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Jason doesn’t tend to linger when he’s fucking someone.
There’s no need for his eyes to drag over skin when his goal sits below the waistband. When it’s a mutual, beneficial thing like this where they already know each other intimately though... it’s hard not to.
His hips don’t change in their slow, steady thrusts but he lets himself look at the youngest of them. The bat who isn’t quite so baby anymore.
Sure, the last vestiges of baby fat cling to his cheeks. The spark of what some people might call innocence. It’s hard for him to say that, not with their background, but he can see how it looks from outside eyes, too.
Damian groans, deep and hurt, as Jason’s cock hits his prostate head on. Tightening around the girth in a long, aching wave of pressure that only makes him fuck a little harder into that soft, slick heat. The tender insides of someone who doesn’t have tender outsides, not anymore. All beaten away, first by the League, then by being Robin in a city where the rogues try their damndest. Every time.
The older man slows only long enough to resettle his grip around those slim hips. Getting his handfuls of flesh so he can pull the teen onto him with just as much force as his thighs put into snapping his own hips forward. Burying himself over and over into Damian, making him take the full length of him each stroke, until it’s a harsh breath from his own mouth. A groan as he feels his balls tighten and pull up against his body.
“No, not... not yet.”
A tan hand grips at the chain connected to the collar around his neck and pulls. Jason grunting and hissing through his teeth as he makes himself stop. Makes himself still his hips at the order. Obeys the rules that they’ve set into place even as his gaze devours the younger man in a way his cock isn’t being allowed to.
“You owe me one more first, I kept track.”
It makes him grunt again, this time in annoyance, but he lets go to grip the base of his cock roughly. Settling his orgasm back down from the peak it’d nearly reached into a valley of heat and pleasure and ache of denial.
“You know what happens if you’re lyin’, kid.”
He grunts it out, but lets the pressure on the chain tip him further forward towards the green eyes and curved lips of the last Robin. One of the only people he’d ever even trust to put a collar on him in the first place, let alone talk to him like this.
“I am not. You fucked me up on that rooftop seven days ago and told me you’d ‘make it up to me’ when you left me a mess to clean up on my own. This is you making it up to me, Todd.”
Jason’s ears burn at the crude language he doesn’t normally use. The way his hand keeps reeling the bigger man in, so he has to let go of hips to plant them on either side of Damian. So close now their noses are touching.
“So, one more. Make it up to me.”
It’s his commanding voice parroted back to him. The same voice he used to get Damian up on that rooftop, pants down just over his ass and flush against a wall so no one else could see. Humping him in a fit of angry hunger that ended in a fantastic orgasm and a scraped cheek he took flack for for days.
So yeah. He takes it. He lets Damian demand the kiss, the orgasm, the way Jason fucks him. Rolling his tongue over lips and letting the taste of the chocolate they shared twenty minutes ago pass back and forth. Reaching to the side and pawing until he finds the bottle of lube, the wet sound of him retreating fully bringing a dangerously arousing groan out of them both.
His hand doesn’t take any liberties, no superfluous touches as he covers himself again in slick. Wiping his hand off on the edge of the blanket and roughly palming Damian’s chest as he turns him over. Waiting until the chain is back in hand before he slaps the head of his dick on the puffy, red hole in front of him. Dragging it back and forth until he’s yanked at, then pushing it in in one thrust. Slamming his hips into the firm cheeks and grinding hard. Following the chain as it’s reeled in again until he’s settled over Damian’s back, biting at the round of his ear as his hips start to move again.
This time though, it’s rough and deep. His balls swinging to slap against thighs and sack with every one. Making Damian feel the full length of him as he moves, restricted as he is by the hold on his neck.
But it’s the kid’s favorite position and he knows that even without that full range of motion, he’ll get off. Really, it’s overkill when he shifts his balance just enough to get a hand under him, cupping the mostly full cock up against the tan belly so it fucks through it every movement they make.
It doesn’t take that long, it never does. Eventually the slimmer man starts to shudder. His cock leaking, throbbing, as Jason hits him deep. Once that goes... he loses his grip on the chain and Jason takes the slack as permission to go upright again. Leverage making him thrust harder, until it’s just broken, soft, muffled noises to go along with the rough slap of flesh.
Neither of them are loud, but when they come it’s a shared symphony of moans that shake the air around them like a hurricane with their intensity. Hurried, low swearing as Jason grips the teen’s hips and fucks the last of his own orgasm out into the condom. Sitting him up and into his lap with barely an effort, though he helps keep him there with a hand to his chest once they’re both simply breathing. Shuddering through the last of the aftershocks until it’s just... quiet. The only sound between them their breathing and the small sounds of fabric under their legs.
“...acceptable.”
Which gets a snort and Jason pushing Damian back down to the bed.
“I’ll fuckin’ show you acceptable, brat.”
Which means no one will see them the rest of the night, sure, but he’s okay with that.
Very okay with that.