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When Dick first drops into his apartment through his window, he's worried. No alarm had been tripped, and from what Dick could tell no one could have unwisely broken in unless they were capital-G good. What made him wary was that he was looking forward to coming home to the blow of his air-conditioning running after sprinting around in the mid-summer heat all evening.
There was no such blissful cold welcome to greet him when he arrived. In fact, the room was the same temperature as outside— which either meant Dick was dealing with some seriously busted equipment, or a lunatic that cut off his power. Not the ordinary lunatic that was Dick's landlord, since he'd made sure he paid all of the necessary fees this month in preparation for the weather.
Then he sees the Robin uniform shed all over the floor. Dick's heart rate spikes. He reaches over his shoulder to wrap a hand around an escrima stick. As he creeps forward, he calls out, "Robin…?"
His bedroom is dark, but the door is cracked, light peeking through. Dick frowns. Damian hadn't told him he was going to be in Blüdhaven, though he guesses it doesn't take much effort for the kid to come out here. Damian did like a dramatic entrance like the rest of them.
Dick shrugs. He pulls the door open and continues through the hall. He turns into the opening for the living room, thumb peeling off the edge of his domino.
He stops in his tracks.
Naked. Damian is—
Dick shuts his eyes, but the sight is already flash-burned into his retinas. His palm ends up flat on the wall beside him, fingers curling over the corner to brace himself.
"Hello, Richard," Damian greets with a lazy drawl.
Breathing slow through his nose, Dick opens his eyes. Damian is laid on his stomach across the couch cushions, which is draped with thick fuzzy blankets. He has a sketchbook open in front of him, one folded arm propping up his chin. There is seemingly miles of bare, pretty skin, exposed and stretched across the couch.
Never let it be said that Damian isn't aware of his best assets.
Despite having a sketchbook, he's got his phone serenely in hand, thumb skimming the screen. Wait. Not Damian's phone, that's— Dick whips his head around to search for where his personal mobile was meant to be charging on the tabletop.
"Oh, yeah," Damian says calmly. "You seem to have a few things on here that don't belong to you."
Dick relishes in the safety of being turned away by wincing, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. He opens them to twist slowly back around, hawk eye focus on his phone in Damian's grasp. It at least gives him something to look at besides Damian's nakedness.
Damian glances slyly over Dick's expression, dropping his wrist to angle the powered on screen for Dick's viewing pleasure.
Dick blanches. Ah, Right. He really should've expected this to bite him in the ass eventually. He didn't manage a lot to conceal the deviancy.
He runs his fingers through his hair, to give himself a moment to think. "Damian, look. It's not what you think—"
"Oh, is it not?" Damian interrupts, lips curling into a devilish smirk. It was a bit of a mind fuck to see the kid spread out on the couch in this licentious manner, when he's seen him popped up on the same cushions covered in chip dust and clutching a game controller while he squeaked out profanities.
Then again, this is hardly the first time Dick's gotten hard looking at Damian, knowing perfectly well who he was to him and how young he was.
Him and Damian have the same age gap as him and Bruce.
On Dick's phone screen, sits the folder of the many images he stole from Jon and Damian's text messages. Even from here he can see the grainy icons of Damian's bare skin and pink tongue and the press of Jon's pale thighs against Damian's ass, cock half-sunk in a spread pussy—
Dick jars himself back into reality before he gets lost in the fantasy realm of fucking Damian right in front of him. "I. I don't actually have an excuse," He admits.
"You don't," Damian agrees. He drops the phone and pushes himself to sitting up. Dick sucks in a breath.
His eyes skate down his chest, abdominal, to the pretty pussy in between two strong thighs. Dick's fist clenches hard around his escrima stick.
Upon realizing he's holding it at all, he drops it with a noisy clatter in favor of fumbling for the zipper at his back. That's an invitation if he ever saw one, but really, what about, "Jon?"
"What of him?" Damian says, sounding a tad breathless as Dick peels off his suit.
Dick ignores him. "You listening?"
Damian exhales gustily, and he slumps back onto the couch, unfolding his legs to let them splay apart. He picks the phone up again and holds it out to Dick. He takes it just as a vibration rumbles through it, and the screen lights up with a message.
Dick tosses it back onto the couch and takes two short steps into his space, wrapping his hands around two biceps and hauling the boy up to kiss him.
It's only a harsh crash of their mouths for a split second, Dick continuing to push forward until Damian is collapsed on the couch again while Dick fits himself between his thighs, knees on the cushion. Damian gasps, hot mouth opening up for Dick to explore.
He tilts his head and groans into the sweet warmth, one arm slipping around Damian's body to press his naked body against his. Damian makes a rough noise, a leg hooking around Dick's waist, curled with his heel against his ass.
"Robin," Dick husks, biting Damian's lip as he breaks the kiss.
Damian shudders against him, rolling his hips to grind his bare cunt against the protruding bulge of Dick's cup. "I assume that means he approves."
"You know he does, you little shit," Dick smiles helplessly, pecking his lips, and then his cheeks, and his nose. Damian mewls like hes fucking him, eyes fluttered shut. Dick kisses those too. Arms wrap around Dick's neck, butting his head beneath Dick's chin. He nuzzles into Damian's hair now that it's under his nose, breathing deep.
Plush lips part and leave his throat damp with spit, wet kisses along his hammering pulse. Dick groans.
"Which of the photos did it?" Damian asks. "Convinced you to keep them?"
As if he had to be convinced. The second he saw them he knew he would end up breaking. Dick has to close his eyes, swallow, thinking about it. Sees it flash in the darkness of his head. "The one of your back."
Damian presses his face into his neck, fingers crawling through Dick's hair to play with the strands, idly, like he can't believe he's touching it. "That's certainly a way to describe it."
Dick hooks an arm under Damian's butt and one around his waist and pushes off of the couch, swinging around to rush into the hallway. Damian has his legs obligingly around his waist, so warm and soft, Dick's suit still hanging off his hips.
He drops Damian on the bed, the boy's dark eyes roaming his front, hair a mess on his forehead, skin flushed, and braces his arms on either side of his head to kiss him again.
"Get the rest of that off." Damian breaks it to speak while Dick strings open mouthed kisses down the side of his neck, the pristine curve Dick's dreamed about for the past year and a half. He thought he tossed and turned over it an equal amount— maybe he spent longer wanting it.
Dick takes too long for Damian to take and he grunts impatiently, pushing at Dick's shoulder. He unfolds off of him and shoves down the rest of his uniform, freeing his cock from the suffocating jock, leaving it pooled on the floor.
Damian props himself up on his elbows to stare for a moment, biting his lip and breathing unnaturally heavy for a kid with his lung capacity.
Dick smiles. "See something you like?"
"Don't be such a dork," Damian demands.
"You like it," Dick laughs. He's with Jon, after all. Before he can start forward, Damian twists over and drags himself up higher, feet still hanging off the bed. Dick watches the play of lithe muscles in his back, the dip of his lower back and waist, hips raising.
Now Dick's lung capacity is starting to look like a joke. Spit swells under his tongue.
Damian peers at him over his shoulder, the fluttering of his lashes visible from his profile. "Like this, correct?"
It's better, in person.
Dick drops to his knees and gets his hands on Damian's ass, and thigh, the smooth skin cut by an occasional, imperceptible scar. His cunt is dripping wet, and hot to the touch when he slips his thumb between the folds. Damian's breath hitches.
He explores Damian's pussy for the first time with his tongue, instead. He can't very well reach his clit from here, at least with his mouth, and so he reaches an arm around to get fingers on it instead. He buries his face in between Damian's pretty ass and licks into his cunt.
Damian cries out, a little, like hes in pain. Dick is so hard he has to shift in place, reaching his free hand down to grip the base of his cock. Jesus.
He slurps on intense slick, tongue dragging in quick passes inside. He wonders whether he'd ever get the chance of chasing the taste of cum out of his soft-wet hole. His. Or anybody else's.
"Hah, Dick," Damian whines in complaint, his arms falling to brace on the bed, folded. His squishes his head to look at Dick between his legs, raising his hips higher to make more space to see. It interrupts the access Dick has to his pussy and he makes a sound of annoyance in return.
"This isn't how the photo looked," Damian says.
Dick's eyes raise to Damian's pussy again. He shifts his hand to press his thumb in, opening him up to look at his pink insides. He shudders in place, gripping hard at his cock. "You're right. Sorry, baby."
Dick stands on shaky feet, pushing Damian down into place, and feeds his cock into his open hole. He shuts his eyes tight, mouth falling open as he's surrounded by the slick, perfect warmth. Stretching around him so beautifully, like he was made to get fucked on Dick's cock. He hilts within a few seconds, and grips blindly at Damian's hip, overwhelmed.
There's a high, breathy noise muffled into the bed. Damian shifts and rocks backwards, his pussy squeezing tight around his length to try and convince him to move. Dick curses, snaps his eyes open to take in the view, the flexing muscles of Damian's back and thighs, his ass, his pussy split and filled up. His cheek mushed against the bed, soft mouth parted with encouraging moans.
Dick snaps, a little. He pulls back and slams inside in one smooth stroke, once, and then pistons in and out of him like a crazed animal, hands grasping at Damian's waist and ass. He doesn't register the sounds he makes, rough grunts distant in the back of his head.
The treatment jostles a long whine from his boy's throat, a dragging thing, desperate as his wet cunt. The sound of it is obscene, squelches of his slick drooling all over his cock, making a mess of his thighs. Dick breathes hard, licking his lips, not wanting the taste of Damian to go to waste, lingering from the slick on his chin. Fuck, Dick even dreamed about what he might smell like.
"Baby," Dick says, like his vocal cords were worn down by a cheese grater. He touches Damian's slippery clit with his thumb instead. He watches a shudder ripple down Damian's spine, the curve of it an enticing arc. He jerks in deeper, on the next thrust. "Look at you. No photo compares to real life, baby. God, look at you."
Damian chokes on an honest-to-god sob. His head turns, to glance at Dick properly, and he catches the glisten of thick tears in his lower lashes—
—And suddenly, Dick's had enough of this position. He pulls out and turns Damian over, as easy as that, not even having to touch him before his thighs are spread wide and he's sinking back inside him again, and Dick is leaning over his body to align their faces. Damian's head lolls, open mouth gasping and red, eyes fluttering.
Dick moans as he drags his tongue up the salty trail of Damian's tears down his cheek, falling in crystalline drops. Damian's arm lock around his neck, keeping him close, as he pulses inside him in hard pumps of his hips. Pleasure a live wire through the line of his body, sparking with fire. Damian is still so fucking sweet for him, so tight, taking it like a champ.
Dick finds the boy's hand, clutching the sheet, turns it over so he can interlock their fingers instead. Damian turns his head and bites into Dick's mouth, raspy noises punched out of him, and Dick has no problem obliging him.
"Is my Robin going to come on my cock?" Dick asks, in between. He mouths at Damian's cheek again, the tears, while Damian's fingers digging into his back. He feels the pulse of his cunt around him when he says it, the gush of wetness. He can tell that he's close, like this, and god it's a rush; Dick knowing how Damian sounds, how he looks before he's about to come all over his cock.
"Batman," Damian says hoarsely, hips lifted in little twitchy pleas. "Yeah. M'gonna come, s'just—"
Dick rolls his thumb over Damian's clit in steady circles, relishing the little cry it gets. He pants through the starbursts of pleasure behind his eyes, how his balls draw up tight to his body. "You got s—shit— something else to say before you do, baby? That's okay. Got something to say, too."
He plants more sloppy kisses across the boy's face, tightening his fingers in Damian's weak clasp. "Love you. So much, baby. I'll always love you, no matter what you do, or who you're with. Don't— fuck, don't even need this if you don't want it again. Just need you. Just you."
Damian's fuzzy eyes pop open, clearer, shiny. He gapes up at Dick, stunned and beautiful, still working through the pleasure building up in his body. Dick smiles down at him, sweat down his back and his temple.
Fingers wind in the Dick's hair, and Damian lurches up to press their mouths together again.
Dick sucks in a breath, when the kiss breaks, and Damian's body shivers and locks up as orgasm approaches. Damian murmurs, "I love you, love you, love you—"
And Dick can't help but come right after him.