Work Text:
It’s been a long few days, staying holed up in the workshop was totally okay with Roy. He had several creations that were works in progress, and he figured that with Jason gone, he’d be able to get them done and tested with no problems or interruptions – not that he would have noticed them anyway, with how absorbed in his work he gets.
So, he doesn’t actually know how long Jason’s been away, or how long it’s been since he last showered. Or ate. Or saw actual, natural light. It stopped mattering fairly quickly when Roy found a glitch in the system update for his Roybots, and it set him back about a day and a half.
Really, it’s only when he hears the loud slam of the front door – luckily for him, it was during a rare moment of awareness, and he’s able to take a quick assessment of everything around him and get his bearings – that he realises he has to probably go back upstairs some time.
Roy settles down on the gross-but-totally-clean sofa, arms thrown over the back and legs stretched in front of him. He’s sure he makes a sight, dirty with days-old grease, shirtless and wearing pants that are long for the trash. There are loud, stomping footsteps approaching and he cranes his neck to watch as Jason storms into the sitting room, barely even looking at him before he stomps into the kitchen. The sound of the refrigerator opening and slamming shut is loud in the otherwise silent warehouse.
He doesn’t get it at first. After a tense silence, Jason leaves the kitchen and approaches him, tense and scowling at nothing after a run-in with the bats, and Roy doesn’t need to be an expert to know that there are still some issues that won’t ever be sorted any time soon.
He watches as Jason throws himself onto the couch beside him and huffs noisily, and though it’s a front Roy knows that asking what’s up will just lead to a whole world of trouble for him. So he stays quiet and goes back to tinkering with the pieces of what he thinks might have previously been their toaster.
Another quiet huffing sound is the only warning he gets before Jason all but throws himself face first onto his lap and stays there, lying curled up uncomfortably on their lumpy-as-fuck couch with his head on Roy’s thigh. It surprises him, sure, but it’s not the first time it’s happened, so all Roy does is set down his work in progress and carefully sift his fingers through Jason’s surprisingly soft hair. It earns him a quiet hum and it’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.
Roy doesn’t realise how tired he is himself until he’s half asleep with his head rested against the back of the couch, his fingers still toying with Jason’s hair.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep – dozing, really – for, but when he opens his eyes again Jason is kneeling above him, thighs pressed tight against his and caging Roy underneath him. Roy grins up at him sleepily, blinking in confusion. He’s not bothered, but being caught up wouldn’t hurt. He hums, tone inquisitive.
Jason’s eyes scan his face, and he looks far too worried for Roy’s liking. It’s instinct at this point – after living and working together so long, these casual touches become second nature – to reach up and cup Jason’s cheek, his thumb gently brushing across the soft skin just under his eye. Jason whines, almost too quiet to hear, and leans into the touch. Roy still doesn’t know what’s wrong, but this quiet and responsive Jason – so different to the angry, unapproachable man that came home earlier – is a wonder to wake up to. He almost doesn’t want to break whatever spell has been cast in the room. Almost.
“Everything okay, Jaybird?” His voice croaks from disuse, he doesn’t realise how long it’s been since he last spoke – doesn’t know how long he’s been on an inventing spree for.
Jason only hums in response, pressing his cheek harder into Roy’s hand. He shifts on his knees, the fabric of his jeans rustling against Roy’s, and leans the rest of his body against the archer’s – their chests pressed flushed, Jason’s shirt shifting against the sensitive skin of Roy’s chest, his stomach.
Roy shivers.
Then he feels it; the slight tent in Jason’s pants, pressing almost insistently against the flat of his stomach. He shivers again.
“Jay, baby, you sure?” He asks, his hands moving to rest on Jason’s hips.
Jason nods, licks his lips. His eyelashes flutter, and Roy’s breath catches at how unexpectedly beautiful Jason is above him.
Roy’s fingers wriggle against Jason’s sides as they inch under his shirt. A small grin stretches across his mouth, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud when Jason squirms on his lap, his mouth twisting into a grimace. Roy hums, “C’mon, you gotta talk to me, baby. What do you want?”
Jason huffs out a breath and Roy would say he’s pouting – not to his face; never to his face – but he bows his head before Roy can comment, avoiding eye contact.
Roy hums again, grin getting bigger. His fingers start wriggling again.
“Roy,” Jason starts. His voice is low, tone warning, and he continues squirming, trying to get away from the feather light touches. “Please.”
Roy just continues to skate his fingertips across Jason’s skin.
“Roy.”
Roy looks up at him suddenly, eyes serious. He raises an eyebrow, “Yes?”
At this point, the bulge in Jason’s jeans is unmistakable, and Roy figures it’s only a matter of time until Jason takes matters into his own hands. Despite the fact that they’ve never actually done anything like this before – a kiss or two after a job well done being the most intimate thing they’ve done together – it’s not as uncomfortable as Roy would have imagined.
And boy, has he imagined.
Jason rolls his hips forward, grinding his hardening dick against the hard muscle of Roy’s stomach and letting out a quiet breath when he finally gets the friction he wanted. Needed.
All at once, Jason’s movements are stopped and he whines high in his throat at the feel of Roy’s fingers pressing hard into his hips, gripping him tight enough to hold him in place. His hands reach up to grip at Roy’s shoulders, nails scratching at his skin.
Roy laughs, “No way, Jaybird. Not without telling me what you want.”
He squeezes Jason’s hips when he stays silent for too long, and lifts his hips slightly to press his own still mostly soft dick against Jason’s backside. “C’mon.”
Finally, finally, Jason sucks in a sharp breath, and fixates on a patch of freckles by Roy’s right shoulder, continuing to avoid eye contact.
“Roy. I need. Would you just-“ He sighs, blows out a puff of air that shifts the white bangs from where they hang limp in front of his eye. A frown creases his forehead, and he looks pained.
“Touch me.”
Roy grins up at him, and squeezes his hips once more. “See, that wasn’t so hard was it? There’s a good boy.”
It slips out accidentally, but Jason’s entire body jerks in response and his hands fly to Roy’s hair, fingers tangling in the long strands. Jason’s breath leaves him in a shaky exhale and he doesn’t quite know what the hell just happened, but his entire body feels like it’s on fire and he wants more of it.
Roy just laughs. He does as Jason asks, and his fingers move to swiftly undo the button and zip of his jeans, pulling the metal down over Jason’s cock torturously slowly. Jason groans.
The wet head of Jason’s cock peeks above the waistband of his briefs, and Roy swipes the pad of his thumb over the tip, collecting the sticky pre-cum with his fingers. Looking up at Jason, he sticks his thumb in his mouth and moans loudly, for show.
Jason squeezes his eyes shut, and his hips roll against Roy’s stomach again. He doesn’t wait for Roy to move again, and sits up higher on his knees to pull his underwear down, hooking the waistband under base of his leaking cock.
Roy finally jolts into action, and takes Jason in his hand, grip tight around him. In what feels like no time at all, Jason is leaking into his fist and making the slick slide of his hand along the shaft easy and fast. The sound is wet, obscene, and backed by Jason’s panting breaths.
“God, just- look at you,” Roy whispers, eyes locked on the sight of Jason’s cock sliding through the tight ring of his fist, “So beautiful.”
Roy slides his free hand under Jason’s shirt and up the smooth plane of his stomach and chest, stopping to roll a nipple between his thumb and index finger, to pinch at the hardened bud. The moan he gets is definitely worth it.
By now, Jason’s fucking into Roy’s tight fist, hips moving in quick, jerky movements. He’s held out for so long, straining against the hold Roy has on him. In fact, Jason lasts so much longer than Roy expects that he thinks he's doing something wrong. Roy doesn’t know, exactly, how long it’s been, but eventually he loosens his grip around Jason and asks, "Everything okay, Jaybird?"
Jason whines, his face dark and splotchy. There are tears in his eyes and he tries to choke out a reply, his breath heaving with the effort. "I need- you need. Please. Please." He jerks his hips, fucks into Roy’s loose fist - which finally gets tighter when he realises exactly what Jason means - and Roy can’t stop the laugh that escapes him.
“Oh, this is just perfect,” Roy’s fingers tangle in Jason’s hair, and he tugs gently at the silky strands. He gets another high whine in response. “Be a good boy,” he grins when Jason’s breath hitches at that, and leans in to kiss up and along Jason’s jaw, stopping just under his ear, "And come for me."
And Jason does. He makes a mess of Roy’s hand and goes practically boneless against him, his head falling forward to rest against Roy’s shoulder.
“You’re perfect.” Roy sounds breathless himself, though not to the same extent he, himself, is.
Jason can’t find the energy to care about the fact that he’s embarrassed himself monumentally, revealing something so private he wasn’t quite aware of it himself, and he doesn’t quite know if Roy will ever take him seriously again after this, but he feels too good that it’s all inconsequential right now. His chest is heaving with the force of his breathing, all he can smell is pure Roy, and right now he doesn’t think that anything could get him to move. Not when he can feel Roy’s cock pressing against him, hard and wet against the seat of his jeans. He shifts slightly where he’s sat on Roy’s lap, and gets a quiet grunt in his ear in reply.
Jason grins.
“Your turn, then?”