Archive of Our Own

"Sure, Bruce," Dick says, drumming his fingers on the counter and checking his watch. He's going to be late. It doesn't matter that much, only he's trying to keep to a schedule, a routine. An interruption here and there is probably healthy, but Dick was just gone on a mission last week that ran long and he couldn't keep his appointment. Twice in two weeks...

Well. The pros will probably make up for the extra work he's going to inevitably have to do.

"You don't have to, of course," Bruce hedges on the other end of the line. "After what happened last time—"

"Don't worry about it," Dick says, sincerity softening his tone. "This time is different. They're not the same, you know? I really don't mind."

It's the nonchalant way he says it. Bruce's silence is deafening, full of pain and regret. Dick curses himself. These are the kind of slip-ups that won't necessarily give him away, but they make him look like a massive asshole.

"I just mean that you and I are in a better place than we were last time, B. I don't feel like you're trying to find creative and dramatic ways to spy on me anymore, or think you're trying to manipulate me into coming home more often. It's different because they're different. We're different."

And this time it's not me you're trying to replace, Dick doesn't say.

He hears Bruce swallow hard; can picture him scrubbing at his exhausted face and running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Dick can feel the hesitation, the attempt to stop himself from asking what he desperately wants to ask.

Feels the moment his mentor loses the battle a moment before Bruce sighs heavily and says, "I'm sorry to bring it up again but... anything new on your end?"

Dick may not feel the same way Bruce does about the situation, but he does feel bad for Bruce. He still remembers what it felt like to lose his parents, and he can't help but imagine that losing a kid is even worse. "I'm sorry, Bruce. You know I'd tell you the moment I found anything."

"I know."

Dick allows the silence to stretch for a minute and checks his watch again. He really needs to wrap this up.

"Tell Tim I'm looking forward to hanging out with him this weekend and the Titans are excited to meet him during his break. And let Alfred know I am coming home for Thanksgiving. I'm not sure about Christmas yet, but I'll keep you both posted. I'm kind of in the middle of a big, complicated case and I don't know where I'll be then."

"Sounds good," Bruce says, making a valiant effort to sound normal. "Alfred will be glad to hear it. He misses you."

With a soft smile, Dick takes that as the affection-by-proxy it is and spares a moment to be grateful about their repaired relationship.

"We won't give up, ok B?" he adds. Bruce needs the reassurance sometimes. "We'll keep looking. We'll find Jason. We just have to keep at it."

There is a quiet choking sound. When Bruce speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. "When you say it, I believe you. I just... I can't stop thinking about- imagining what he could be going through... Missing omegas are usually—"

Bruce cuts himself off, unable to finish the thought aloud. Dick honestly feels for him. Even if he's personally of the opinion that it's no great loss and ultimately probably for the best, Bruce has been pretty inconsolable since Jason's disappearance.

That said, while Dick feels pity for Bruce, in all the years he lived with the older man, he doesn't think he ever saw him cry more than maybe once or twice. So every time Bruce breaks down about that upstart bitch, Dick feels his blood start to boil. What's so special about a little gutter rat omega that obviously would have made a shit Robin considering he got himself kidnapped before he even really started? Sure, the replacement was doing half-way decent during his brief tenure, but it obviously wouldn't have lasted. Not like Dick lasted. Not like Tim will. Dick doesn't know what Bruce saw in him when he's so clearly missing the thing that makes the Alphas of their pack elite members of the community, even compared to the powered set. Unless the gossip rags are right and Bruce just wanted somewhere warm and pretty to sheath his knot. He knows it's not that because Bruce is torn up in a way that feels aggravatingly pure.

And oh how Dick wishes it had been that simple. That, he could understand. It's not being replaced — by an omega of all things — if Bruce is just satiating his Alpha instincts. But Bruce wasn't fucking him, and Bruce did make him Robin, and Bruce was so distraught at his disappearance that he didn't even think twice about accepting Tim. All Dick had to say was that Tim could potentially help find gold-digging slut, and Bruce practically exploded with excitement and relief.

And Dick isn't sexist. It's not the designation.

Sometimes, Dick feels like Bruce cares more about Jason after like, a year, than he ever has for Dick.

And that makes Dick want to hurt something.

Good thing he has the best outlet for his anger. If he can just get his mentor to hang up.

Luckily, Bruce's emotional constipation snaps back into place and before Dick can respond, Bruce says, "I'll see you when I drop off Tim." And hangs up.

Dick bounces to his feet before the click and strolls down the hall whistling a made up tune. He doesn't bother tucking his phone back into his pocket. The last thing he needs is to forget to drop it in the control room and leave it somewhere... accessible.

Not that he thinks anything would happen if he did. Certainly these days anyway.

Perhaps he'll make that a final test.

He makes his way deeper into the closet in his bedroom, locates the hidden panel, and enters his code and biometrics. The panel slides out of the way, revealing a small room and a narrow hallway.

Dick makes sure that door is firmly closed behind him before making his way to the end of the hall and pressing his palm against what appears to the naked eye to be nothing more than an ordinary wall. A green light pulses around the outline of his hand for a few heartbeats before a cheerful chime indicates his prints have been accepted.

The wall slides open. Inside is a moderately sized room. Along one wall are dated versions of his Nightwing suit, obsolete Wingdings, prototype escrima, even his last couple Robin suits, all neatly catalogued and shelved. In the corner nearest that, is a work station mostly tidy but with bits of wire and circuit board left scattered across the desk. Next to that is machinery for fabricating weapons and armor, one of Bruce's high-tech sewing machines capable of stitching the titanium-Kevlar tri-weave they use for their suits.

Opposite that setup there is a desk with two computers. One is what Dick calls the Oracle Special, basically a supercomputer the size of a laptop that is networked with the Batcave and Clocktower so that they can more efficiently share information and keep each other up to date on any spec changes to suits and gear.

The other is comparatively low tech. Dick doesn't have Barbara's or Bruce's skill but his are serviceable. He built this one himself and for very specific purposes. Not a single piece of hardware in this one has ever been connected to the internet or networked to anything. It doesn't even have the ability to do either.

Neither do the series of cameras and microphones hardwired in from behind the walls. Dick even puts his Bat-issued phone — already super secure from anyone who isn't Bruce or Barbara — in a little faraday cage as he enters the room, just to be safe.

What this computer does have is three, custom one petabyte drives, an ultra wide 4k monitor for security and video editing, and a direct, closed link to the control pad that Dick keeps on him at all times. It's the only access point to the entire self-contained system that monitors and records everything in rooms on the other side of the wall.

Dick will do the necessary upkeep on that later. If he didn't need to relax after a long mission away, he definitely needs an outlet after his conversation with Bruce.

He passes the workstations by and heads straight for the final door and disables the security.

~.~.~.~.~.~

"Honey, I'm home!" Dick calls out cheerily as he walks through, what is, for all intents and purposes, the front door, as the actual front door no longer opens from the inside, not without Dick's retinal scan.

The first thing he notices is the smell. His stomach rumbles in appreciation at the mouth-watering aroma of roasted meat and vegetables, underlaid with the soft, warm, sweet scent of a budding heat.

Perfect timing.

Across the wide open floorplan, Dick can see the table is set, the roast steaming at the head seat, waiting to be sliced. There are several other smaller covered serving dishes, all off to one side where another place-setting might have been.

A head of dark curls and the tease of bare shoulders pops out from behind the open refrigerator door.

Jason Todd's wet, pink lips are parted in a cute surprised little 'o' and his eyes are bright and wide, relief and fear warring clearly across his expression as his slender, delicate throat bobs on a gulp.

The motion draws Dick's attention to the collar of bruises that peek out from under the actual collar, a sleek, slim slip of metal that packs a punch when necessary. It can clamp around the two pressure points on either side of the nape, executing a perfect, debilitating scruff, it can send a brutal but non-lethal electrical shock, and, most importantly, will administer a sedative and trigger an alert to be sent to Dick should the collar come within six inches of a window or exit. Not that any of them open from the inside anymore. The whole apartment has been soundproofed Bat-style and it's Bludhaven, so all the windows already had bars. But better an abundance of caution than risk his pet escaping.

The knowledge that under that collar is the scar of Dick's teeth over the omega's mating gland makes Dick's cock twitch and blood pump with the satisfaction of possession.

The omega swallows again and finishes putting away whatever it was that had him in the fridge. Then, slowly, with a deep breath as though steeling himself, he closes the door and turns to face Dick.

Sometimes Dick likes a change of pace. There is a small closet full of dresses and lingerie ranging from classy and elegant to scandalous and ultra-revealing. There's a well-stocked vanity with anything needed for an innocent, no-makeup look or a sultry vixen and everything in between.

But most of the time, Dick prefers Jason au natural. He loves the wild, inky curls, the wide robin's egg blue eyes rimmed in long, thick lashes that only get a quick, thin swipe of mascara because Dick likes to watch it run down the kid's cheeks while he cries.

Fuck, he's even prettier when he cries.

Although, the way he looks now is a close second. Standing there in Dick's kitchen barefoot and naked under the simple blue apron except for the little cage Dick knows is keeping the omega's little cocklet small and inaccessible, and the connecting hollow sound that Dick remotely opens once or twice a day — unless he's feeling mean or extra controlling — that allows his pet to take a piss.

Occasionally before he leaves, Dick will put him in full chastity, pussy and ass stuffed full with vibrating replicas of his Alpha's cock and knot, and play with the intensity while watching the security cameras while he's away. He likes to ramp it up when the omega is mid-step or switching tasks, when his mind is least adaptable to the sudden change. It's so satisfying to watch him squeak and stumble or grip the countertop whimpering.

This time Dick had kept it simple. At the time, he'd been craving domesticity over degeneracy, the Madonna over the whore. The thought of coming home to his pretty little mate, wet and willing to worship him after the nice home cooked meal that was ready for him when he walked in the door? That's what Dick had wanted when left last week.

But then he talked to Bruce and listen, Dick knows he has anger issues and that when he gets angry, he gets mean. He'd been thinking about getting professional help for it before Jason. Since then though? It's been really useful for conditioning his mate to his preferences, and it's had a clear and obvious positive effect on his relationships with Bruce and the Titans. Working all that frustration and wrath out on his replacement cooled him off the way nothing ever has before. It was particularly satisfying back in the beginning when the bitch used to fight back but Dick would be lying if he said it wasn't a power rush every time the omega docilely moves into position for his "maintenance beatings" that Dick conditioned him to believing are necessary for his health. After his conversation with Bruce, Dick is itching to remind the little homewrecker of his place.

Looking at the scene before him, that instinct battles with the first. Dick is just going to have to indulge both desires.

That's the nice thing about having a mate, especially a secret one young enough to manipulate and mold; that Dick can have whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.

"Welcome home, Alpha," Jason says, his voice soft and about as demure as Dick has ever heard.

Dick flicks his gaze from the slim calves sticking out from beneath the apron and the cinch of it around a waist so small Dick's fingertips touch when he grips it with both hands, up to look at his omega's delicate face.

Dick meets those wide glittering eyes and smirks. "Did you miss me?"

The conflict of emotion is so much fun to witness. Jason is in an interesting stage of his training. He's not so deep into it that he forgets what Dick has done to him to him, he knows it's fucked up, and he knows that Dick is manipulating and controlling him. But he's also been isolated from any and all contact from another living creature aside from Dick for almost a year now. And while Dick is stern and beats him and says cruel things to him, Dick is also the only one who touches him gently, holds him, fucks him sweetly. Dick cares for him when he's injured and that's confusing when Dick is the one who injured him.

Jason knows he shouldn't miss Dick or want him around. But there is no one else, and the omega has subconsciously started relying on Dick's presence despite himself.

"Yes, Alpha," Jason says, eyes dropping to his toes, whether in shame of that fact or because he realized he was looking Dick in the eye.

Dick makes a disappointed rumbling sound deep in his chest just to watch the omega tense and shiver. "Could have fooled me," he grumbles. "A casual observer might mistake us for roommates instead of a mate welcoming his Alpha home after he's been away for work."

For a split second, Jason hesitates. Then that pretty throat ringed with Dick's bruises, bobs again and he pads closer until he's in Dick's space.

He gets up on his toes and tilts his head to kiss Dick, but he can't reach. Dick doesn't move, forcing Jason to put his hands on Dick's chest to balance and then slide up to wrap around his neck to try to get the leverage needed to reach Dick's lips.

Finally, Dick takes mercy on him and lifts him as easily as he would a child, enjoying the way the omega suddenly clings to him. He presses Jason tightly against him and licks into the omega's mouth with a deep, filthy claiming kiss of ownership. Jason melts into the affection and Dick smirks against his lips.

He slides one hand down Jason's spine, feeling each knob of vertebrae, and squeezes the plump ass waiting for him at the end of that pass. Jason sucks in a breath against Dick's lips and Dick swallows the sound.

"Better," Dick praises with a feather-light kiss to the tip of his omega's nose, followed by a sharp smack to his ass as Dick sets him back down.

"Let's eat!" He exclaims, stepping around the omega and heading for the table. "I'm starving and it smells delicious."

Jason follows two steps behind him and when Dick takes his seat, Jason stands dutifully in front of the dishes, ready to serve his Alpha.

"I thought tonight was supposed to be the chicken parm and tomorrow was supposed to be the roast," Dick says lightly as the omega starts scooping portions onto Dick's plate.

The kid stiffens and Dick watches his eyes dart around the serving plates and bowls, mentally running back through the list.

Each week, Dick gives Jason the ingredients and recipes to make dinner every night. If Dick does not show up for dinner, Jason is to portion out a small amount for his own meal, and a small amount for his lunch the next day. The rest, he's to set aside for Dick, just in case Dick makes it for lunch or is more in the mood for a previous meal than the planned meal when he does show up. There are obviously cameras all over the apartment so Dick can keep an eye on things, but there are also cameras in the refrigerator and all of the cabinets. Originally, that was so Dick could manage his new pet's caloric intake. Jason is so small for his age that even Tim at two and a half years younger is still taller and, well, frankly, Dick really likes the way he dwarfs the little omega; the way the bitch fits against him; how easy it is to throw him around and manhandle and overpower him; and he's not really interested in trying to reverse any stunted growth from any malnourishment the way Alfred and Bruce had been attempting. He would very much prefer Jason not grow another centimeter. To the point where he has considered approaching a magic user for something that would do just that. And as soon as he comes up with a good excuse to ask for such a thing, he'll do it.

However, Dick soon became aware that he was too lenient. What started with just the fridge and the cabinets that contained food, almost immediately expanded to include every storage opening in the kitchen that held anything even potentially dangerous to a motivated and creative mind. It only took the bitch using a skillet to try to brain him once for Dick to put everything heavier than a plate on a pressure pad that sends him a notification when lifted. That one was on him though. It was a rookie oversight. An omega beating their Alpha with a skillet is literally a cliche. Dick owns that mistake. But when that clever little bitch intentionally tried to start an electrical fire in the hopes of escaping when the fire department and police showed up, Dick realized he had severely underestimated the replacement. It was pure dumb luck that departure for his weeklong mission — that he had stupidly told Jason about — was delayed a day and he just happened to be scrolling his phone when he got the call about the smoke detector. It forced Dick to modify every single appliance that requires power so that Jason has to press the call button on the wall to ring Dick to unlock the appliance and activate a specific outlet. Dick also doubled-down on all his safety precautions. Now all the detectors in apartment 3B only notifies Dick. The doors and walls are now fireproofed with the best tech available on six different worlds. Firefly couldn't burn his way in or out.

He also made a show of installing a sprinkler system and made it crystal clear to his shifty omega that it can either spray water to douse a fire, or kerosene to incinerate the entire apartment and everything in it. There won't be enough left of the remains to even positively identify Dr. and Mrs. Fledermaus.

If Jason questioned his resolve to actually commit murder, he didn't share it with Dick. He's not stupid. He's seen more of what people are capable of out of desperation than most. It makes sense to the gutter rat that Dick would rather mercilessly destroy the evidence than accept a risk that he could be caught doing something that could make him infamous.

Jason hasn't tried to start another fire since then.

Dick watches him try to figure out how to say that he followed Dick's meal plan to the letter without contradicting his Alpha. He loves putting the little omega in these Catch-22's and watching him struggle to choose the least bad bad option. He's so cute when he's scared.

Deviating from the meal plan and backtalking his Alpha, both require punishments.

Jason scoops some green beans onto Dick's plate. "I'm sorry, Alpha," he responds diplomatically. "I checked the list before I started, but I might have made a mistake. Would you like for me to bring it to you?"

Dick raises an eyebrow. He's not even disappointed that he won't get to punish Jason — not for that anyway, he can always find a reason later if he wants — he's mostly just excited that the kid was able to navigate the interaction with the grace and humility that a traditional omega would.

Jason is a quick study but he's also stubborn and proud. Talking out of turn, both when he's not spoken to and general sassing, has been one of the last bastions of the former Robin's resistance.

"Don't worry about it," Dick says as he reaches around and unties the apron strings at the omega's waist. "I'm sure you're right. I'll check later."

He slides his hand back up the kid's spine and undoes the strings at his neck so that the apron slips to the floor and pools at his bare feet.

Jason's body flushes an attractive pink — Dick loves that after all this time, the omega is still self-conscious about being bared for his mate — but continues to serve Dick his food.

Once Dick's plate is full and the tops of the dishes are replaced, the omega takes his place, knelt at his Alpha's feet.

He'll eat later. Sometimes if Dick wants to kick back and watch TV or play some videogames, Jason will eat right after while he puts away the leftovers and does the dishes. But sometimes, especially after Dick has been gone for longer than expected (like tonight) or he's back from a particularly rough mission (like tonight) or he's spent too much time dealing with Bruce (like tonight) the omega will have to wait until Dick's done with him.

The first bite is so delicious that Dick can't help but groan. "God damn, little wing," he hums around another bite. "It's a good thing I rescued you from the vigilante life, you would have missed your calling."

Jason doesn't say anything. He just swallows hard again and stares at the floor.

Jesus, he really has become the perfect traditional omega.

Dick watches him for a moment while he munches on a perfectly cooked green bean.

"This is the perfect homecoming, sweetheart. You deserve a reward for being so perfect."

The omega's eyes flick knowingly to Dick's crotch before squeezing closed for just a moment too long. Obviously, Jason is still not fully convinced that getting to suck his Alpha's cock really qualifies as a reward for him so much as it's an expected duty Dick requires of him on demand. But he's still come a long way from snarling and growling and threatening to bite it off.

"Go ahead, omega," Dick says, voice oozing faux geniality. "Unless you'd rather take a break. It's your reward so I'll let you choose. Whichever you want."

The effect of those words is so instantaneous Dick almost laughs. As it is, he doesn't bother biting back the snort of amusement at how quickly his replacement slots his skinny frame between Dick's thighs and frees the thick, half-hard length from the confines of Dick's jeans.

When Dick first built "the break room", he hadn't decided yet whether or not he'd be using it as a punishment or convincing his replacement it was a treat. Ultimately, he opted for something in the middle. Obviously, Jason hates it (hell, he still doesn't exactly enjoy sucking Dick's cock even if he is less mopey about it than he used to be), but a punishment is always humiliation paired with pain. It's cruelty for the sake of it.

The break room toes the line and the only reason it doesn't topple over it, is because of the way Dick treats it and Jason. The way it simultaneously humiliates Jason and allows Dick to ply him with praise, has been instrumental in breaking the stubborn little bitch down into nothing and then building him back up according to Dick's specifications.

Dick glances longingly at the room. It's little more than a tall, narrow box made out of one-way mirrors. The base, rear wall, and ceiling of the inside allows the installation of different implements to suit Dick's moods. He has various fucking machines, a lot of ropes and harnesses, hooks (for both the ropes and orifices), and his favorite, an acrylic post like one might use to display dolls only instead of the prongs arranged horizontally to hold the body up by wrapping around the waist, these prongs jut up vertically and insert into the omega's cunt and ass to hold him up.

Additionally, on the occasion Dick doesn't put him in full sensory deprivation when he goes in the box, it doesn't even matter. All the little slut can see and hear is himself squirming and whining. But no matter what, he knows Dick can see and hear him.

Dick is never mean to him when he’s in there. The fucking isn't ever overly violent, he's never choked, or whipped, or left in there too long. And when he comes out, all weepy and exhausted from the stress and indignation, Dick pours syrupy words in his ear about how good he was and how beautiful he looked and how well he took it and how Dick was so impressed with him.

That last one does it every time.

No matter what happens, Dick's replacement is desperate to impress him.

He finishes his dinner as he cums in Jason's mouth (unless he's fucking the omega's face and holds him in place, Jason knows to pull back enough to keep just the head in his mouth and take his Alpha's load on his tongue so he can taste it).

Dick wipes his own mouth with his napkin and shoves his chair back.

"Now," he says as he stands, not bothering to tuck away his half-mast dick and burgeoning knot. Jason doesn't move from under the table where he breaths heavily from exertion until Dick offers him a hand. "We've fallen a bit behind on your daily behavioral adjustments."

Jason shivers, knowing what that means and what comes next. Dick cups his face and grins like the Cheshire Cat when the omega leans into his touch like a sunflower seeks the sun despite... well, everything. He thumbs away a single droplet of his cum from the corner of Jason's mouth and presses it gently between his red, swollen lips and sighs at the swipe of a hot, wet tongue laving the digit clean.

"You've been perfect tonight. Not to mention how good you were while I was gone. You didn't skip a single sybian session and you put the right vibrators and plugs in the right hole every time. So how about another reward, hm?"

The omega's tiny hand is warm and trembling against Dick's much larger palm and those wide, blue eyes stay lowered as Dick takes in the increasing glow and flush. Jason will be in full blown mature heat by the end of the night.

"If you think I deserve it, Alpha."

"I do. Do you know why?"

"No, sir."

Dick leads the kid to the bedroom. "I talked to Bruce right before I got here." He doesn't miss the way his replacement flinches. Probably both at the name and at the memory of what Dick did to him the last time he talked to Bruce. "I came home, feeling the need to blow off some steam, ya know? But what do I find? My mate, embodying the omega ideal. The perfect innocent slut. A clean apartment, dinner and a beautiful naked omega waiting for me when I get home? It's all an Alpha could want."

He taps his code into the control pad, unlocking the drawer that Jason walked to without even needing to be prompted, and rolls up his sleeves. When Jason returns, Dick takes the wooden paddle and the leather strap out of his hands, and gently nudges him to bend over the arm of the settee at the foot of the bed.

Dick sets the strap on top of the comforter for now and rubs the flat of the paddle against that cute perky ass.

"So, to encourage you to keep up this amazing behavior, I'll forgo most of the make-up strikes. We'll only do 30 each. How does that sound?"

It's still a lot. But it could have been more than double. Dick was gone for six days and the daily allotment is 10 strikes each on the ass, pussy, cocklet, and hole. And he's not squeamish about dolling those out. Usually he would, just to maintain the expectations and established precedent (and to hear the bitch scream and cry while he releases some pent up emotions). But he really does want to encourage this behavior.

Especially when tonight is so special in so many ways.

The tension in Jason's muscles positively melts away. "That-that sounds very generous, Alpha," he says, voice hitching on a grateful sob. "Thank-thank you."

"You are so welcome, omega," he croons, using the edge of the paddle to play with the plugs in his pet's holes. "It's a very special evening. You being so well-behaved at the outset of your first mature heat..."

The tension snaps back into Jason's small frame. Dick smirks. If the omega had noticed something different about this heat than previous ones, he never made the connection. But Dick has been waiting for this since the moment he decided being replaced by a street rat omega was unacceptable; that his replacement needed to be shown his real place in the hierarchy.

"When we're finished with this, I'm going to knot you over and over and over again until you're so full of my seed that you'll look as if I put my pups in you months ago instead of tonight."

Dick grins as Jason starts crying before the first strike falls.