midnighter says. “You’re good. Fast. Smart.”
Jason flushes. “I’ve learned a lot.”
“Yeah, you did, didn’t you?” Midnighter says. “Not little Robin anymore.”
Jason licks his lips. “No.” He says, a little breathlessly. “I’m not.”
“Mm.” Midnighter says. “You move like someone who knows what he’s doing.”
“I’ve been training.”
“I bet you have.” Midnighter says. He doesn’t hide the way his eyes drop to Jason’s chest.
Jason squirms. “Still couldn’t beat you, though.” He says.
“I have half a foot and at least fifty pounds on you.” Midnighter leans forward. “Of course you can’t beat me. You’re tiny.”
Midnighter didn’t think Jason could get redder, but he does. He shifts in his seat, his thigh rubbing up against Midnighter’s as he adjusts.
Midnighter glances down and bites back a laugh. For all the talk of maturity, he didn’t expect a little flirting to get Jason’s dick hard. The tenting in Jason’s pants is obvious, hidden from the rest of the room by the table and Midnighter’s bulk.
Midnighter reaches down, grabbing Jason’s upper thigh and squeezing. Jason lets out a little gasp, opens his legs a bit wider. An ask. An invitation.
Midnighter leans in, his lips brushing against Jason’s ear. “Baby,” He murmurs, “I’m not going to give you a handjob in a room full of vigilantes.”
Jason moans, softly, in the back of his throat. “Then let’s go somewhere else.”
“You think you can calm down enough to walk?” Midnighter squeezes Jason’s thigh again.
“Oh, fuck.” Jason bites out. “Fuck. Give me a minute.”
Midnighter isn’t used to seeing people be so affected by so little. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that he was able to get Jason hard from just talking to him. Looking at him. Brushing against his thigh.
To see Jason with his face flushed, his head leaning back against the booth with his eyes closed as he takes slow, shaky breaths.
“You’re easy, huh?” Midnighter says softly.
Jason’s eyes crack open. “If you want me to be able to get out of here, you need to stop talking like that.”
“You’re not making it easy to stop.”
Jason takes a shaky breath. “If you want me to suck your cock in the alley, you need to.”
Midnighter grins. “You gonna do that for me, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” Jason says, his eyes dark. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that.”
Midnighter isn’t the type of man to get hard from a little dirty talk, but his dick is making a valiant effort, fattening up in his pants at the mental image of pushing it past Jason’s plush lips.
“You ever done that before?”
Jason pales.
Under his hand, Midnighter feels Jason’s body tense up.
Midnighter takes his hand off of Jason’s thigh. “Hey, are you okay?”
Jason takes a breath. “I’m fine.” He says, a harsh edge coming into his voice.
He’s not fine. Midnighter can hear his heart pounding. There’s the distant memory of Jason as a child, getting anxious and mean the moment he felt Midnighter was pitying him.
“Yeah.” Midnighter says instead, as close to soothing as he can get. “Yeah, you’re okay.”
He watches Jason take another deep breath. And then another. Slowly, consciously, relaxing his shoulders.
They sit together in silence for a minute, Midnighter sipping at his drink and giving Jason as much privacy as he can when they’re crammed in a booth together.
“Listen.” Midnighter says finally, leaning forward to try to catch Jason’s gaze. “I can leave. You can tell me to stop. We don’t need to do anything.”
Jason looks at him. “But I want to.” He says. There’s a childish whine in his voice, and Midnighter smiles in spite of himself.
“Okay. But you can change your mind any time you want.”
“I won’t.” Jason spreads his legs again, pressing his thigh more insistently against Midnighter’s.
Midnighter sets his glass down. “But you can. C’mon.”
Midnighter slides out of the booth. Jason is a little unsteady when he climbs out, shaky from the flirting and from what Midnighter can only assume was a hastily-redirected panic attack.
Jason is still a little pale.
Midnighter debates offering his hand to help Jason up, and in the end doesn’t.
Instead, he stands back and watches Jason climb to his feet, not bothering to hide the way he takes in Jason’s body. His shirt tight across his chest, his pants now slightly less tight in the crotch, but still a hint of his cock visible through his jeans.
Jason notices his gaze and flushes.
“With me.” Midnighter says.
Jason, he discovers, is very good at following orders. Midnighter is sure that people are watching the two of them leave, but he doesn’t hear anyone mention it. As long as nobody follows them outside, it’ll be fine.
Midnighter had cased the joint when he had initially shown up. He knows that there’s an exit in the back, past the restrooms. He knows that the heavy door spills out into a secluded alleyway. He holds the door open for Jason.
It’s still raining hard, but there’s a small overhang covering the exit and the brick wall to the side of it. Midnighter lets the door slam shut behind him.
Jason, it turns out, is not interested in wasting time. He grabs Midnighter by his coat, dragging him backwards so Jason has his back pressed against the brick, so Midnighter is blocking him in. Midnighter almost laughs. He got the feeling Jason liked being told what to do, liked to have someone else be in charge. It would be easy for a guy Jason’s size to find someone smaller than him. Instead, he came to Midnighter, who easily pins Jason against the wall with his body. Jason tilts his head up, straining to kiss Midnighter, limited by his height.
It’s cute.
He entertains Jason a bit, leans down and lets him take the lead, lets him inexpertly lick into his mouth.
Cute, but not what Jason wants. He can tell by the way his hips twitch, by the quiet whine in the back of his voice.
It’s easy to fix it.
One hand goes to Jason’s jaw, tilting his head back and holding him firmly in place. The other goes to Jason’s ass, gripping low, fingers reaching between his legs and squeezing hard. He pulls up, forcing Jason up onto the tips of his toes, pinning him against the wall so he can finally kiss him the way he should be kissed.
He bites at Jason’s lower lip before pushing his tongue into Jason’s mouth, hard and unyielding. Jason’s hands move from his jacket to around his neck, pulling Midnighter down, pulling him in closer.
Jason rolls his hips, trying to get purchase on Midnighter’s thigh. Midnighter can feel Jason’s hard-on through his pants, can feel the way Jason grinds it against him, trying to get a good angle.
That won’t do.
Midnighter moves his hand from Jason’s jaw to his other thigh. He pulls back from the kiss briefly, mutters a quick, “Hold on—“ before hauling Jason further up the wall so his dick is perfectly aligned with Midnighter’s crotch. Jason gets the message quickly, wrapping his legs around Midnighter's hips.
“There, sweetheart.” Midnighter murmurs, dipping his head to suck a hickey into Jason’s throat. “How’s that?” He squeezes at Jason’s thighs where he’s holding onto them, appreciating the fat and muscle there, the weight of him.
“Oh, fuck.” Jason says, his voice cracking.
“Not used to that, huh?”
“No.” Jason tilts his head, giving Midnighter better access to his neck. “Fuck, you’re big.” He says breathlessly.
“Mm.” Midnighter slides a hand up Jason’s t-shirt, cupping at one of his pecs, slowly rubbing a thumb over his nipple. Jason gaps, arching his back into Midnighter’s touch. “Sensitive.”
“Y-yeah, fuck, c’mon…”
“You need something?”
Jason responds by rolling his hips against Midnighter’s.
“Alright.” Midnighter says easily. He pinches at Jason’s nipple before returning his hand to his thigh. “Alright, baby.”
He’s sure Jason was expecting him to just grind against him. But Midnighter isn’t a man for half-measures.
Midnighter moves his mouth back to Jason’s throat, and thrusts hard enough for Jason to bounce on his hips.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck—“ Jason gasps, scrambling for purchase on Midnighter’s back, digging his nails in as he does it again. And again. Nailing him against the wall, grinding into him. Too fast, too rough.
“Midnighter, M, give me a minute-" Jason’s twitching, his legs tightening on Midnighter’s hips. "fuck, m’gonna—“
Midnighter pulls back, examining his work on Jason’s throat where it’s red and purple and slick with spit. He licks a long stripe up it. “What? You’re gonna what?” Midnighter asks. He squeezes hard at Jason’s ass, pushing his middle finger into the crack as best the can through his jeans. Jason lets out a garbled noise at that, tries his best to meet Midnighter’s thrusts.
Midnighter pulls away from Jason’s throat, taking a moment just to watch. To see Jason’s strained, red face. His swollen lips, his wet eyes. A tear streaks down Jason’s cheek. His eyelids are fluttering. He’s not talking anymore, not even moaning, just gasping, just fucking back against Midnighter’s heavy, jolting thrusts. He’s forming words with his lips, and Midnighter realizes, with a sharp inhale, that he’s mouthing ‘pleasepleaseplease’ over and over. Begging.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Midnighter asks softly, his tone incongruent with the rough thrusts driving Jason into the wall behind him. “What are you going to do?”
Jason’s eyes roll back when he comes. A strangled, gasping cry tears out of his throat, stuttering in time with Midnighter still roughly grinding into Jason’s crotch.
“Yeah.” Midnighter tilts his head down again, pressing kisses into Jason’s throat. “Yeah, there you go. Feels good, right?”
Jason lets out a dry sob in response. Midnighter gentles his thrusts, but doesn’t stop. He’s suddenly extremely aware of how rock hard he is, his dick an insistent weight in his pants. It would be easy to just follow Jason over the edge, to fuck into him until he comes in his own pants.
But Jason made a promise.
Midnighter waits until Jason’s breathing levels out to give him a slow, languid kiss. Jason’s mouth is soft and slack when he presses against it, letting Jason take the lead this time. Midnighter slowly lowers Jason back to the ground, minding his shaking legs. Jason’s arms loosen from around Midnighter’s neck, dropping down to grip at his shirt. Midnighter keeps a firm hand on Jason’s ass, holding him steady. The other one moves to his hip, rubbing slow, calming circles into his hipbone.
“Can’t believe you came in your pants.” Midnighter murmurs against Jason’s lips.
Jason turns bright red. “No I didn’t.” He says.
“You didn’t? Then what was all that?” Midnighter returns to mouthing at Jason’s throat.
“J-just felt good.”
“Yeah?” Midnighter asks. He moves his hand from Jason’s hip, roughly undoing Jason’s button and zipper.
“H-hey, what the hell, Midnighter—“ Jason protests, reaching down to grab at his arm. Midnighter slaps his hand away.
He shoves his hand into Jason’s underwear, finding his soft, sticky dick and squeezing at it. “Then what’s this?”
“Oh, fuck—“ Jason sobs brokenly as Midnighter squeezes harder. Jason twitches from the overstimulation. “It’s too much, Mid, please—“
“If you didn’t come, then what’s this fucking mess?” Midnighter hisses.
“It’s my come, it’smycome, it’s too much Mid please stop—“
Midnighter releases his grip on Jason’s dick and swipes his hand through the mess in his underwear. Jason grabs at Midnighter’s shirt, gasping for air.
“I thought so.” Midnighter murmurs. “Pull your shirt up.”
“What?”
“Pull your shirt up.” He repeats. “Let me see those pretty tits.”
Jason turns an even deeper red, but does as he’s told. He pulls up his shirt, tucking it just under his armpits, exposing his pecs. The deep red of his flush goes down his neck, painting the top of his chest a pretty pink.
“Good.” Midnighter says. He pulls his hand out of Jason’s underwear and smears the mess of come across his pecs, rubbing it into his nipples. He pinches at Jason’s nipple again. His eyes flutter shut.
Midnighter’s cock twitches in his pants.
“Good boy.” Midnighter murmurs.
Jason flinches. His eyes snap open. His skin goes white.
Midnighter jerks his hands away from Jason’s chest. “You okay?” He says.
“M’fine.” Jason swallows. He nods, squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again. “I’m fine.”
“Do you want to stop?”
Jason shakes his head. His eyes are cast downwards.
“Hey.” Midnighter lightly touches Jason’s chin. “Look at me.”
Jason lets Midnighter guide his chin upwards, but his eyes are trained on Midnighter’s shoulder, not looking at him. Not meeting his gaze.
“Jason.” Midnighter says, very gently.
Jason swallows again, and then finally locks eyes with him.
“Talk to me.”
Jason licks his lips. “I don’t like to be called that.”
Midnighter nods. “Is there anything else that bothers you?”
Jason laughs brokenly. “It’s a long fucking list.” He says. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’d rather not go over it when I have come on my chest.”
Midnighter exhales slowly. “Maybe we should continue this another time.”
“No!” Jason says, grabbing at Midnighter’s shirt. “No. I mean…” He bites at his lip. “Listen, this just… happens. Sex is kind of a minefield. But I want it. Fuck, Midnighter, please.”
“I don’t want to scare you.”
“I’m not scared.” Jason snaps reflexively. Midnighter watches as Jason looks away, forces himself to take another slow, deep breath. Jason rubs at his face. “Mid.” He says, closing his eyes. “I understand if you want to leave. But I swear, I want this. I want it.”
Midnighter considers. He doesn’t want Jason to push himself too hard. But Jason is, at the very least, someone who telegraphs when they’ve been frightened. He can tell when he needs to stop or let go. It makes him feel better. Apollo is always too good at hiding when he needed Midnighter to stop. It scares the shit out of him. “You can change your mind anytime you want.” He repeats.
Jason nods quickly. “Yeah. I know.”
Better Midnighter than someone that won’t be gentle, that won’t pay attention to his flinches and his tells, someone who won’t stop when he needs to. Better Midnighter, who has too much experience with men who have been raped, who knows how to take care of someone when they need it.
Maybe Midnighter should stop. Maybe he’s already pushed Jason too hard tonight. Maybe he’s rationalizing this because he wants it too badly, because he likes the way Jason writhes against him and lets him push him around.
Maybe Jason can tell that he’s thinking too hard, because suddenly Jason’s hands disappear from his chest, are fumbling at his belt.
“You sure?” Midnighter says, already pushing his hips into Jason’s hands.
“I’m sure.” Jason says.
Midnighter shoves him back up against the wall, pulling him into a searing kiss. Jason moans into it, his hands moving faster, tugging at the buttons and zipper, pushing into his pants.
Midnighter groans as Jason finally gets a hand around his dick. His underwear is a mess from all the precome, and there’s an easy slick slide as Jason starts jacking him off.
Jason pulls away from the kiss. Midnighter watches as he gets onto his knees. His jeans darken with the rainwater puddled beneath them.
“Tell me if you need to stop.” Midnighter breathes.
Jason nods.
Midnighter’s eyes roll back when Jason finally puts his mouth on him.
His mouth is blissful, hot and wet and tight. There’s a momentary spasm of a gag reflex, and then he’s swallowing him down, taking him into his throat. There’s no pretense of propriety, no little licks or kisses. Jason takes him as deep as he can and starts bobbing his head, making loud slurping noises.
There’s no way he can breathe past Midnighter’s cock, but Midnighter doesn’t have it in him to pull his head off or tell Jason to stop.
When he’s finally able to open his eyes again, he has his hands planted against the brick wall over where Jason is kneeling in front of him. Jason’s eyes are wet, his face red. He looks blissed out. His eyes slowly drift shut and then blink open again, looking up at Midnighter.
“Yeah.” Midnighter breathes. “There you are. Just needed a dick in your mouth, huh?”
Jason moans, and Midnighter groans in response as Jason’s throat vibrates. Midnighter watches as Jason slurps at him, as his face turns from red to purple.
He should tell Jason to pull off.
He doesn’t want to.
“Sweetheart.” Midnighter finally says, when he’s worried Jason might actually knock himself out. “Take a breath.”
Jason pulls off of Midnighter’s dick and takes a gulping breath of air. His lips are a dark red. There’s thick globs of drool are running down his chin.
He looks gorgeous. He rests his hand on Jason’s head, gently strokes at his soft hair.
“Fuck my mouth.” Jason slurs.
Midnighter has to close his eyes against the sudden rush of lust. “Fuck. You want that?”
“Yeah.” Jason says. “Yeah. Wan’ it, please.”
“Alright, baby.” Midnighter says. “Open your mouth.”
Jason opens his mouth obediently, keeping his eyes trained on Midnighter as he feeds him his cock. Midnighter’s grip on Jason’s hair tightens. Jason’s eyes slide shut.
Midnighter starts slow, but Jason barely reacts to the first few rolls of his hips. He holds on to Jason’s hair, pushing in as deep as he can go, watching as Jason doesn’t so much as choke on it.
Midnighter’s a big guy, he knows he can be overwhelming. Watching the way he just slides in and out of Jason’s mouth… it’s dizzying. It’s like Jason was made for it. Made to take his dick.
Jason’s hips are moving too, twitching unconsciously as Midnighter fucks his mouth. Midnighter grips Jason’s hair, pulls back and lets him gasp for air again.
“Look at you.” Midnighter breathes, looking down at where Jason’s hardening in his pants again. “Can you come again, sweetheart?”
Jason nods as best he can with Midnighter’s hand still holding tightly onto his curls.
“Yeah, I bet you can.” Midnighter says. He grips his cock tightly, squeezing at it before pushing it back into Jason’s mouth.
He does it in cycles. Lets Jason take it down his throat until he starts turning purple, and then pulls out and lets the kid drool and gasp for air.
“Fuck.” Midnighter whispers. His knuckles are white. He can barely think straight. Jason’s soft and pliant, his eyes rolling back in his head. Midnighter can see the head of Jason’s cock peeking out of his undone jeans.
He moves his foot forward, and presses the toe of his boot against Jason’s cock.
Jason jolts. There’s an awful moment where Midnighter thinks that he upset the kid again, but then Jason lets out a broken moan and leans forward to mouth at Midnighter’s dick, pulling at where Midnighter’s hand stilled in his hair.
“Okay, okay.” Midnighter soothes, shoving his dick back down Jason’s throat. He feels Jason at his feet, rubbing off against his boot. He has no rhythm, is just thrusting and writhing and moaning past where his mouth is stuffed full.
Jason comes a second time with Midnighter’s cock down his throat. Midnighter watches as he twitches, as come spills out in dribbles, making a stark mess against the black of his boot.
Midnighter pulls out again, even as Jason tries to chase his cock. “Take a breath.” Midnighter orders.
Jason gasps for air, his chest heaving, shiny with his own come from where Midnighter had smeared it earlier.
“Fuck.” Midnighter says. “Can I come on your tits?”
Jason’s cock twitches again, another pearl of come dripping out. “Yeah.” Jason says, his voice raw and pathetic. “C’mon, do it.” He pushes his chest out, presenting it to Midnighter. Showing off.
“There you go.” Midnighter says, his breath going ragged as he starts jacking himself off. “There you go, sweetheart. Show me those pretty tits.”
“Please.” Jason says, still red-faced and breathing hard from choking on Midnighter’s dick for the better part of ten minutes. “C’mon, please, I want it.” And then he looks up at Midnighter, all sweet-faced and mischievous, and with his wrecked, dick-sucking voice, whines “Please, daddy.”
Midnighter comes so hard his vision goes white. He does his best to aim it at Jason’s chest. He makes a fucking mess of Jason, his chin, his tits, his abs.
Fuck, he looks good like that.
He’s still breathing hard when Jason leans down and starts licking his own come off of Midnighter’s boot. Midnighter’s already spent cock twitches, and he grits his teeth.
“Fuck.” Midnighter says, watching with wonder as Jason cleans up his mess. “Taking such good care of daddy.”
Jason runs his tongue over the toe of Midnighter’s boot one more time before sitting up and looking up at him.
“Come up here, baby.”
Jason’s even more unsteady now, and Midnighter has to grab him by his armpits and pull him up. His jeans are soaked with rainwater. His chest is a mess of come, his mouth and throat and rucked-up shirt all wet with his own drool.
Midnighter leans down and laves his tongue across Jason’s tits, ignoring Jason’s overstimulated whine when he sucks at his nipple. The come is bitter, but Midnighter scoops it up as best he can, sucking it into his mouth. A mix of Jason’s and his own.
“Open up.”
Jason is so well-behaved.
He barely reacts when Midnighter spits the mess into his open mouth, just closes his mouth and swallows it.
“Fuck.” Midnighter says. He presses himself against Jason, pushing his face into Jason’s hair, pinning him between his body and the brick wall behind him. He closes his eyes. Jason, so sweet and pliant, melts into him, trusting the pressure of Midnighter’s body to hold him up.
“You good?” Midnighter asks.
He feels Jason nod. “So good.” Jason slurs.
“Need to clean you up.” Midnighter says. He can already feel his own shirt getting sticky from Jason’s chest.
“Five more minutes.”
“What, are you gonna fall asleep standing up?”
“Maybe.”
“Alright.” Midnighter says. “I’m taking you home.”
“We’re leaving?” Jason asks, his voice muffled from where he has his face pressed into Midnighter’s shoulder.
“You want to go in there and explain to your big brother why my come is all over your chest?”
Jason is quiet for a moment. “Alright.” He says. Midnighter takes a step back from Jason and helps him pull his shirt back down over the sticky mess on his chest. Jason makes a face.
“My jacket’s in there.” Jason says.
“Dick can take care of it.”
Jason looks down at the mess of his shirt and jeans. “…Yeah, alright.” He says.
“Good.” Midnighter brushes an absentminded kiss against Jason’s forehead. “You ready to go?”
Jason lets out a contented sigh. “Yeah.”
“Alright.” Midnighter says. “Door.”