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Jason doesn’t bother being nice, doesn’t bother being kind. The little snot of a kid below him is a goddamn nightmare, even before he so fucking stupidly went back into Gotham and got Alfred killed. He’s truly the personification of his last name — a demon, and a shitty one at that.
Without preamble, Jason unzips his trousers, smears lube on his cock with his free hand, and sticks one, two, three fingers into Damian’s tiny little cunt and spreads them, making him wail and buck his hips up frantically; he can’t tell if it’s to get away or get closer, but he honestly doesn’t care. If Jason was a better man — a better brother, a better person — he’d slow down, stretch him open real gentle-like, but the thing is — he’s not.
And Damian was letting this happen. He was laying back and taking this because he wanted this, because he knew he was a fuck-up who deserved every single bit of pain that Jason was inflicting, and fuck if that didn’t please and piss Jason off at the same time. On one hand, the demon wasn’t as deluded as the rest of their so-called family; he knew that he was the reason Alfred was dead, but on the other hand, Jason half-wished he could force him down and take him, make him realize that he was absolutely disgusting and teach him a lesson that he would never ever forget.
But.
Even that was a little bit too far for Jason’s loose morals and poignant emotions.
So he had to settle for this.
His cock drips against his hand as he jerks himself off, and he rubs the bulbous head against Damian’s sticky little slit with a hum. It bumps against his pulsing clit, and Jason lets out a bark of laughter as the Robin arches his back in deep pleasure-pain, dragging his pussy against Jason’s length in a pathetic, tiny attempt at a hump.
Quick as a flash, Jason’s hands pin his waist down, and the older male smacks his dick against the quivering folds, enjoying the wet slap of their flesh meeting and groans, low in his throat. He frots himself there for several moments until he hears Damian’s high pitched whine, and peers down at him, grin warping into a sick sneer at the sad display. Heir to the Demon, son of Batman, the new Boy Wonder, spread out below him, all subservient compliance and silence. Oh how the mighty have fallen, Jason thinks. It’s a good look on him.
He kind of wishes he could take a couple of pictures, but his fellow Red— Tim— was too good with tech. He’d find them within weeks and rat him out and oh, Jason couldn’t have that now could he? He was currently the least annoying one in the family and God, if that wasn’t something he’d ever thought would happen. Oh, and wasn’t that Damian’s fault too.
Yes. It was. And that just made him want to take photos— maybe even a bit of video— even more.
But he couldn’t risk it. Jason would just have to commit this to memory as best as possible.
Absentmindedly he licks his thumb, coating it liberally in spit, and mercilessly begins to work it against Damian’s hard clit, smiling at the way he began to frantically wiggle away. “Ah, ah, ah,” He chides, and presses his torso harder into the mattress below him. Teeny tiny fingernails scratch at his biceps uselessly, unable to dig in and grip because of the slick red silk button-up he’s wearing, and instead they twist deeply into the soft cloth. It wrinkles up his nice expensive formal shirt, and Jason grinds his teeth together because goddamn it he actually put effort into ironing up the damn thing today.
It's just another thing the brat’s screwed up.
His thumbs press deep into Damian’s soft flesh, bruising it darkly as he drags his dick up that soft inner thigh, and he lines himself up. His cockhead dribbles pre-cum onto the Robin’s hole, mixing with his juices that freely drip down onto the bedspread, somehow making it seem even more inviting. Jason leaves it there for a moment, lets it rest against that hot little pussy until the anticipation and pressure builds up and reaches its crescendo, and right as Damian opens his mouth to complain he buries himself into his brother’s cunt with a violent snap of his hips. His cock manages to sink only part way in because he’s just so tiny it literally can’t fit, and the brat below him shrieks and thrashes around, eyes immediately wetting and cheeks reddening at the sheer agony being stuffed into him.
Some part of Jason prickles with unease at the animalistic sounds he’s hearing (causing), the frantic gasps and heaves for air, but he shoves it down, clamps onto his anger and grits his teeth, focusing on the tight hotness that’s clenched around his dick. It doesn’t help that Jason didn’t spend a lot of time prepping him, but. Fuck. He’s so tight.
He tries to drag his hips back so he can try and thrust again, but the muscles cling to him, vice-like in their grip, and he winces. Damian’s pussy is so small that it’s near painful, and it’s by far the most constricted hole he’s ever fucked. By the time just the head of his dick is within the clenching, pulsing slit from the boy beneath him, he’s pulled out a low whine from him that quickly escalates into a full-fledged wail as he wrestles himself free.
Damian’s panting, sobbing, lashes wet and eyes glazed as he throws an arm over his face in a weak attempt to cover himself, and Jason curls his large hand around his forearm. Without preamble, he wrenches it away, harsh, and presses it into the space above the boy’s head with a growl. “Don’t try ta fuckin’ hide, you goddamn brat—”
A hitch of breath, a quiet whimper and squirm, and dazed green eyes meet his.
He shouldn’t look so pretty like this, Christ.
The other delicate arm is grabbed, and Jason places it on top of the other, flush against the pillow, covers it with his own big hand. He leans his weight down on those thin, flimsy bird bone wrists, crushing him into the mattress, covering him up from the world, and fucks his way back into the dripping wetness below, ignoring the sobbing yell he gets as he forces more of himself in.
Good. He deserves to hurt.
Clenching hotness grips him, almost like a cocksleeve, and Jason growls as he works himself in and out and in and out, getting just the littlest bit deeper every time. “That’s it, take it,” He mutters. He finally manages to sink balls deep into Damian’s pussy, and when he looks up at his younger brother’s face it’s a deep, dark flushed red.
His eyes are squeezed together, and sharp small teeth gnaw at his swollen bottom lip, and Jason stills, heart pounding in his chest. It shouldn’t— it shouldn’t be physically possible for him to be buried all the way in. There’s even a little bulge on Damian’s stomach from his dick, God. He looks like a little kid, even spread open and stuffed with cock, held down with a straight up lecherous expression on his face, and something in Jason’s chest palpitates.
He can’t tell if it’s arousal or disgust or pity, but whatever the hell it is it’s not welcome.
The moment of strained silence and quiet makes the utter perverseness of the situation sink in, and he feels bile crawl up his throat. Anger is quickly draining from his body as he stares down at his baby brother despite everything, and he’s never been more mad at himself. (Or is it Damian, the world, everything—?)
But Jason grits his teeth and does what he always has.
He keeps going.
Steadying his grip on Damian’s narrow wrists, he uses them as an anchoring point to hold on to and withdraws, and fucks his way back in, the whole bed shaking with the force of his thrusts. He doesn’t look at Robin’s face, just at his shallow tummy, and watches as the skin and muscle distort because of his girth, and can’t help but grind against him, slow. Damian’s practically impaled on him, forced open, split in two, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing Jason has ever seen.
He withdraws, cleaves his way back in, balls slapping against his baby brother’s sweet cunt, and begins to rut like an animal in heat. Each deep stroke in forces half-sobs and mewls from Damian’s swollen, bitten lips, and Jason tsks. As arousing as those sounds are, he wants to hear the slick wet sounds of their coupling, so he shoves three thick fingers into his mouth and doesn’t stop pushing them back until they’re knuckle-deep. Damian gags, eyes rolling skyward, and arousal flares deep in his gut.
Jason fucks him hard, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to hurt, and it’s exactly what the brat deserves. Eventually he removes both of his hands— the one from his mouth and the one on his wrists— and uses him like a toy, dragging him back and forth on his cock easily. Their flesh slaps together, the loudest thing in the room, and he slams into him with as much force as he can muster. Orgasm curls, low in his belly, and with a feral snarl he piledrives into his brother, violent and unforgiving, and he emphasizes power over speed as he takes a couple of seconds between each harsh fuck forward to make each inward pound as strong as possible.
With a final groan, he shoves himself in as deep as he can, past what Damian can comfortably take, and cums, spilling his hot load into the Robin’s greedy little hole with a sigh. His semen floods the demon’s channel, saturating it with him and him only, and miraculously a little bit of the liquid oozes out past his thick cock.
Reaching out, Jason wipes it away with his thumb and looks at Damian. He’s wrecked, destroyed, and yet still spread wide around his cock, and with a jut of his hips he jerks himself forward into that welcoming heat.
Damian keens, and the older man looks down at him, face a stone mask.
“Did you think we were done, Dami?” He hisses, and tiredly Damian closes his eyes, body shaking with overstimulation at the slow grind his brother has started.
But despite the sensitivity, the way his cunt still throbs with unreached orgasm, the way he just wants to get as far away as possible— he spreads his legs wider, thighs trembling.
Jason leans in, breathes hot against his mouth; and says—
“Good boy.”
And that’s enough.