Hello! Welcome to the other half of this prompt. Number 48 "Boo.", by anonymous. Requesting Talon!Dick, and Stray!Jason. This time, with Court of Owls Talon!Dick, and Stray!Jason, as raised by Catwoman but without the stabilizing presence of Dick. There are so many puns and innuendos in that sentence I can't even begin to choose a joke to make. Enjoy!

Warnings for : lots of graphic sex, Dom/sub themes, and collars. (By the way, this is slightly dub-con-ish, but also totally consensual. If that makes any sense. It involves bargains selling sex, but I didn't include prostitution as a tag because it's not really that either. I dunno, this is weird.)

Slipping into the abandoned apartment isn't anything more than habit. Cracking the window, climbing in through the gap, and easing it shut behind me all happens on automatic. I'm busy looking around the single room, studying dark corners and trying to force my eyes to adjust faster. Looking for—

"You're early, Stray." It's like he appears out of thin air. My muscles still tense for a moment even if I halfway expect it, when suddenly I can see the reflection of what little light there is off his eyes. He moves, and only then can I see the faint outline of his frame. He doesn't come any closer.

I force myself to relax, and not to finger the whip attached to my right hip. "You're earlier, Talon."

Now he moves, slipping forward farther into the room. Not straight at me, not ever, but around in a circle like he's stalking me. Talon never moves in any way but like he's some kind of predator, hunting his latest piece of prey. I might deal with him, but I'm still not used to feeling like that prey. It's something in that unnatural, slitted orange shade of his eyes, like a cat's. As long as those eyes are focused on me, there's a piece of me that freezes in place like some kind of scared rabbit and prays that he's not actually interested in eating me just yet.

He pauses about seven feet away from me, against the wall and perfectly still. I almost lose him in the shadows. "Come for anything specific?" he asks. His voice is low and quiet, just enough that I can hear him but no more. I swallow.

Somehow it feels just a little safer to be standing in the slatted, if dim, light coming through the window. So that's where I stay. "Batman," I answer. Even in this place, this meeting ground that we've used for years without anyone catching on, saying that name aloud still makes me glance over my shoulder and out the window in paranoia. Sometimes, saying his name is like some kind of a summons. "I'm looking to plan a couple heists; got any kind of information about his plans for the next couple weeks?"

Talon shifts closer, to just at the edge of where the light comes in. Not more than two feet away from my side. "I might. Do you have anything to pay me with, kitten?"

I turn towards him, and then duck my head as I let myself relax a little further, and let my body language open. "I might," I echo back at him.

He takes a step back, and then I can read the tilt of his head as I watch his moves. "Come here," he murmurs.

This is familiar too, but that doesn't mean that the suggestion of getting closer doesn't freeze me for another moment. After that second I move forward, stepping out of the lights and into the shadows beside it, up to Talon. Against my better judgment, I step right into his space. Until we're almost touching, and I can actually almost see him in the darkness. He's dressed head to toe in black, with gold accents, but his hood and mask are pulled back and hang at his shoulders. That exposes golden skin tinged an unnatural pale color, those orange eyes, and the occasional flash of white teeth.

I know he can see me just fine. Those eyes let him see in the dark without a problem, though they're also vulnerable to bright lights or even just the light of a sunny day. He can still see, but if it's any brighter than slightly dim, and he doesn't have the protective filter of the lenses in his mask, it hurts. It's the same way that sudden, loud noises can hurt him, thanks to his enhanced hearing. Both things I learned by accident.

I probably know more about Talon than anyone else in the world, except his masters.

Most people don't survive seeing a Talon; even less survive meeting and talking to one. This thing between us is strange, and I don't think I fully understand why he lets it happen or what he's getting out of it. I just know that he hasn't killed me yet, and he doesn't seem to have any plans to. Asking why seems like a terrible idea, and I know at this point, getting out isn't an option either. If I stop being useful to Talon, while knowing this much about him, I'll die. I've got no illusions about that.

I stay still as Talon raises his right hand, and underneath the touch to my cheek and then down to my throat. It takes practice not to pull away from the brush of his clawed fingers down my neck. His thumb lingers in the hollow of my throat, claw just barely digging into my skin, and then his hand slides around the back of my neck and grips tight. The tiny flick of one corner of his mouth is his muted version of a smile.

"Relax, kitten," he whispers. "You know hurting you isn't part of this."

I swallow as he pulls me forward and then turns me, pushing me back against the wall. "Doesn't mean that you're any less scary," I point out. "Especially not with the appearing out of nowhere trick like some kind of ghost."

"Boo." His tone is slightly sarcastic, mocking, but I get another one of those small twists of his mouth. "I'll give you the information I have; it should be enough to let you plan whatever you want to. In return?"

"What do you want?" is my question. I pay Talon for his information with myself — he's pretty good, so it's not like the experience is awful for me — and he likes to experiment. What he's in the mood for one night might not be the same as the last time, or it might be totally new. Sometimes I get the feeling that he's using me to experience what he's been denied. Then I wonder if the Court of Owls knows he's doing this, or if I'm in for a messy death someday when they find out.

"A few things," he murmurs, hand still gripping the back of my neck. Not enough to puncture my skin with his claws, but I know he could, and I know he will if I make him angry. "I want you until I'm done with you, kitten. For now."

"Not more than twenty-four hours," I bargain, "and you have to either attend to, or let me attend to, all my normal human needs."

"Deal. Most of what I'm considering we've done before, except one thing. I want you to be what you are, kitten." My brain stutters to a halt, eyes widening because of what I think he just implied. His hand slides to the front of my throat, pinning me back against the wall, and I can't help the instinctive shudder. "I want to put a collar around your throat, I want to own you."

I swallow against his hand, caught in place by the glow of his eyes and the prick of claws to my skin. "Same rules as always?" I manage to ask, and I'll deny to the day I die that my voice is rough and dark at the idea. It might strike some seriously hidden chords in me that are all too happy to give Talon exactly what he's asking for.

He nods, loosening his grip on my throat. "Nothing permanent, a call of 'red' stops everything. I won't hurt you in any way you won't enjoy, kitten."

"Deal," I murmur. He gives a slightly larger smile that flashes too many teeth for it to be comfortable.

"Good." He reaches over with his free hand and pulls the blinds over the window closed. My breathing picks up at the almost complete darkness, as he lets me go and moves away. I can't hear him move, but I know he's crossing the room. I close my eyes, feeling the wall at my back and letting it ground me. We've done this before.

The light against my eyelids makes me open them again to find Talon standing over the small collection of candles across the room, just lighting the last of them. It's dim lighting, and it flickers, but that's to his comfort level. It's enough for me to see by, and that's all I need. I step forward and away from the wall, halfway approaching him until his gaze flicks up and pins me in place.

"Strip down," he orders, just loud enough for me to hear. "Then bend over the end of the bed."

His gaze doesn't leave me, and I'd be lying if I said that being watched as I peel out of my costume isn't seriously hot. I take everything off, my protective goggles and underwear included, and then move towards the bed. It's ours, as much as the room is. Good quality, comfortable sheets, and a sturdy metal frame and ornate headboard that works well when he brings out ropes or handcuffs. Those have been some fun times. I've been fucked a lot of different ways on this bed, even fucked him a few times too. He seems to like it, but it also seems to unsettle him somewhat. I guess that's why he only asks for it every once in a long time.

I bend myself over the bed, arms cushioning my head and my back sloped down to compensate for the angle. The bed's pretty high, as beds go, but I'm a tall guy. It's not an uncomfortable angle, and I can stay in it for a long time, it's just not one that I can really let go in. Takes a bit of focus to stay at the right height.

I close my eyes and settle in to wait. It's not long before bare hands touch my sides, and I'm so used to not hearing him move that I barely even twitch at the sudden feeling. His fingers count my ribs as he slides his hands up, and then his left hand curls into my hair and drags my head up a few inches. His right disappears, until it touches the side of my throat. The feeling of leather isn't far behind. I swallow as he lets go of my hair and loops the collar around my neck, pulling it tight. A little too tight, I realize, as I hear the metal of what has to be a buckle.

"A little looser," I tell him, keeping my voice quiet. He silently readjusts the collar, and I let out a long breath as it eases a little bit. Still there, I can feel it with every miniscule shift of my neck, but not pressing in against my skin anymore.

"Better?" he asks, fingers brushing against my neck, just below my right ear. I nod, and then give a small shudder at the feeling of the collar moving with me. His hands slide down my back, and all the way down to my ass. I give a quiet groan when his fingers rub across the outside of my asshole, and then down onto my perineum. "Ground rules, kitten. I own you. You don't speak unless I ask you a question or give you permission. Tap my skin if you want that permission. You don't come without my permission either, and that won't be until you've earned it. You'll call me master, kitten, and if you disobey me at any point, I'll discipline you. Is that clear?"

Oh, I'm a little farther into this game than I thought I was going to be. I'm also more aroused at the idea than I've been at anything in a long time, so to hell with reservations.

"Clear, master."

Talon makes a small, approving noise. "Good. Stay still, kitten."

Talon's tongue flickers against my skin as I gasp, my throat arched tight and my back not that much better off. He's cool where his skin is pressed to mine, his mouth low on my ribs and his hands like unbreakable steel bands holding my thighs open. Almost to the point of pain. I'm overheated, a mess of sweat and overtaxed muscle, and I don't know if it's his control or something the Court did to him, but Talon is still fine. Despite the fact he's fucked me twice now, and taken my mouth once too. Despite the fact that the taste of him lingers at the back of my throat, and I can feel his release inside me too.

He's let me come once, and there was a pause after that to let me pass out for a little while and then drink enough water I didn't want any more. I couldn't even guess how much time has passed, but I feel like it's less than I think. Or maybe it's more, and I've just been kept so high that time has blurred out.

I shudder, twisting against the cuffs holding my hands up above my head and giving a thin whimper of sound. A plea comes to the tip of my tongue, and I swallow it back with effort. Not supposed to speak. I try and just breathe instead, but the feeling of his teeth and tongue against the sensitive skin of my side drives any air I get right back out of me.

My cock is straining between us, untouched for way too long but still just a few steps away from bursting. I knew that I could come just from being fucked, and I knew that Talon was very good at driving me to that point, but I didn't know that he could bring me right up to the edge like this and then just keep me hanging. I'm not sure he knew either, but he seems to really enjoy it.

He pushes up, leveraging off of the grip he has on my thighs and it hurts for just a second before he eases the pressure. My legs are trembling, and he lets go of his grip and strokes his hands down my thighs to my hips. The sound that leaves my throat is something like a whine. He shifts closer, and my breath catches when I can feel the tip of his cock brush my perineum, and then slip lower. I don't know how I manage to arch any further, but somehow it happens.

"Kitten," he murmurs, his hands sliding up my sides as his tip presses lightly against me. He doesn't give me any other warning before he pushes into me.

I give a cry, twisting against the restraints, my legs coming in to press against his sides as tightly as I can manage. He slides easily inside me, the way smoothed by leftover lube and his past releases. I can hear the wet, slick, dirty noises as he fucks me, his fingers tracing patterns on my heaving ribs. I'm sensitive, the nerves down there overworked, and the slide of him feels amazing. He's angled the wrong way to hit my prostate — on purpose — but it barely even matters. Not after the two times he's already fucked me, and the time he spent beforehand fucking me with his fingers and tongue.

I'm barely even seeing what's in front of my eyes, I'm shaking, and I know that this time it's not going to matter how well he angles himself. There's no stopping the wave building in my gut.

Desperately, I tighten my legs against his sides, flicking my left foot to tap it against his thigh. His next thrust is slow, teasing with every inch until his hips are pressed against me and he stills. I give a dry sob, my back collapsing out of the arch as my legs weaken and fall open.

"What is it?" Talon asks, his hands stopping their wandering to rest against my sides instead. "Speak, kitten."

My mouth opens, my head rolling down so I can look at him. "Please," I beg, my voice rough and shaky. "Master, please. I can't—" The wave ratchets a little higher, and I cut off with a low cry and a hard shudder. That makes me clench down around him, which makes me feel every variation of his skin, and then I'm arching and grabbing the metal headboard to try and hold back. It only barely works. "Please, I can't stop it!"

"Let go." His voice is soft, and I have to force my head down so I can look at him. So I can confirm I'm not just hearing what I want to. "Come for me, kitten."

Then he pulls back, shoves his hips forward again. This time at the right angle.

I think that I might scream. But honestly, with the way my blood rushes through my ears, and the thick thud of my heartbeat in my skull, I'm not sure. I know that I arch off the bed, that the cuffs dig into my skin because of how hard I'm pulling, that Talon is moving between my legs and fucking me through it.

Then it's like all my senses cut out.

When they return I'm flat on my back. I drag my eyes open, and slowly register that Talon is still fucking me. It's a pace I recognize as him hunting his own release, fast and hard with no regard for what I get out of it. I think that's… fine.

I shift enough to check in with the rest of me, and find everything more or less alright. I'm exhausted, trembling faintly from exertion, and I'm extremely sensitive, but it's nothing really painful. A little shocking, a little uncomfortable, but not painful. I'm a little too blissed out to really care about the faint discomfort of him sliding through my oversensitive nerves.

I fade in and out, only halfway conscious, until he pushes hard in and I feel him throb and come inside me. Even then, I don't really pay any attention until he leans down over me. His fingers brush my cheek and tilt my jaw up, and I follow the silent prompt to look at him.

"Still with me, kitten?"

I manage a small nod, and then drag a deeper breath in so I can whisper, "Need a break."

He pulls back a few inches, and I watch his hand rise up to my wrists, and the cuffs. He undoes them easily, guiding my arms down to my sides. Then he pulls out of me. I shake a little harder for a second, my eyes squeezing shut.

I lose track of him for a few moments, and then he's pressing up against my right arm. Careful hands guide me to lie on my side, tug the sheets out from underneath both of us, and then draw them up over my shoulders. The feeling of someone pressed against my back, their arm around my waist, hasn't felt this good in a long time. I feel his mouth against my shoulder, as his cool skin presses up against me and his legs tangle with mine. It almost feels like he's a real partner of mine, not just a half-sociopathic murderer I sell myself to in exchange for information.

"Need anything?" he asks against my skin, the hand of the arm wrapped around my waist touching my stomach and then tracing up the center of my chest.

I wrap my fingers around his, curling a little bit into the warmth of the blanket. "No," I manage to say. "Just time. Need to recover." I swallow, my trembling easing a little bit. "Too sensitive." I give a weak squeeze to his fingers, and he presses a little harder against my back. "Like this," I mumble. "Should do it again." My mouth opens without my permission, stretching wide in a yawn that cracks something in my jaw.

Talon makes one of his low, amused sounds. "Sleep," he quietly orders. "You seem to need it, and I want you able to take what I give. I'm not done with you yet, my kitten."

"Sleep?" I echo. Then he's pulling his hand away from me and pushing me forward by the back of my shoulder. Enough that I'm almost flat on my stomach. I get about a second of wondering what he's doing, and if I should be worried, before his thumbs press into the back of my neck. My breath catches.

His hands work into my muscle, and I give a soft moan and relax into the bed. Other things I didn't know Talon could do. My faint shaking disappears underneath the touch of his hands, and I can feel my eyelids drooping. So I let them. I close my eyes, shift to a just slightly more comfortable position, and let myself fall towards sleep. His hands keep working, sliding from my neck down to my shoulders.

I don't last long enough for them to reach any lower than that.